Chapter 8 Ezra
Suggested Listening: Delicate by Taylor Swift
I t takes all of my willpower to keep from reaching over and pulling Gracie back against me. For the last six hours and twenty-nine minutes she’s been snuggled up to me, drooling on my chest, completely naked. The naked part is honestly a bonus. It’s the having her in my arms bit that makes this feel like a dream. I’ve wanted the chance to hold her when she wasn’t crying and sad from the very beginning. If all of that time on the office sofa passing her tissues has led to this, I’ll take it. Whatever the work is, I’m happy to do it. And if it’s my mouth she wants, I’m happy to serve.
No one in my life has ever gone out of their way to help me like she has. With every kind word, every thoughtful action, I’ve fallen more and more in love with her.
Which is another kind of problem. Will I repeat my past mistakes? Or have I learned? Can I be the man she deserves? Or will I destroy this like my last relationship?
It’s a constant fight to not plaster myself to her side and cling to her.
I need a fucking hobby.
She groans in her sleep and turns onto her back. Her other hand flops over onto Vyslan before sliding down to tangle in the blankets. The big demon blinks at her, barely awake, and smiles as she begins to root through the blankets toward him.
When we crawled into bed, he shrank to a more human size. Said it was better for cuddling. I’m not exactly sure when, but he went back to being full size. The good news is that his fire-hair doesn’t scorch the pillows. His horns do get hooked into the iron work, though. He yawns and finally catches me watching. The corners of his mouth quirk up and he winks. Almost the very next moment, he’s asleep again.
I curl up on my side and watch them for a few minutes.
Since becoming whatever I am, I’ve seen and met a lot of things I used to think were made up. Vyslan is my first demon, but I’d heard stories before. Mostly from the girls, or really Poppy. She’s never said why she hates demons so much, but the distaste is strong. I suppose it’s a good thing Vyslan will end up going home, even if I wish he’d stay.
My ass puckers as I think about what I did to him last night. Not just the first time, but after Gracie tapped out, too. I can’t blame the witchweed or his powers for all of it. Some of that was all me.
I’ve had feelings for a few guys before, but things didn’t work out. I was willing to try. They never were. But even before that, I have to vibe with someone the right way to feel any attraction, and that feeling hasn’t always been with women. I’ve been around sex enough to know that I want it to mean something. Plus, with the way I grew up I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that someone is always watching. So I never took that step. Until now.
I know when I was turned, the mindless hunger was driving me to bite and feed. But I also like to think I was zoning in on someone with just the right vibe. Someone I knew would help me. So maybe ending up here with Gracie is some kind of fate. I might not like being a vampire, but I’ll deal with it if it means having Gracie in my life. If I’m strong enough to protect her from whatever comes her way.
These two—Gracie and Vyslan—are in synch. They feel like a steady, rolling rhythm. The bass beat you can build a song on, and it calls to me. I want to dive in there and hold on to them both. I want them so badly, it frightens me.
Every time I get like this? Every time I allow myself to get my hopes up? Things go to hell. So my stomach is in knots while I want to just enjoy the good while it lasts.
I hear someone moving around in the main part of the house. There’s no telling who is out there. Gracie is the only one of the three that has anything resembling a normal routine.
If I don’t get out of this bed, I’ll wake either Gracie or Vyslan staring. I’d rather not get labeled a weirdo yet . That’s the sort of thing you have to ease people into. And I’ve been working on easing Gracie into my brand of weird for a while now. I won’t ruin it over some extended eye contact.
Slipping out of bed, I find my clothes and dress in the dark. I’m not sure if she’s got blackout curtains or a spell, but even I can just barely see.
I emerge into a sunlit kitchen and squint at the figures moving around.
“Oh, goddess!” Poppy shrieks. “Ezra! Fuck. Don’t creep up on a girl like that.”
“Sorry,” I croak.
Briella giggles. “Someone used you hard last night.”
My vision clears enough to see Poppy cringe and Briella roll her eyes. They’re both wearing fluffy house robes. Poppy’s is bright green with white daisies all over it. Briella’s robe is a pink leopard print. Which makes me wonder, what does Gracie’s robe look like?
I rub my face and shamble to the stool at the counter. When I drop my hand, I find both Briella and Poppy leaning on the counter opposite me on the island, staring.
“What?” I ask and wipe at my face.
“There’s nothing on your face,” Briella snaps.
Poppy’s eyes go wide and she leans forward, whispering, “What happened last night?”
“Oh. Uh.” I gesture toward the bedroom. “You know.”
