Page 89 of Thirsty
Maggie put a hand on Lorenzo’s arm. “Lorenzo? What’s wrong?”
Lorenzo swallowed. “I have to go.”
He shoved Charlie’s dad’s phone back to him and walked away—from his own party—from his own house. Charlie was frozen solid as he watched him go, barely hearing his dad say, “Charles? What is it?”
His dad put a hand on his shoulder, and that finally broke the spell. He shoved him away, snarling, “Leave me alone.”
And he ran.
He didn’t find Lorenzo until he got all the way down to the street. It was dark, most of the shops having closed hours ago, and only a few streetlights pierced the gloom. They were all there—Maggie, Isolde, and Rachel all standing around Lorenzo, talking swiftly in hushed voices he couldn’t hear.
Lorenzo saw him first and physically recoiled—jerking and turning away immediately, walking down the street. “Lorenzo!” he shouted.
He heard Rachel say his name in a warning tone, but then she shook her head, turning to follow Lorenzo. Isolde was rubbing his back.
“Lorenzo, wait—” he said, desperately. “Let me explain, please—”
It was Maggie who stood in his way, stopping him with an outstretched hand. He looked past her to where Lorenzo was waiting in the shadows, his back turned, Rachel and Isolde hovering around him.
“Please,” he said to Maggie. “I just need to—to—” If he could just get to him, stand in front of him, look into his eyes, maybe that would change something. Maybe that would give him some clue of what to say, how to make it right. If he could just touch Lorenzo, and make him understand—
“Charlie,” Maggie said quietly, “go away.”
He finally looked at her. “Maggie...”
There was no warmth left in her eyes, no humor in the grooves of her face. She said with simple finality, “You need to leave.”
“But—”
“Fucking go, Charlie,” Maggie said, looking down at him. “We don’t want you here.”
She turned and walked back to the others, leaving Charlie alone on the street.
Chapter 27
Lorenzo may have been a vampire, but he wasn’t a cliché. Not every single moment he spent in bed with Charlie was spent doing...that.
In fact, for the last few minutes he’d been ranting about the snap election in Italy. He trailed off, however, when he realized that Charlie was staring at him with a familiar, hungry expression. “What?” he asked, self-conscious.
“Sorry,” Charlie said, blushing a little. “Just, hearing you say all those—those names, and phrases—”
He did sometimes slip into Italian when he was ranting. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah?”
Charlie scooted closer on the bed, gazing up at him impatiently. “It was hot.”
Lorenzo rolled his eyes.
“Say something else,” Charlie urged.
“No.”
“C’mon, say something,” Charlie said. He begged and wheedled until Lorenzo found himself propped up on his elbow over Charlie, who was fairly squirming with excitement.
He couldn’t deny him. In Italian, he said, “It’s ridiculous that you think this is sexy.”
Charlie lit up as soon as the first word left his mouth. “What did you say?” he breathed.
“I said,” Lorenzo said, staring down at him, hopelessly lost, “...you’re cute.”
