26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Beau Drewitt
Mind-Fuck
She’s almost to the door when I realize I let my opportunity pass by.
I allowed myself to let her in and came far too close to breaking.
A test of the waters, if you will. I never want to make her uncomfortable or for her to think I’m using her.
Would it even be fair to allow her in and still keep part of my identity hidden?
What am I to do if she’s able to figure out what I am?
She wants more and I’m scrambling to figure out how to make that work. She is everything pure that I know and I’m debating scarring her for life.
I hit something deeper than I intended and she immediately envisioned forever. It felt like I was meeting her for the first time again. And now that I’ve back-tracked, we are completely back to square one.
Kai wouldn’t know what to do. And Beau from a few weeks ago never felt like this around women.
I tell myself to stay still. Let her go.
Let her breathe. I don’t dip back into her mind after she says deal.
I stay out intentionally. She likes the way I talk to her.
She likes when I scold her, threatening more like it.
But, the second I gave way to allow myself to think, she’s formulating theories that she’s at fault.
The bell jingles and the door swings shut behind her and I feel it. Something gets torn out of me by force. I move fast to push around the counter, past the reading nook, the shelves, the empty space where her energy once filled the air, and through the door.
“Elowen!” My voice cracks sharp, too full of hope to hide. I regret not reading her mind instantly. I never know what’s respectful and what’s not when it comes to my abilities. I can’t exactly ask her without admitting what I am.
Hey, love. I’m a vampire that can read your private thoughts, mask myself with shadows, and alter reality to live inside my own personal bubble if I so wish. Just—by the way.
I stand on the street too long. I can feel her fluster lingering in the air. It clings to me like a broken whisper. We live on a fault line and every step could send us tumbling into something we can’t return from.
So, I let her go. I follow from a distance. She won’t notice if I wait just long enough. I only need to make sure she gets home safely. That’s all.
That’s what I’ll tell myself.
Nearing dusk, I find myself across the street from her house with my hands tucked in my coat pockets like some lovesick idiot stranger. It’s Kai’s turn to open the speakeasy anyways. This is closure. Curiosity, maybe. Just a final confirmation that she’s not barricading her home because of me.
The truth is simpler. I miss her. Knowing she exists in a separate space from me is changing me from the inside out.
I want her close and I never want to be apart. I want to tear her clothes off. I want to shield her from everything harsh the world may throw. I want to wrap her in blankets and cook her favorite meal from scratch. I want to hear her laugh because of me and only me.
She made it home safely. That puts my mind at ease.
I pull out my phone to run her home address in my phone’s search engine.
Her house is older, modest, and seemingly loved.
The home was deeded to a seventy-year-old woman who passed away a few years ago.
The deed shifted to Elowen within a week.
A relative, most likely. I can’t fucking stand the thought of her grieving.
It makes something in me twist with rage.
How life so treasured can just be ripped away in an instant.
The porch light glows golden. I stay under the oak tree, hidden, but tethered to her warmth.
The kitchen window glows next. She sits with her legs crossed on a chair, sleeves pushed up, smiling softly as she talks.
Imani sits across from her like she owns the place.
Half eaten sandwiches between them with their glasses lifted. Laughter floats out, warm and bright.
Watching her in her element makes me realize that wanting her is not about possession at all, but about standing close enough to witness something rare and letting it ruin me in the best possible way. I have to let her in. I have to make the jump.
Even the glass in her hand should feel lucky to be touched by her.
She’s safe.
She’s home.
She’s happy.
I lean against the tree, content for the first time in hours. I stare at Kai’s contact on my phone too long before calling. He picks up on the third ring with a smug voice, “Tell me this call is for you to finally ask for hair advice.”
“No need for the douchebag attitude. This call is because I’m losing my mind.”
“We are off to a great start. This is good! Is this about the gorgeous girl you keep texting but refuse to pursue properly?” He asks.
I drag a hand down my face as I walk toward my vehicle, “When do I text her? Is it too soon? Should I call? Do people still call when courting? What the fuck am I supposed to do next?”
Kai chews something loudly, “Oh my god. You’re already texting. It’s fine and this is exhausting. If you think of her, text her. Girls like knowing you think of them. How can you fuck, but not text? You pick up on all the wrong things in this century.”
“I don’t want to seem intense, Kai.”
“You’re a fucking vampire, Beau. It’s like your default setting. Hell, she probably would prefer intense over you walking on egg-shells around her.”
I ignore him and glance towards the street lights.
It’s getting dark and the air smells like wood smoke now.
It feels nostalgic and cozy out on the street.
“Elowen walked out of the shop today like she was about to combust. I went way too far then toned it back to something safe today while we were talking. It’s a long story.