“No!” Poppy whisper-yells and throws her hands up in the air. “We. Do. Not. Know. That’s why we’re asking you .”
“Oh.” Talk about personal, but I suppose summoning is literally their business, and I fucked the product. Kind of. But not really at all. Fuck. “Vys—the demon—asked me to fuck him in the ass.”
Poppy slashes her hands through the air. “Wow. Not what I meant.”
“I want to know,” Briella mutters and grins at me.
“You just said you wanted to know what happened, then say it’s TMI when I tell you.” I flop my hands on the counter. “What do you want to know, Pops?”
“Did you and Gracie…” Poppy gestures wildly at the wall with big, circular arm movements. “Make progress?”
I suck in my cheeks as I realize what my friend is awkwardly trying to ask me.
How many times have I wanted to ask their opinion on something regarding my feelings and Gracie? Damn it. I should have said something.
The three of us continue to stare at each other in silence for another few moments while I collect my thoughts.
“I don’t know that I’d call it progress. Vys’ pheromones, or whatever they are, really fuck with your head. I think I’d have liked to approach things in a different way, but I don’t regret what happened.”
“But you do want to do it again?” Briella asks.
“One hundred percent yes.”
Poppy and Briella whirl to face each other and high five as they do this bug-eyed thing where they get in each other’s faces and squeal. I’m pretty sure there’s a bird in Africa who wants someone to know these two have stolen their mating dance.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” I ask.
They whirl back to face me, grinning.
“It might be nothing.” Briella shrugs.
Poppy nods. “Exactly. Nothing at all.”
“Mm. Hm.” Briella grabs a half-drank mug from the other side of the stove. “And saying something before the egg has hatched…”
Poppy sighs. “Well, we all know that’s just dumb.”
“I get it,” I grumble.
They look at me with bright eyes and tight grins.
“How long?” Briella asks and I know what she means.
Fuck. We’re just going to talk about it all, I guess.
I stretch my arms and groan as I consider the question. But really, there’s only one answer. “Since the beginning. My eyes popped open, I saw her, and that was it.”
There’s no denying that my abandonment issues are almost a stereotype. I learned after my fiancé left me that I had to deal with my shit. And that’s what I’ve been doing the last few years. I’m better. The knee-jerk urge to cling to people that bring me comfort isn’t as bad. More than therapy, I attribute that to Gracie.
I can talk about my issues until there aren’t words left. But nothing has helped heal those feelings of inferiority like the weekly potion pickup with Gracie. I didn’t ask her to do this. She just told me after we broke my sire’s hold to show up once a week. And she’s been there for me. A solid rock when everyone else has been sand. And I love her for it. She didn’t have to help me. But she chose to. And she continues to prioritize my needs above her own sometimes. How can I not love that?
“Wow. That’s so sweet,” Poppy whispers. “I still wish Puck would get his head out of his ass.”
Briella cringes. “I know. Me, too.”
I bite my tongue. It’s enough that Poppy and Briella seem to approve of the idea of me being with Gracie. What they think will matter. It’s just so damn irritating how they bring up Puck and how great he was. How they want him to come back around and fix things. But where would that leave me?
I can be a great boyfriend, too.
Though this might be a witch thing. Every female witch that’s showed up to the shop has had at least two husbands with her, and I’ve overheard some talk about when the girls will settle down and start picking their own husbands. As in plural.
Would a vamp and a demon do? A guy can dream.
The click of the bedroom door makes my spine go straight. I stop breathing and strain to hear the fabric rustling and the plod of sleepy legs. I twist slightly and see Gracie shuffle in much the same way I did, rubbing her face and groaning.
Her robe is purple with black spider webs. And the spiders are wearing little pink bows. I can’t help but grin at how cute it is.
Briella cringes. “Oh, that’s not a good sign.”
“Gracie, give me fingers,” Poppy says.
Gracie’s arms are curled close to her chest, holding the purple robe closed as she stares at her fingers. It takes her a few seconds to get three fingers on her left curled down before holding up seven.
“Seven?” I glance between them. “What’s a seven?”
“Oh, baby. Okay. Come on.” Poppy sweeps out her arm and ushers Gracie toward the sofa. “I’ll get the heating pad turned on. Do you want the big blanket?”
I look helplessly at Briella. She waves me over toward the stove.
“What’s a seven?” I whisper.
“Pain. A seven is a standard bad day . Honestly, I was expecting it after Puck. I was hoping you might blunt it, but…” Briella bugs her eyes out at me, but this time it’s not a cute gesture of joy. She sets a kettle on the stove and turns the burner on. “He should have sent flowers and a card first. What was he thinking? Anyway, Puck, the summoning, the stress, then the demon and whatever you three got up to last night? That’s going to make a high pain day.”
