Chapter 11 Warren
WARREN
It wasn’t until he was stepping out of the shower, his body pleasantly loose from the heat and steam, that Warren saw the new scar on his neck.
“Motherfucker,” he muttered, angling his chin up to get a better look.
If what Max had said about the placement of claiming bites was true – that putting them over the collar was disrespectful – then this was the equivalent of spitting in his mouth and calling him a whore.
The bite sat just under his jaw, the raised scar tissue still red and a little inflamed, right above the mark put there by Marcus.
It seemed that respecting Warren had taken a backseat to one-upping the competition.
Warren traced his fingers over the two bites, the idea of showing up to his date with Marcus tomorrow with the mark on full display making his gut twist anxiously.
This was all getting very complicated. Looking away from the mirror, Warren dried off and got dressed in his staying inside clothes – consisting of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a very soft sweatshirt – and left the bathroom.
He called his sister and talked to her for a while, though he decided not to tell her about his werewolf drama until after he knew where they all stood. Instead, he listened for close to thirty minutes while she complained to him about her roommates.
Warren would never understand her. Vivian was sharing a house with a group of her friends, but from the way she talked about them and the intricate dramas that went on between them, they sounded more like bitter enemies than friends.
As he listened to her rant – she really just needed an outlet to sort out her feelings – Warren thought about his own situation.
At the end of the day, it wasn’t like he could start a relationship with Marcus. The guy lived all the way up in Alaska. Marcus was in no position to move, being the leader of his pack, and Warren didn’t want to move.
If he was going to pursue anything, it should be with Max and Harland.
Rubbing his jaw, Warren flashed back to a few hours ago when he’d been kneeling between Harland’s legs.
The way the vampire’s muscular leather-clad thighs had bracketed his body, his fat, perfectly smooth marble column of a cock right in his face, had been as close to a religious experience as Warren had ever come.
Thinking about it had Warren kicking his feet and wanting to do a happy dance.
“What’s with you today?” Vivian asked, cutting herself off mid-rant and making Warren freeze.
“Nothing,” Warren said, the word coming out far too defensive.
“Are you seeing someone?” Vivian asked, teasing and excited. “Is he hot? Is he that T.A. you were crushing on?”
“No, it’s not someone from school. It’s some guy who was visiting the science department for his company. We’re going on a date tomorrow.”
“What are you going to wear?” Vivian let out a gasp. “You should wear that cute blue sweater I got you last Christmas, but with nothing underneath. You’d look like such a twink.”
“Okay, it was nice talking to you. Love you.”
“You’re no fun. But fine, I’ve got to go anyways. Let me know how it goes.”
They said goodbye, and Warren climbed off his bed to go raid his cupboard for something to eat. To his horror, he was all out of ramen and mac and cheese. The only edible thing in his kitchen was cereal, and he wasn’t in the mood to eat that for dinner.
He’d been sure he had at least one pack of ramen left. Looking through the rest of his cupboards, moving the meager contents of his kitchen around, he had to concede that he’d been wrong.
Luckily, Warren could afford to order food on his phone. It still caught him a little off guard – especially in moments like this – that he was one of the people who could just decide to buy takeout and not have to worry about his budget for the month.
It was a stark change from his years as an undergraduate.
Going back to bed, Warren lay down and propped himself up on his pillow as he opened his phone to see what he was going to order himself for dinner.
Scrolling through the options, he saw that the Chinese place down the street was having a deal on takeout.
Two entrees for the price of one, and a free appetizer.
That was Warren’s dinner sorted right there.
After putting in his order, Warren pulled on some more layers, put on his shoes, and grabbed his coat and headed out.
Since he was getting takeout, he decided that he would treat himself to a hard cider and some soda to go with his meal.
He went to the little corner store at the end of his block and got his drinks, and picked himself up a pre-packaged brownie square for dessert.
Carrying his plastic bag out of the store, Warren was about to head toward the Chinese restaurant when the sound of a motorcycle had him turning around.
It was rare to see motorcycles in the winter – conditions were terrible for driving on two wheels – and the only motorcyclist Warren could remember seeing since the first snow of the year was Harland.
Looking down the street, chasing the sound of the motorcycle, Warren felt his stomach do a swoop when he caught sight of it and he recognized the rider.
