Page 76 of Hot Blooded
“Why Tressa?” Lena asks with a furrowed brow.
How doesn’t she understand my desire to live with Reign for all of eternity?
“Drinking blood to survive?” she questions.
I bite my lip. “I’m not in love with that idea, but to hear Reign tell it, it’s even better than getting your blood sucked.”
“Fuck,” she gasps. “You’ve got me seriously thinking about becoming a registered donor. But I can’t imagine wanting to drink the stuff.” A little gag sound follows her words. I know she thinks it’s disgusting—the idea of drinking blood to survive. And I agree, the blood thing doesn’t appeal to me either, but my decision is so much bigger than that.
I don’t think she means to be so judgmental, because that doesn’t seem like her. But I get it. It’s a lot to process for a human. We don’t often get an inside look into the vampire’s life.
Her eyes never stray from mine as she takes another contemplative sip of her wine.
I take another healthy swig of my beverage and grimace at the bitter taste of the red wine. It’s not my favorite, but Lena ordered it.
“So you’d be immortal?” she asks, changing the subject slightly.
“It sounds crazy, I get it,” I agree. Sure, you hear the odd story about people begging to be changed over, but it’s highly illegal, so nothing is ever confirmed, at least as far as my research has led me.
"What kind of life will that be, Tress? Everyone you know and love will be dead in the next few decades." Her tone is accusatory.
My cheeks burn brightly, but I shake my head. "I understand that. But I’m not close with my mother. I only have my little sister. Reign is my future.”
I know Lena can’t possibly understand this. Sure, she’s fooled around with Reign’s brother Alastair and been somewhat cavalier about the whole vampire thing—little fazes her—but this is an entirely different thing. I want to become one of them.
“Tressa?" she asks, drawing me back from my faraway thoughts. "Are you okay?"
“I miss him," I admit softly. "That’s crazy, right?"
“Not crazy. That’s normal when you break up with someone, from what I hear."
It doesn’t feel like a breakup. A breakup is something that you do with a high school boyfriend, and you eat ice cream and listen to angry music and you’re fine in about ten days. I will live a lifetime of regret and hopelessness with Reign.
“Listen, it’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to feel confused." She reaches across the table between us and grabs my hand. Despite being feisty and free-spirited, Lena has always been wise beyond her years. Her advice is thoughtful and spot on. She downs the last of her wine. "But you know what they say, right?”There’s a wicked gleam in her eyes, and suddenly I’m afraid to ask.
“What’s that?”
She smiles seductively. “That the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And I’m in the mood to have some fun tonight.”
Yay, fun.My heart feels like it’s been fed through a paper shredder. I nod and force a smile onto my face. Lena might be right. But no part of me wants to go hunting for a male companion tonight. I highly doubt I’d be capable of anything that even remotely resembles fun.
I miss Reign’s bed, his cool, temperate skin, the feel of his rough stubble against my cheek when we kissed. I miss everything about him. Just as we’d started to grow close, everything I’d come to love was ripped away from me, leaving a gaping hole in my chest.
Forcing the thoughts of him from my mind, I throw back the rest of my wine and glance at the charming ambience of the bar around us, hoping this trip will be the distraction I need.
Chapter 40
Reign
“Mr. Tryst,” a woman calls my name. I turn to face her. She is running toward me with open arms. I fix my face and hug her in reply, completely unsure who she is. Then it dawns on me. She looks vaguely familiar. This is Henrick’s mother.
“Mrs. Bower. Hello,” I say cautiously, even though her reception is more than warm. This woman has the power to bury me.
“Thank you. Thank you,” she cries as she fumbles for a tissue.
I flash a glance to Wilson who gives me a wink.
A man who must be Mr. Bower saunters up next to her. His face tells me he’s not particularly happy with me.
