Cherry Stem (9 page)

Thinking of Alex made my head throb. It wasn’t just my future that turned complicated when I tried to factor him in, but my present too. Would I drink from him again? Another rumble from my belly reminded me I should drink from
someone
, and soon. The thing was, I couldn’t really wrap my mind around going to a bar or club and hitting on anyone other than Alex. Sinking my fangs into someone else’s throat and sucking wasn’t appetizing at all, for some reason.
Some reason
? Ah, how I love my denial. Still, I couldn’t feed on Alex for a third time in a row. Could I? Especially when I wanted to keep whatever was between us casual?

Most importantly, would anyone see me if I started smacking my forehead repeatedly just then?

I decided to go with the third, least appealing option where dinner was concerned and say no to the urge my hand had to meet my temple. Glancing backward, I made sure the couple was out of sight, and took off.

* * * *

Once the VSS had deemed that I was able to take care of myself, I’d been given a nest egg and the boot. The nest egg hadn’t been enough for me to re-rent my old apartment, but that wasn’t why I’d had to move. The guidelines say returning to our previous life is frowned upon, and
frowned upon
usually leads to staking in our crowd. The money had, however, been enough to pay four months of rent for an underground studio with no kitchen. Since my undead status has limited my culinary needs to reheating blood when I can’t get it straight from the source, I’d bought a microwave oven, placed it on my bedside table, and I’d been set.

I got a bag of blood from my emergency stash in the teeny-tiny freezer that had come with the teeny-tiny apartment, and warmed it. Of course, reheating frozen blood doesn’t make the stuff tasty, just bearable.

I could have asked Constantine for a sip or two, I thought. Feeding from another vampire keeps us going for at least two or three days. It makes no sense, considering dead man’s blood is poison to us, but it’s true. And Constantine had been my donor many times in the past, so technically it wasn’t like it would have been wrong to ask him. If I had no conscience.

Then again, I doubted he would have been very giving without demanding something in return, so I lifted my mug to my lips and took a mouthful.
Bleah
. I’d forgotten how bad frozen food tasted. Pinching my nose, I gulped the rest of the liquid down and went to the closet-sized bathroom to rinse my cup.

Deciding what to do next was hard. I could stay home and watch reruns, or I could keep my word and go to Alex, to whom I’d promised I’d return. Alex, who was waiting for me. Alex, who seemed unfazed by the weirdness that was my reality, and who treated me like I was something special. Alex, with whom I’d spent the whole day in bed, going through pictures from his childhood, laughing, and making love. Alex, on whom I’d been developing a crush, even though I’d tried hard not to. Alex, with whom I couldn’t be for more than a few measly decades, far too short a time for someone destined to live forever like I was, before his body betrayed him and he inevitably passed away, as all mortals do.

I couldn’t do that to myself; crush or not, I had to get out as soon as possible. As soon as we’d figured out his case.

But I’d promised.

I checked my cell phone. No missed calls. Nobody had sought me out in the two days it had been lying under my bed, where I’d thrown it. That didn’t surprise me. I shoved it in my back pocket; Constantine would call to let me know what he’d arranged. I grabbed my backpack, stuffed some clothes in, pulled my hair into a ponytail, took a deep, unnecessary breath, and opened the door. I couldn’t spend the rest of Alex’s life with him, but there was no danger in enjoying his company for a few more days.

Plus there’s safety in numbers, and two is a bigger number than one.

And I’d promised.

Yeah, that was my only reason for going back.

* * * *

It was odd seeing Alex in the kitchen; I hadn’t associated him with that room. I’d thought he’d be more at ease in a luxurious bedroom with dark colors and lavish fabrics.
No
, I didn’t have a specific one in mind. Nevertheless he seemed completely comfortable among the spotless white countertops, flipping an omelet in the air when I walked in. So comfortable, in fact, that he was doing so wearing only an apron. What was it with naked men that day?

“Does your mother know you wear her clothes?” I lifted one corner of my lips in appreciation of the view.

He threw me a smoldering look over his shoulder and wiggled his ass. “I like how airy this thing is.”

We both managed to keep a straight face for only a second or two before cracking up.