” I sigh. “Now, I’m at her door step about to knock on her door. ”
A rare pause from Kai. “Holy shit. Did you just say knock on her door? You’re on her doorstep right now?”
“—No. I’m— I’m in the speakeasy. I was speaking in metaphors. I symbolically am at her doorstep waiting for her to answer my call.”
“Oh, that’s funny because I just walked up from the speakeasy to find you nowhere to be seen, you creep. You’re definitely standing outside her house. You can stalk her, apparently, but you couldn’t kiss her earlier when she was right there!”
“I’m not stalking her. I’m just watching over her. Also, how the hell did you know about earlier? You left.”
“I was eavesdropping, sweet baby Beau.” Of course he was.
“Text her, but make it casual and flirty, still safe. Keep it in check with what you said to her in the store. Keep that line open.” He stifles a laugh before turning his voice to a more serious tone.
“Maybe, we should discuss how inappropriate it is to creep around her house. Vampire or not, that just doesn’t seem very you. ”
“You’re right. Before you even try to say anything, I understand what you’re saying. Are we absolutely sure she’ll respond?” I practically beg for clarity.
“I’ll take what I can get. It seems to me like you’re still in the running. Secure the girl, man!” He yells excitedly over the line.
“I’m getting back on my bike. I’ll text her on the way.” I lie.
Click.
I walk towards the large oak tree in the front yard to watch her reaction in real time. Kai thinks I want to be clear with her about what I want. That’s part of it. But, right now all I can think about is her underneath me.
When I return to my new homebase, Imani is gone.
The kitchen lights off. The living room lamp glows instead.
Elowen curls on her couch, legs stretched across the ottoman.
I shift deeper into the shadows for a better view.
Watching her should feel wrong. It feels grounding instead.
She deserves a loyal protector and damn all the men who passed that opportunity by.
Which is perfect considering she keeps checking behind her every time her dog makes a noise behind her. Can she feel me watching her?
I pull out my phone again.
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
Don’t worry about returning the book. Your notes will suffice. Thinking of you.
It sends and I hate the vulnerability instantly.
She reaches for her phone. My body goes still.
From: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
I’ll be back the day after tomorrow with a full workup on the book. I have a lot of patients tomorrow, but lots of time to kill tomorrow night once I’m off. Thanks, again.
I smirk. She’s planning to return without me requesting.
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
You mean you will need a lot of patience tomorrow. ;) Luckily I have enough for both of us.
What the fuck was that? I watch her closely. That was stupid.
She sinks deeper into the cushions and types again.
From: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
I need to learn patience in LOTS of areas, according to you.
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I meant what I said about courting you. I’m just trying to do this right the first time.
Her words hit me in the chest. That’s not how I meant that.
I slip into her mind to see what she’s thinking.
She’s replaying the moment in the shop. Slightly different?
In her version she drops to her knees. Bold.
Breathless. She asks, “is this what you need from me?” She looks to the ceiling and I hear her start to speak, “Why can’t he just ask me out already? ”
It is my fault. She’s waiting on me. Had I known that, I would’ve already asked.
Right as I pull out my phone to ask to see her sooner, I shake my head to make sure I’m seeing clearly.
My eyes widen as her dominant hand slides into her leggings.
I watch as her breath catches for a moment.
Elowen’s expression melts into pleasure.
My entire body goes tight as my muscles tense.
She is touching herself because of me. Oh my god. And I’m watching.
My jaw clenches as heat spikes through my bloodstream like wildfire. Want and fury coil together hard enough to steal my next breath. I want to rip the house open. I want to tear down every barrier between us. I want her pinned beneath me, gasping my name instead of biting her lip to keep quiet.
A low sound leaves my throat. She arches slightly, fingers moving gently, and it snaps through me like a live wire. Just like that, pretty girl. Think of me to find your release. Fuck yourself and I’ll fix this as soon as possible.
I take one step toward her house before I even realize it. My vision sharpens and my fangs ache. My hands flex at my sides because every instinct I have demands I take what belongs to me. Rage hits me next. Pure, blistering anger that it’s not my body being used by her.
I want her pussy covering my mouth, my fingers, my control.
I want every sound she makes to be one I drag out of her.
Watching her touch herself while imagining me feels like torture.
The kind meant to break a man open. I force myself back a step.
Then another. The tree behind me is the only reason I don’t go to her. Must be a really strong fucking tree.
My voice slips out, low and rough with hunger, “God, I don’t want to leave, sweet Elowen.
You know who you belong to and if I stand here for a second longer I may not be able to stop myself from coming in there and tearing those fucking leggings right off your body.
” She moans lightly, unaware she’s technically answering me. It nearly breaks me.
I vanish into the dark before I lose the last bit of control I have left.