Page 51 of By the Pint

“What the fuck? Everything okay? It’s three AM.” Goldie’s voice came out groggily.

“Who is it?” Holly said in the background, matching her fiancé’s sleep-gravelled timbre.

“It’s Dima,” Goldie said, his voice a little quieter.

“Oh, gods, is he okay?” Holly suddenly sounded much more alert.

“You okay, mate?” Goldie asked me.

“No,” I croaked out. “I can’t stand it anymore, Goldie. What am I supposed to do? My heart is bruised beyond repair. I’ve got it bad. Like real bad.”

“He’s fine,” Goldie said, evidently to Holly. There was a rustling sound, probably the duvet being lifted, and the gentleslap of Goldie’s feet on the hard wood floor, down the carpeted stairs and then again on the kitchen tiles. “What is it, buddy?” The light switch clicked. “Ah, fuck, my eyes!”

I’d told my flatmates I was going to a quilting retreat, but separately, I’d confessed to Goldie that it had been a ruse and Casey would be there in all his distracting and delicious glory. “I can’t do this,” I said. “I can’t teach Casey to close off his mind. I … just can’t. I like him too much. I want him, Goldie. So badly. I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with him. He’s just … so pretty, and warm, and intelligent, and he wears such nice clothes, and his lips …” I whined. “Gimme.”

And Casey thought about me nonstop. About that night back at Dreadmourne. About my body pressed against his beside the volcano. About how desperate he was to kiss me again, to feel my cool, naked flesh beneath his palms, to take me back to his hotel suite and massage his prostate with my cock. Even though I told him not to think about it. To try really, really hard because I could see every single urge that flitted through his mind. He couldn’t help himself. So, I pretended I didn’t know every single damn time his dick twitched because he’d caught my scent or heard a slight growl in my voice, or every time he’d had to sort himself out before we were due to meet.

In all fairness, I did the same. But Casey was none the wiser. Everything was so one-sided.

“Woah. Okay, okay,” Goldie said. “Let’s backtrack a few paces, shall we? What’s happened?” I heard a soft bubbling sound, which must have been the coffee maker.

I told Goldie everything. About our deal, about Casey’s end-game goal to be a vampire. “I’ve seen inside his memories. They’ve already began the application process. He’s just waiting for Kil—his master to fork out the one hundred mil turning fee. It’s like … Do you remember when you first started fooling around with Holly and you were worried that you’d fall in lovewith her because she’s human and you’re fae and you had a thousand years left on this planet, and she only had like sixty?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, with obvious food in his mouth.

“Well, it’s like that, but a million times worse. Because I wouldn’t have sixty years with him, I’d have months. At most. His master has promised to turn him into a vampire once he gets my business secrets out of my head. And I’ve promised him once he learns to block his mind, he’s welcome to them. He’s a really fast learner, Goldie. Once he’s a vampire, he won’t remember me. Or anything we’ve ever had.”

“So, never give him your secrets. Just keep stringing him along and fobbing him off.”

“Huh,” I stopped my incessant floating and drifted back to the carpet. It was a shit idea. For many, many reasons. But … maybe it could work for a while … Or maybe the only rational thing to do was kidnap him and keep him locked up here at the Constellations Manor Hotel and Spa for all eternity. I’d seen his fantasies. Even if I told him I hadn’t. He was into that. I mean, it’s not really kidnapping if it’s consensual, right?

There were footsteps in the corridor. “Shit, I hear him.”

“Is he with you now? I thought you weren’t gonna fuck him again?”

I shushed Goldie and peered through the peephole of my door. Casey pressed his keycard against the reader and pushed his door open. His features were pulled into a frown.

“He’s just gone in his room,” I whispered down the phone.

“Why don’t you tell him you’ve changed your mind, and—”

“Ssssshhhh!”

Seconds later, Casey reappeared outside his door, a gym holdall slung over his shoulder. In his other hand, he held his phone and was typing out something on the keypad.

“He’s outside my door,” I said to Goldie in the quietest voice I could manage. “I think he’s going to the gym. Gods, he’s so fucking delicious.”

Abruptly, Casey lifted his attention from his phone and pointed it directly at my door. His eyes homed on the sliver of light at the bottom.

I floated higher so that I wouldn’t create shadows. But this made him pull his head back in beautiful confusion. He tilted it to the side, exposing the bare skin of his neck where I’d grazed my fangs. The memory flooded back to me, and — great, now I was getting hard.

“I think he knows I’m here,” I said, in a voice so quiet I wasn’t sure if Goldie would have heard, even with his super sensitive fae hearing.

Casey continued to stare at the door. His lips parted. Then his eyes found the peephole. “What the fuck?” he mouthed, dropped his gym bag to the floor, and closed the gap to my door.

Why would there be a peephole in a cleaning cupboard?he thought. And despite the metal between us, it reached me loud and clear. How was that possible?

Casey caged a hand over his mouth, his fingernails scraped through his day-old stubble. What I wouldn’t have given to do the same. I practically saw the comprehension dawning on him.

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