I placed a kiss on his shoulder, hung my pack on the back of a chair, and hopped on the kitchen counter. “Saw you fixed the front door. You might consider locking it too. Anyone could walk in.”

“I’ll lock up tonight, so we can sleep without worrying about burglars.” He added some grated cheese to the omelet, and I watched as it started melting.

I nodded. “So I’m staying tonight too?” Don’t judge; I was there anyway.

“Unquestionably.” He slid the omelet out of the pan and onto a plate he’d set to the side. Switching the cooker off, he finally turned fully to me and captured my lips with his.

“Good.” I returned his kiss eagerly, internally thanking whoever was listening that Alex didn’t have a vampire’s sense of smell. I could still smell Constantine on me, and we hadn’t even had that much contact.

He looked at the plate, which gave out a divine aroma, and then back at me. “I forgot to ask if you can eat. Food. Solid food?” His perfect teeth trapped his lower lip.

I tore off a bit of fried egg with my fingers, dropped it in my mouth, and made a show of chewing and swallowing it. “It does nothing to sustain me, but I can have it.” I ran my tongue over my front teeth. “It needs a bit more pepper.” I like spicy food.

“It does not!” He mock glared at me. “I make a mean omelet, and you better get your butt in a chair if you wanna have any more of it.” He pointed at the table, which was already set for two, a candle in the middle. “I’ll just make a salad and be right with you.”

The whole thing was bizarrely cozy and sweet. I did as he said, making myself comfortable at the table and crossing my legs at the ankles, all prim and proper. Was that how being with him would be? Would he always remain so very wonderful? And why was I torturing myself? Vampires don’t get to share
always
with humans. “I like you,” I blurted.

His brow furrowed. “I thought we’d already established that.”

I nodded. “Just felt like saying it.” Oh God, I was sixteen again.

Looking at me meant he wasn’t looking at the knife, which missed the tomato and found the pad of his thumb instead. “Ouch!”

I was beside him before he’d gotten to the
ch
.

“It’s nothing,” he said, raising his hand toward his mouth. I was faster, taking hold of his palm and leading his thumb between my lips. I licked the wound, sealing it, but he didn’t pull his hand away. When I looked up at him, I was momentarily stricken by the way he watched me; it was intense and warm and full of something more than lust—which was utterly, indisputably
wrong
.

He averted his eyes, and suddenly shy, I let his thumb go with a
pop
. “The omelet is getting cold. We should eat.” If I sounded any cheerier, I’d barf.

“Yeah, better forget the salad and dig in.” He took the omelet to the table and pulled out my chair for me.

“Naw, I’ll finish it. You sit.” I was already done with the tomato and chopping the lettuce by the time he began protesting. He finally gave in and took the seat across from mine.

Finding a bowl for the salad took a rather long time because Alex was just staring at me with a hint of a smile instead of telling me which cupboard to look into. I scraped the salad from the chopping block into the bowl, snatched the pepper mill, and batted my eyelashes at him.

He chuckled as he served his creation to our plates. “Have at it.”

I sank back in my seat and twisted the mill over my plate until I could tell that just one more speckle of pepper would make me sneeze. Then I tried the eggs. I may be exaggerating a bit, but that omelet was the best I’d ever tasted. He’d made it, and we were sharing it while playing footsie under the table. Yup, I was sixteen, all right. And loving it.

Until things turned sour, as they almost invariably do.

Washing a sizeable bite down with cola, Alex asked, “How come you only stopped the blood?”

I had no idea what he was getting at, which must have shown on my face, because he elaborated.

“Aren’t you hungry? You haven’t eaten since late last night.”

I worried that if I mentioned the frozen blood, he’d want me to drink from him again. I didn’t want to get used to his taste when I wouldn’t have it for long. “I can take it a bit longer. And you need to build up your strength.” Hoping I sounded blasé enough, I stuffed a forkful of salad in my mouth. “This is filling, as well as yummy.” All that was missing from my performance was a satisfied tummy rub.

His fork clanked against the plate, where he let it drop. “You’re lying. I can see it in your eyes.” His lips were quirked in a smile, but his tone was serious.