“Shit,” I mutter. “So, this is my fault?”
“No.” Briella squeezes my shoulder with one hand while pulling a small tin out of a drawer. “No, that’s not what I mean at all . Besides, she’ll kick your ass if you talk like that. Look, you’re going to earn boyfriend points, okay? That’s the focus here. Ignore whatever I said that distracted you from this focus.”
“Got it.”
“We’re going to make tea, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re going to take the tea to her.”
I squint at Briella. “Walking tea across a room shouldn’t be worth points. I’m not against earning them. I just think the bar is a little low.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t Puck, so we have to start somewhere.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
I bite my tongue and pay attention as Briella hums to herself and throws a pinch of a few things into the teapot.
“Is the demon still here?” she whispers.
“Yeah. Last I saw.”
“Gracie is going to complain, but she needs to stay home today. Okay? And I want you to stay with her. I don’t think demons are inherently evil, like Pops, but I’m also not leaving my best friend home alone with a guy we don’t know. Especially when I’d like you to get some time with her.”
“Who is going to open the shop without me?” I ask.
“I texted Zephyr. He said he didn’t mind. And Jenn is going to come in early. Will this mess with your hours?”
“Nah. Besides, nowhere else I’d like to be.”
“Good answer. It really sucks that Puck was always so territorial and couldn’t share. The two of you would have made a great team.”
I don’t point out that as a former human, the idea of sharing a partner is still weird to me. Sometimes it’s painfully clear Briella was raised in witch culture.
She strains the tea, adds some honey to a mug, pours the tea over it, then drops a spoon into it, and hands it to me.
Poppy has positioned Gracie on the sofa facing the front of the house wrapped in a large, gray fuzzy blanket so only her face and hair are visible. I come around to sit on an overstuffed ottoman on her right while Briella and Poppy rush upstairs to get ready to head into the store.
I’d almost think Gracie was asleep except for the way her nose twitches.
When the footsteps receded overhead, her eyes pop open. “Did Briella make the tea?”
“Uh, yes.”
Gracie grimaces and shakes her head. “Pour it out. Quick. Before she comes back down. If she asks, I drank it. Understood?”
I nod. “Got it.”
Puck might have Briella and Poppy on his side, but I’ve got Gracie’s trust.
I take the mug to the kitchen sink and dump it out, giving it a good rinse.
This is it. My one shot at being a better boyfriend than Puck. I don’t need the others on my side. All I want to do is prove to Gracie I can be there for her in more ways than simply handing her a tissue.
A moment later, Briella flies down the stairs with Poppy close behind her. They’re both wearing full make-up and outfits despite having a very rolled-out-of-bed look only moments ago. Magic. It’s wild.
I brace my hand against the counter and wave at them. “She just drank the whole thing.”
“Really?” Briella brightens. “That’s great! Gracie—”
“No. Leave now,” Gracie calls from the sofa.
Briella huffs as she gathers some things from the dining table. “You don’t have to snap, you know?”
“I’m sorry. You’re wonderful. Thanks for the tea. Kindly get the fuck out.”
Poppy just rolls her eyes and grins. “Yeah. Yeah. We’re going.”
“Prove it,” Gracie croaks.
“Have a good day, ladies. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I call after them as they head for the front door.
“I think there’s a lot you’ll do that I wouldn’t!” Poppy shouts over her shoulder.
Heat claws its way up my neck and my ears burn. Maybe I should have been more circumspect about what I said earlier.
The two witches leave like a whirlwind. The house is eerily silent on the heels of their departure.
“What can I get you to drink? And are you hungry?” Food isn’t something I can handle any more in large quantities. Toast, an edible here and there, that’s fine. Rare meat is about the only food I can do in substantial amounts. Liquids go down easier, but they don’t taste the same after becoming a vampire. Too many weird chemicals I can actually taste now.
“Will you get me a tall glass of chocolate milk? Then bring the purple canister on top of the breadbox over here?”
“Coming right up.”
It’s not a challenge, but it’s the direction I need to put me onto the path of being a good boyfriend. Next time there’s a pain day, I’ll remember this combo.
I grab a tall glass out of the cabinet, shake the carton, then pour a reasonable amount.
That should do it.
The canister gets tucked under my arm.
I bring both items to the sofa, where Gracie is still swaddled in her robe and blanket. She takes the glass first, gulping almost half the contents. I sit on the coffee table and pry the tin open for her. I’ve seen her struggle with it a time or two. If she’s already hurting, I don’t want this to be difficult, too.
