Page 21 of I Hate Myself for Loving You
A pet didn’t require sharing himself or emotions, something Lassiter didn’t do easily. Except when he’d been with Avery…
He couldn’t afford to think about the old Avery versus the new one now. No matter how much he wanted her—and he wanted her.
Christ, he wanted her.
He wanted to talk to her again, like they used to. He wanted her slender body pressed to his. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened in the last ten years.
But he couldn’t. How could he tell her something like this?
Oh, please, Lassiter, Bud scoffed in his head. That’s an easy way out for you. Hide behind me, why don’t you? All these years you’ve been so determined to find the answer to this mess that you’ve forgotten about real, live people. Why don’t you go get laid? Oh, wait, you did that. Why, I had to turn my wee parakeet eyes the other way when the two of you were all over each other. You don’t seem to have any trouble communicating then.
Bud?
What?
Shut up.
Wait. Had Lassiter just said the words, no matter how I feel about her?
How did he feel about her?
“So, I could certainly use one,” he went on. “A friend, that is.” Pushing off on his heels, Lassiter rose and headed back toward the kitchen, opening the fridge door.
Avery followed, hoping he’d talk to her more, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the contents of the fridge. The light from the interior shone on his face, making his skin look eerily pale, but still as handsome as he’d always been to Avery.
His complexion was a rare blend of creamy beige, mixed with a dab of color on his cheeks. His cheeks were razor sharp with dimples, deeply grooved on either side of his mouth.
She sniffed the air again. An unfamiliar, yet faintly copper smell assaulted her snout. Peering closer inside the fridge, she lifted her head and looked closer.
Um, unless she was mistaken, he had a whole lot of something that didn’t look like the drink of champions in his refrigerator.
It looked like blood.
Blood like one would find stored in a hospital blood bank.
Eek.
What in all of fetish Hell was going on?
This was freaky beyond her expectations.
He shook the plastic bag of crimson liquid and took a small orange straw from the drawer, pushing it into the bag and sipped.
Like it was a GD juice box.
But that sure as shit wasn’t Hi-C Red Raspberry Splash.
Catching Avery watching him, Lassiter grinned, his eyes glowing. “You can smell it, can’t you, Princess? I know, you’re thinking what the Hell, right? All creatures of the night drink blood, puppy.” Winking, he smiled again, flashing his incisors, now long and gleaming in the dim light over the kitchen sink.
“Bloodbloodblood,” Bud screeched, flying above her head and landing on Lassiter’s broad shoulder.
Creature of the night… Like a vampire creature of the night?
Vampires do have fangs.
Of course they do, silly.
Lassiter had fangs.
