4. Merri
Merri
S ome people would travel back in time to find their lover. I’d go back to the person who made the first latte and thank him. Like seriously who has done more for humanity? Einstein? Churchill? Dr. King? I bet they all ran on coffee, so the coffee creator wins. But lattes take the bitter drink and add the sweet and spice that fuels life. So, there’s that. There’s something magical about late-night coffee shops. It’s when the whole world slows down, and all that’s left are the soft hum of the espresso machine and the quiet clatter of laptops from night owls like me, hunched over my research.
A double shot latte with a hint of vanilla and caramel keeps my brain running like a hamster on a wheel. Spinning endlessly while I stare at my screen, trying to make sense of my notes. Notes I’ve painstakenly garnered but now seem meaningless. What the hell was I thinking? These notes do little to prove my thesis and the ones that do won’t count as credible sources. How could I make these mistakes?
Why do I even bother asking myself? I damn well know the answer. Baden Eames. Two days since we kissed—when I didn’t smack his face, or bit his tongue in half—as I would have done if anyone else tried that crap. I could have at least kneed him in the balls. His balls have nerve endings don’t they? Of course, they do. If his erection works, then he feels something down below. And his erection definitely worked… I bury my face in my hands. Damn him. Why am I thinking about the arrogant vamp again.
Because he’s thinking about you… Nope, not going there. Not even in my thoughts. But why else did he have me investigated. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew about the birthmark staining my ass. Something only a privleged few know about—because it’s not like I go around screwing every guy who catches my eye. And now I’m thinking about screwing Baden. I shut my eyes and shake my head. It’s been three days of these—distracting thoughts. Definitely should have kneed him. And that shit about my family was a threat. Wasn’t it?
I take a deep breath, letting the scent of dark roast coffee and sugary pastries calm my nerves. Opening my eyes I focus on my screen, to find four lines of the letter z. I’ve accomplished zilch. Damn him. I mutter for the thousandth time, but if he’s a vamp isn’t he already damned?
No, not going to think about it. Not going to research vampiric lore and what vampires can and cannot do. Not going to worry about their erections or what magic they can work with their tongues. Because I think I kind of know… now. Definitely now going to wonder if their legendary stamina is just legend. Nope, I going to sit here and enjoy the peace. Focus my energy on school. It's working, kind of, sort of, until I hear the soft chime of the door, followed by the unmistakable sensation of someone watching me. My skin prickles with awareness, and instinctively, I shrink lower into my seat, trying to disappear behind the screen of my laptop.
Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.
I tilt my head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the entrance from the corner of my eye.
Damn. His. Vampire. Ass.
It’s him.
Baden, in all his broody, vampire glory, strolling into the coffee shop like he owns the place. Which, let’s be real, he just might. I hold my breath, praying he doesn’t notice me, but of course, my luck doesn’t work that way. His eyes lock onto mine, and it’s too late.
Crap.
I sink lower in my seat, trying to look busy, tapping away at my laptop. Adding another five rows of z’s because I’m shit for brains. Hopefully, he’ll take the hint.
Nope.
He’s coming over.
His footsteps are slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring this moment. I don’t dare look up, keeping my eyes glued to the z’s and even add a few lines of b’s. He stands there waiting for me to acknowledge him. I want to ignore him but his presence is… overwhelming. It’s like the whole room has shifted to accommodate him, and now I’m stuck in his gravitational pull.
“Hello, Merri.” His voice rumbles down my spine. Setting off fault lines I didn’t know I had. Damn it.
I look up, forcing a polite smile. “Hi.”
He doesn’t move. Just stands there, towering over me with those silver eyes digging, I’m sure, for whatever information his detective missed. There’s an amused glint in them, and I know he’s enjoying this way more than he should be. Every other time I’ve seen him his face was carved in a snarling mask. I prefer it to the knowing smirk. “Mind if I sit?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s not really asking. He’s already pulling out the chair across from me.
I glance around the mostly empty café. There are at least five other tables he could have chosen. But no. He sits at mine. “Sure,” I say, giving myself a mental kick. Damn my good manners. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
He sits, folding his hands on the table like we’re about to have a civilized conversation. Which we are not. I have no intention of letting this turn into another disaster like the last time we were alone together. Still, I can’t help but be curious. What is he even doing here?
“Working late?” he asks, his gaze flicking to my laptop screen.
“Duh,” I resist saying and nod instead. Be polite , I hear my mom warning me. “Research. You know, just trying to change the world one thesis at a time.”