I turned the double-crossing things to the table. “Am not.”

“The question is why.”

Sighing in resignation, I took his hand in mine. “When I went to pack, I had a bite. Frozen stuff.”

“You can have more of mine later if you want.” He seemed relieved, his thumb caressing my knuckles as he changed the subject. “How did the meeting go?”

I shrugged one shoulder, focused on chasing a piece of lettuce around my plate. “It was fine. He’ll call me when he hears from them.”

“So do I get to know who he is?”

My hesitation alone indicated guilt, and I wasn’t guilty, damn it. “My ex. His name is Constantine.” Eh, I felt guilty.

“I see.” He didn’t speak again, switching his attention to his food. When his plate was squeaky clean, he pushed his chair back, stood, and left the room.

It took a couple of seconds for me to make my mind up on whether to follow him or not. If I didn’t, he might think I didn’t care. If I did, he might feel suffocated. Rock, meet hard place, indeed.

While evaluating my options, I factored in a very significant parameter: I was stronger and faster than he was. If he tried to pick a fight or just leave the house, I could easily hold him still until he shut up and listened to me. Though why I had to explain myself, I really couldn’t say. It wasn’t like we were an item.

My chair screeched against the floor, a sound that is a million times more annoying to my ears than to a human’s. Then I was on my feet, walking slowly to the living room. I’m talking real slow, not slow for a vampire. I dragged my feet because, although I’d done nothing wrong that night, I didn’t want to talk about Constantine; nothing good could come out of it. What was more, I didn’t want to lie.

Alex sat in
our
armchair—funny that I felt we had shared custody of the thing—rubbing his face with his palm.

“Do you wanna—”

“My last girlfriend broke up with me eight months ago,” he said to the wall behind me. “My life was too…adventurous for her. We’d been together for a year and a half, and I was planning on asking her to marry me. Letting go of her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” It was amazing how a man his size seemed small at that moment.

The sadness in his voice made my throat constrict. I moved farther inside the room and leaned my thigh against the side of the couch, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I wanted to tell him I was sorry to hear that, yet said nothing.
Sorry
wouldn’t cover the extreme dislike I felt at that moment for the woman who’d wounded him, even though I’d never met her. Still, it wasn’t up to me to help him heal; I was nothing but a passerby in his life.

He shrugged, but I didn’t buy the nonchalant act. Not the way his face had clouded. “She said she’d never be able to keep up. That she was leaving me for my own good. She said she was really sorry and that it hurt her too. I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t get how the fuck she could leave me if it actually hurt her to do it.”

I didn’t want him to finish that story saying that he finally understood what she’d been talking about, that now he knew what it felt like being with someone who was too fast for him. Still, that was unavoidable. The only reason for him to tell me about her could be as a preface to calling things off with me. In all my deep contemplation of the future, I’d failed to take one thing into consideration: delayed freakout. Alex had been fine so far because the goings-on hadn’t really sunk in yet. Now they finally had.

I let my head fall back. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him; he was making my choice for me. I should be feeling relief instead of that numbness that seemed to spread from my fingertips toward my chest.

“She broke my heart to the point I thought it’d never mend again. I didn’t even go on a date until I met you.”

I felt the need to interject, delay the inevitable. “It’s not like we date.” Good job, Cherry.
Great
job.

He might as well not have heard me. “The thing is…”

My fingers dug into my biceps. Despite
knowing
we could be nothing to each other, I didn’t want to hear what the thing was. Couldn’t we just forget the thing for the time being?

“I want us to.”

Okay. Rewind. Let’s talk about the thing. “Huh?”

“I want us to date, Cherry. I want to take you out and come back home with you, but…”

Ah, the
but
. I should have known it was coming.
But
he couldn’t handle it.
But
we weren’t good for each other.
But
it wouldn’t go anywhere, so we ought to save us both the trouble.

“I’m not going to let another woman in, just so she can eventually hurt me. I want to know where you stand. How available you may be emotionally.” He rolled his eyes and let his hand land heavily on the arm of the chair. “Fuck. I sound like a chick.” At last he turned to me. “No offense.”