Chapter 2 #2
I still don’t see what the big deal is. “Okay.”
He finally turns around, brows knit in a hard line. “Okay?”
I nod. “I don't get why you think it matters that you’re gay. Last I checked, you're still my best friend. My best friend who disappeared in a puff of smoke, but my best friend nonetheless.”
He scoffs, so I raise my brows at him. “I mean it. I don't care if you’re gay, Jericho. And I wouldn’t have cared if you’d told me back then, either.”
He slumps into the kitchen chair like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. For a long moment, he just stares at me. The cold emerald hue almost makes me shiver.
I want so desperately to feel our old connection, but it’s like there’s a wall between us now. There’s too much left unsaid. Too many questions. It hurts that he’s shutting me out. Doesn’t he miss me?
After a minute, he shakes his head and gives a half-hearted laugh. “Do you have any idea how many times I've imagined this conversation, and not one of them were you simply saying 'okay?’ Do you even care that I was changed?”
“Of course I care!”
“You sure aren't acting like it! You're more concerned about where my dick has been than what I've been drinking the last ten months!”
I roll my eyes. “I already told you, I've known you were turned for a while, so I've had time to get used to it. I just don’t know how it happened, and you still haven’t given me the full story.” He doesn’t deny it. “Besides, it’s not like you’re the first vampire I've met.”
“Are you referring to Ralph and his girlfriend? What's her name, Petunia or something?”
“Pansy, and yeah.” Ralph Edwards was in our biology class in college, we hung out a few times.
He was the first person I called after hearing about what happened to Jericho.
Both he and his girlfriend helped me come to terms with it.
But I haven’t talked to them in a couple of months.
I’ve been too focused on finding Jericho.
Jericho laughs coldly. “Yeah, let me tell you, vampires are nothing like Ralph. Nothing. And if you think I'm going to be as bubbly and hyper as he—”
“I think you'll be you,” I say quickly. “For the most part, anyway. You're obviously different, but—”
In the blink of an eye, Jericho appears in front of me, his hair lifting in the breeze. “Yeah, I am. I'm very different, Evan, and that's something you need to think long and hard about. Because I won't ever be the person you knew before.”
I’m too distracted by his fangs to really focus on what he’s saying. They’d appeared faster than I could process, two long white daggers behind his upper lip. How in the fuck do they disappear and reappear so easily? He’s incredible.
Only then do I realize how close we are.
How his scent overwhelms me and makes my heart skip a beat.
Is that a vampire thing? Because I never noticed it when he was human.
But all the other things, all his tiny mannerisms—the twitch of the vein above his brow, or the slight frown on his lips when he’s annoyed—are exactly how I remember.
So much about him is still him, and that gives me hope.
It’s the proof I’ve needed that Jericho is still the same guy I spent every day with for four years. He is still my best friend.
God, how my heart aches. How can I miss someone so much when he’s less than five feet away? And how do I get him back?
“Every vamp I’ve talked to said their personality never changed,” I say, determined to move past this.
“Not in the big picture, anyway. Some got big egos when they realized how strong they were, but their likes and dislikes?
None of that changed. Which means you're still the guy who loves Korean movies and who knows all the lyrics to every Aerosmith song ever written.
You're still the guy who wears socks inside out even after you've worn them once just because you hate doing laundry.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Not anymore.”
I snort. “Thank God because that was so gross.”
A tiny smile appears, so I continue. “You probably still wrap yourself like a burrito when the temperature drops below seventy degrees, and you probably still drive with both hands on the wheel like my grandmother did.”
His smile grows. “So? I doubt you've learned to parallel park in the time I've been away.”
I grin. “Nope.”
Jericho shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even need a car. I can run faster than you can drive.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I’d love to see you try, my friend. You know I have a lead foot.”
His eyes soften at the memory, but then his jaw ticks and his voice drops. “I can hurt you without meaning to, Evan. Or kill you. And I don’t mean only with my teeth.” He reaches for the empty glass on the counter and shatters it with very little effort.
I blink at it, annoyed. “I liked that glass.”
I know Jericho is just trying to scare me or make me believe we can’t be friends, and maybe there is some truth to it, but deep down, I still trust him. I can’t explain it. I just do.
“Look, if you hurt me, you can just feed me more of your blood and say you’re sorry,” I say, hoping we can move past this. Because all I want is my friend back.
His expression shifts. I can’t tell if he’s amused or annoyed, but the cold tone gives him away. Definitely annoyed. “I’m not kidding about this shit, Evan. I’m dangerous.”
“Yeah, and I. Don’t. Care,” I reply. “I still don’t think you’ll hurt me. Besides, I’m dangerous now too. I’ve learned how to shoot since you left. I’m pretty good at it.”
For a long moment, we just stare at each other, trying to bridge the gap between then and now.
His eyes dance between mine and his nostrils flare, like he’s using his vampire senses to sniff something out.
Is he smelling my dirty house, or me? Yikes, yeah.
Probably me. I don’t think I showered after my run earlier.
He finally relaxes, turning away from me as he sweeps up the shards of broken glass into the trash. “I’m sorry,” he says, though I know he’s not referring to the mess. “I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. I think about it every day.”
“Then prove it to me.”
“How?”
“By not leaving me again,” I say quickly.
“It’s not that easy.”
I scoff, but Jericho shakes his head.
“It's not. There's a lot of shit you don't know. Things that can get you killed if you get too close.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me either. A lot has changed since you left.” Nothing as exciting as growing a set of fangs and diving into the supernatural life, but hey. Losing a job, going bankrupt, and avoiding a psychopath still count. Trace was the reason I even learned to shoot. I got sick of him tailing me and wanted a way to protect myself. “But I still want to be friends. Don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then stop being a dumbass and come around more often, okay? And answer my fucking calls. That’s all I ask.”
Jericho actually smiles, and it instantly melts the stress away. God, I’ve missed that smile.
“I really do need to go for now,” he says.
I resist the urge to ask him to stay. I’ve pushed him too far as it is. “Fine. Come by tomorrow then, okay?”
He nods. “Yeah.”