That was Harland, all right.
Warren’s chest felt all fluttery as he watched Harland coming down the street on his bike, the vampire’s muscular body leaning forward as he steered the huge motorcycle through the evening traffic.
Dressed in another full-body leather racing suit and wearing a helmet with a mirrored visor, Harland looked like some kind of extremely intimidating leather biker god.
Warren lifted his hand, shooting off a little wave, but Harland didn’t see him.
Coming closer and closer, his left indicator light turning on, Harland had almost passed him when his head whipped around and he looked right at him.
Warren froze, the weight of Harland’s gaze through the mirrored visor making him feel rooted to the spot.
Harland pulled over, coming to a stop next to the sidewalk where Warren was standing. He reached his hands up and pulled off his helmet, tucking it under his arm and looking Warren up and down.
Warren licked his lips and shifted his bag to his other hand. “Hi.”
Harland reached over and tugged the lapel of Warren’s jacket, pulling him closer. “Hi, yourself. I wasn’t expecting to see you again today.”
Standing next to Harland as he straddled his bike, still looming over him, the vampire’s gloved hand holding on to the front of his jacket, Warren felt like giggling like a schoolgirl.
“I’m just getting my dinner,” Warren said, holding up his bag.
“Soda and a brownie?” Harland asked, peeking inside. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes let Warren know that he was teasing.
He blushed. “No, these are just my drinks and dessert. I’m picking up my food at that restaurant.” Warren pointed at the Chinese restaurant on the other side of the street, a few buildings down from where they were standing. “What about you?”
Harland exhaled, his nostrils flaring.
“I’m looking for Max. We had a fight and I’m worried about him.”
“A fight?” Warren asked, hoping he wasn’t being too nosey.
“Do you live around here?” Harland asked instead of answering.
“Yeah, just down the street.”
“Can we talk?” Harland asked. “I’ll find somewhere to park my bike while you get your food and I’ll meet you outside the restaurant.”
Warren sucked his lower lip into his mouth and nodded. The way Harland said talk made it seem serious.
“Sure,” Warren said, his stomach sinking.
It seemed he wasn’t going to have to pick between Marcus or Harland and Max after all. If Harland and Max were fighting about him, it made sense to resolve it by breaking things off.
“Perfect. I’ll meet you outside.” Harland put on his helmet, the mirrored visor reflecting Warren’s face back at him, and kicked the bike into gear. With a roar of the engine, he pulled away from the sidewalk and merged into the evening traffic.
Feeling despondent, Warren crossed the road and made his way to the restaurant. He picked up his food, thanking the woman at the register when she threw in a whole handful of fortune cookies, and walked back out onto the street.
Harland was waiting for him. He’d taken off his helmet, holding it by the visor, and when Warren approached, he put his free hand on the back of Warren’s neck.
“Lead the way.”
Warren wondered what it was about alphas – vampire or werewolf – and their fondness for grabbing his neck. Not that Warren was complaining. The feeling of Harland’s huge hand pushing down under the collar of his jacket, thumb and index fingers reaching past his jugular, was more than nice.
Walking the short distance to his apartment, Warren led Harland up the stairs and through his front door.
Warren usually thought his studio apartment was pretty spacious. He had a sizable kitchen nook that branched off from the main room and curved around the bathroom, a sofa area with a TV, and a queen-sized bed in the corner.
Harland made the space feel tiny. The vampire looked around, his leather suit gleaming under the bright spotlights in Warren’s ceiling, and nodded.
“This is cozy.”
Warren looked down and swallowed at the realization that Harland's boots were too big to fit on his little welcome mat.
“Thanks. I like it,” Warren said, kicking off his shoes and taking off his coat.
Copying him, Harland bent down and undid the fastening on his boots, taking them off and placing them next to Warren’s shoes.
Side by side, Harland’s boots looked like they belonged to a giant.
“Would you like something to drink?” Warren asked, gesturing for Harland to come inside. “Or eat? There was a two-for-one deal, so I have enough food to share.”
Harland looked at him, one eyebrow lifting up just slightly, and Warren realized what he was saying.
“Right. Vampire. You eat me, not my food. Sorry.”
Harland smiled. It was a soft thing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and it made Warren feel like a swarm of butterflies had been released into his chest.