His lips twitch, as if he’s fighting a smile. Probably hasn’t given one in a century. “Sounds important.”
“It is,” I say, pointedly. “So, um…. gotta keep at it.” I add when he doesn’t take the hint and leave.
He tilts his head, studying me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m being sarcastic or sincere. The truth is, it’s a little bit of both. My research is important—at least to me—but right now, I’m also doing everything I can to keep my mind off the fact that I kissed this man in an elevator not too long ago.
And it was a damn good kiss.
“Do you ever take a break?”
I shrug. “Not really. Grad school isn’t exactly known for its work-life balance. But hey, I like what I do. It’s not all bad.”
“What are you working on, then?”
I hesitate for a moment. Most people’s eyes start to cross when I dive into my digital world of data, coding, and virtual simulations. But who knows maybe I can bore him away. I firmly stamp down the part of myself that doesn’t want to lose his interest. “It’s… um, tech stuff. Data science. I’m working on ways to analyze massive datasets, trying to find patterns and predict outcomes. I’d love to find ways to teach LLM’s to reason and draw conclusions. If we can teach them to do more than just analyze the implications especially in medicine and research…” I stop at his blank stare.
“What’s an LLM?”
“Never mind. You wouldn’t be interested. Just suffice to say it’s technology that is changing the world.”
“Oh, that. Again .” Now it’s my turn to frown. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ve seen thousands of innovations that changed the world. Mostly for the better—but not always. You’d be surprised by how often humans build things that will ultimately destroy them.”
“And yet here we are…“
“Yes, resilient little things.”
“You say it like we’re cockroaches. But weren’t you human once?”
He’s silent a long time. I bite my lip to keep from apologizing. It’s not in me to be rude or to intentionally hurt someone. But his face tell me that maybe I have. He sighs. “Yes, but that was a very long time ago.” He changes the subject and I allow it. Pointing to my laptop he says, “But I’ll admit, there are things I haven’t kept up with.”
I blink, surprised. “Really? Like what?”
“ A lot. The pace of changes in this century are moving faster than they ever have. A lot of innovations, but some seem pointless. Online shopping. Apps. Video games—”
My brows shoot up. “Wait. You’ve never played a video game?”
“No. Why would I?”
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms with a grin. “I mean, it’s only one of the biggest industries in the world right now. But yeah, you’re probably better off without it. You’d get hooked.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that.”
“Oh, you would. Trust me. I’ve lost entire weekends to gaming. It’s addictive.”
There’s a moment of silence between us, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s curious, but he’s also… weary. Like he’s lived too long to care about the little things that make life exciting for the rest of us. “You know,” I say, breaking the silence, “it’s not all bad, though. Human innovation, I mean. I get that you’ve been around for a long time and probably seen it all, but… things are different now. There’s so much potential. That’s what I love about technology. Just think of how many lives have been saved with something as simple and as complicated as an MRI.” His brows furrow. So I simplify, “Fancy x-ray machine…”
He nods and his eyes meet mine. They flash with something like… regret? Or maybe it’s just exhaustion. Either way, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “I used to feel that way,” he admits quietly. “But after centuries of watching it all rise and fall, it’s hard to hold on to that hope.”
I swallow, not sure how to respond. Part of me understands—he’s lived through more history than I can even imagine. But the other part of me—the part that’s still young and idealistic—wants to shake him and remind him that there’s still good in the world.
“Yeah, well,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, “you’re missing out on some really cool stuff. Like Charlie Cart. You’d probably be terrible at it, though.”
His lips quirk up into a smirk. “Is that a challenge?
“Maybe.” I grin. “But you’d lose.”
“I don’t lose.”
“Not yet. But give me a controller, and I’ll make sure you do.”
He chuckles softly, the sound low and almost… human. It catches me off guard, but in a good way. For a moment, I forget that we’re sitting in a mostly empty café, that he’s a vampire, and that I’m supposed to be keeping my distance from him. For a moment, it’s just… us. But then the moment passes, and reality settles back in. I can feel the pull between us, the tension that’s been simmering since the elevator incident, but I can’t let myself fall into it. Not again. I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus.
My phone buzzes and I’m saved by the bell. I gulp down the last of my latte and start packing up my latte. “Speaking of apps—that’s work. Gotta run.”
“Work?”
“Yes I drive for Pick ups .”
“What’s Pick ups ?”