“Thank you. That thing is a pain, but Poppy loves it.” She extends her hand. “Hand me one?”
I peer into the container. There are homemade gummies stacked between layers of wax paper. “Whole or half?”
She hums and scrunches her brow. “Half right now. Then the other half in a little bit.”
There’s a small cheese knife stashed inside. I use that to cut the gummy diagonally the way I’ve seen her do before, using the canister lid as a plate. I offer her the tacky treat and she pops it between her lips. Her nose wrinkles a bit.
“Do they taste planty?” I ask. We get customers in the store wanting to taste the weed less and they often call some of the more powerful edibles planty .
“No more than usual. We do a wash step that cuts down on it, but there’s really no getting around it. If you want one, you’re more than welcome.”
“Maybe later,” I say slowly. A lot has happened and I think it’s best if I’m sober enough to take care of her. That’s my goal.
She swallows the gummy down, then returns her focus to the chocolate milk. I’ve been around the shop long enough to understand the science behind their recipe for the cannabis gummies and how the medicinal properties will bond to fats in the stomach, allowing for better absorption from a smaller dose. When she’s done, she hands me the glass and closes her eyes.
I’m greedy for contact, so I take her now empty hand and begin massaging all the delicate tissue. It’s when I get up past her wrist that she moans.
“Fuck, that feels good,” she mutters.
“Anything else I can do?” I ask softly.
“No. This is pretty great,” she whispers. I’m enjoying the moment and watching her when her eyes fly open and she sits up. “Shit. We are supposed to talk.”
“We are?” I nudge her shoulder. “Lie back down, Gracie.”
She flops onto the cushions and chews her lip while staring down at the fuzzy material. While she was asleep, I combed out her hair and braided it. She’s wound it into a bun on top of her head and driven a black lacquered hair stick through it with little polished rocks decorating the surface that glint in the sunshine.
I brace myself for the question I’m not sure I want to ask. “What is it we’re supposed to talk about?”
She snorts and looks up at me. “Last night, obviously.”
There’s this uncertainty in the way she glances at me. Normally, she’s very direct with her eye contact. The fact she is nervously chewing her lower lip and glancing all around surprises me.
“Did I… Did I bite you too hard?” I ask as dread settles in.
Her eyes go wide and she lifts her hand to cover the spot on her neck. It’s mostly healed, but the skin is pink and the puncture wounds are still little divots in her skin. They’ll be gone by sunset. “What? No! No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Ezra. Shit.”
Gracie cradles her head and sighs.
I’m in love with her. Which makes me incredibly self-conscious about what comes next. I want to tell her all of it. How I feel. How much she’s changed my life. But I also know I can be overwhelming. It’s something I’ve had to work on.
“I’m scared you’re going to tell me last night was a mistake,” I say softly.
“It wasn’t. I just…”
“I know you’re hurting, Gracie. And I don’t mean physical pain. I like to think I know better than anyone how much you’ve been bottling it all up inside. I also know I’m… I’m scared of telling you how I feel because it might be too much. I might be too much.”
“What?” She drops her hand and looks at me. “Ezra, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I… I don’t want to fuck things up. I cannot lose you as the store manager. But…”
“You couldn’t lose me, Gracie. I wouldn’t let you. You’re stuck with me. Not because of the potion or the job or anything else. You don’t have any idea what you mean to me. I’m scared that if I try to tell you, it’ll be too much.”
We stare at each other for several long moments. Despite all the time we’ve spent together, there’s a lot of my history I’ve kept secret. Stuff I don’t tell anyone in my adult life because I left all of that behind. But I can start to ease her into that truth, can’t I?
“Everyone in my life that should have cared about me has always wanted something from me,” I say. I’m not ready to tell her all of it, but I can start here. “It’s always been about what I can do for them. And when I’ve needed a friend or help or just someone to answer the damn phone? No one has ever been there. And then I wound up here, and you… You took control. I wasn’t alone. Then you gave me a job and a place to belong. You have no idea what that’s meant to me.”
“I’d do that for a friend. Ezra, you don’t—”
“Gracie. I knew what I felt for you the moment I opened my eyes. I’ve always been… I guess I’ve always been an empathetic person. Before I can be attracted to someone, I have to… This is going to sound stupid, but I have to vibe with someone. It’s hard to explain. It’s almost like… Every person has a frequency. A vibe. If it doesn’t match…” I shrug. “It won’t work.”
The corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly. “And you’re saying we vibe?”