I pause mid-motion, my hands freezing over the zipper of my bag as I glance up at him. “You know, Pick Ups. The ride-share app?” His brows furrow. How does he not know this? Guess it’s one of the many perks of being mega rich. You never have to call for a Pick Up and you definitely never have to give a Pick Up. “It’s basically like Uber. People request rides, I pick them up, drop them off. You know, basic stuff. It’s a great job for a student. Should’ve been in that little background check you ran on me.”
His nostrils flare at that. “It wasn’t.”
I grin in victory and give a little fist pump. “Huh. Guess your detective missed a spot.”
But he doesn’t laugh or even seem remotely amused. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers to a near growl. “You do this alone? Late at night?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I mean, it’s a job. I’m not the only one out there. People do it all the time, Baden.”
I’m fascinated by the nerve ticking in his clenched jaw. It’s all kinds of seductive. So sexy, I almost miss the possessive edge to his voice. “It’s dangerous.” He eyes me up and down before adding, “I wondered if you had a man. Now I know you don’t. Because what kind of man would let his woman wander the streets at night picking up random strangers?”
My eyes nearly bulge from my head. Like seriously, pop out and roll across the floor like two boiled eggs. I can’t believe I almost forgot who or what I was talking to. “Excuse me? If I had a man? Really? As in a keeper? What century are you from again?”
“A century where we didn’t let our women—”
“Stop.” I cut him off. Seriously afraid he will choke on the foot he’s stuffing in his mouth if I let him. “Just stop. Men don’t let women do anything. We don’t need their permission. I know you haven’t kept up with the times but I hope you at least got that far. It was a whole movement. If you missed the first one, there was another every fifty years or so. You can’t have missed them all.”
“Are you saying women don’t need men?” He stands when I do.
“I’m saying I’m not about to argue the point with a five hundred year old vamp.”
“Four hundred,” he corrects.
“Potato, po-tot-toe,” I mutter before wiping a hand over my face. The only thing that dampens my rage is that he seems genuinely concerned and befuddled at the same time. And befuddled is not a word I use casually, or at all. “I’m fine. It’s just driving people around. I’ve never had any problems. Don’t worry, Grandpa.”
His silver eyes glint but he stays focused. Of course he does. “You could get hurt. I don’t like it.”
Which is probably a good argument in his mind. Maybe if he thought I was his… Except I’m not. And even if I were… I haul my backpack onto a shoulder and fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not going to stop driving because it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Merri—”
“No.” I cut him off before he can go full broody on me. “I don’t need an overprotective man in my life trying to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m not about to change my life because you’ve got a thing about danger.”
His lips press into a thin line, and the sexy tic in his jaw jackhammers. The silver in his eyes flashes, and I wait for him to lash out, to push harder. But he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches me, his gaze intense and unreadable.
“There are other ways to make money,” he says quietly. “If you need help, I could…”
I shake my head and back away my palms lifting as if I’m warding off a…. Well, warding off a vampire. And where’s a wooden stake and some garlic when a girl needs it? “Um, thanks. But no thanks. I got this.”
He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t crack a smile. But the concern, the worry, omg, the fear—softens my response. “Baden,” I say, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m not doing anything dangerous. It’s just a job. I’ll be fine.”
But his expression doesn’t change. In fact, he looks more unsettled, his nostrils flaring again as if he’s fighting some internal battle. “I don’t want to be controlling,” he says, the words strained like he’s forcing them out. “But the world is a dangerous place—believe me I should know. Even more so for a beautiful woman. That much hasn’t changed since the world began.”
He thinks I’m beautiful? Nope. Not going to let a compliment break through my boundaries. For God’s sake he crossed enough when he investigated my life. I get that he’s worried but I can’t give in. Not to this. I meet his gaze head-on. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not stopping. This is my life. I make my own decisions.” I grab my keys, and prepare to leave. My phone buzzes again, reminding me that my next pick-up is waiting.
He doesn’t budge and I hope like hell I don’t have to physically move him out of the way because I’m not sure that I can. The man, um vamp, is over six feet tall and solid as a linebacker.
Thankfully, I don’t have to pull out my taser. Which I’m not sure works on the undead. He steps aside giving me a curt nod. Muttering under his breath as I leave. “Be fucking careful.”
Not gonna lie, having a handsome vamp worry about you will crack even the hardest resolve. Instead of giving in, I nod and keep walking. It’s the only way to stop the little splinter in my armor from spreading into a full on crevice.