“We’re in complete harmony.” I’ll leave out Vyslan for now. I’m lobbying for myself here. “I know I’m not part of your world, and I don’t have much to offer. If there’s the ghost of a chance you’re interested in me… Well, I’ve got to say something.”
Gracie stares at me. Her pretty plush lips form an O. Her lashes flutter. And that feeling of rightness sets a steady thump, thump, thump beat in my chest.
She tugs on my hand and I lean forward. That’s when she grabs a handful of my shirt and pulls me forward until I’m looming over her, hands braced on the sofa as she kisses me.
As suddenly as it began, she turns her head, groaning in pain.
“What is it? What did I do?” I ask.
She holds up her hand and massages her brow with the other. “Not you. Just the ice pick to the skull. Normal headache bullshit. The gummy will help.”
“Oh.” I deflate and sink onto the floor between the coffee table and the sofa.
Her headaches have been a constant issue since we met. I wonder if there’s something I can do for her?
She blows out a breath. “It’s passing. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Anything I can do?”
“Nope.”
“Have you… I’m sorry if this is overstepping, but have you seen a doctor?”
“What? Why didn’t I think of that?” she deadpans then turns her face to look at me. The corners of her mouth twitch upward. “Yes. And there’s nothing they can do for me. I need a hysterectomy, but no one will do it. If I go out of state, they’ll say I’m too young. If I go to a doctor connected to our world in any form, they’ll refuse to do it because of the coven. Basically, I’m fucked. Sorry. I thought I’d told you that. It’s not a secret.”
I’m still full-body cringing. “That was a dickish thing to say, wasn’t it?”
“Not coming from you. I know you care about me…” Her eyes widen, and she glances away. With her darker complexion, it was harder to tell if she is blushing, but I can sense the heightened blood flow to her face easily enough.
“You’re right. I do care. And you won’t have to tell me anything twice. I got it. I really, really like you, Gracie.” I tap my head, never looking away from her. Love. Obsessed. Devoted. Those are more accurate words for how I’m feeling, but I’ll go with like for now and ease her into things.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m just so used to people being all, I take two Excedrine, have a hot shower, and it’s handled. Like, great for you, but my uterus is a literal basketball of scar tissue, thanks. So not the same thing.”
I frown as I work through her words. And doctors won’t do anything to help her? I know Gracie started micro-dosing with cannabis in her teens to manage the pain, which was why she went to college and eventually that is what led to her wanting to open Witchweed Dispensary. I just never knew how serious her condition was.
“Ask,” she says. “You’re wondering what the hell is going on, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but we can talk later if you’re not up to it.”
She reaches over and weaves our fingers together. My un-dead heart dances in my chest and I have to remind myself over and over again to remain calm. “You always seem to know the right volume I can tolerate. I really don’t want to think about how I’m feeling right now, so the distraction is nice. I have Endometriosis and Adenomyosis. Combined, they’ve made scar tissue of my uterus until it’s basically unusable. The excess hormones they create are what cause my migraines. My value to the coven is as a baby maker. But they won’t listen to my diagnosis because it doesn’t fit their vision for my future as a baby maker.”
“Fuck…” I knew it had to be serious, but I never could have guessed this was what she was living with. “And there isn’t a spell or anything you can try? Something you haven’t already tried, I mean?”
“Magic is good for a lot of things. And I do have a spell I’ve written that helps keep the endo in check, somewhat. It’s not great, but it is helping to slow the spread of the endo cells into the rest of my body, which is crucial. Eventually, I will either leave here or find a doctor to do the surgery. But even once that’s handled, the pain won’t go away. It’s spread too much.”
I lean forward and kiss her hand. I’ve got some reading to do. I never slept much to begin with, and now I only sleep a few hours a week. That leaves plenty of time to grab a few books and read up on whatever those words were. Shit. I’m going to have to ask her to repeat them later.
“You’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do to help?”
She ducks her head and picks at the blanket. “I feel like shit right now.”
“The gummy will kick in soon.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not about that. I mean… You’ve been there for me, and I—”
“Gracie, I want to stop you right there. You have been there for me more than anyone else in my life. Anytime I had questions, needed help, or was just being pathetic—you were there. I’m happy to return the favor. And so everything is out in the open, I’ve been feeling kind of uncomfortable not telling you how I felt. Like, I was tricking you into thinking of me as a friend. I was going to tell you. I just… I wanted to wait until the Puck stuff was behind you more. I can be attracted to you and still just be friends if that’s what you want. I’m not a nice-guy jerk.”
“No.” She shakes her head and pulls my hand further onto her lap so she can clasp both hands around it. “Here’s the deal. I had a crush on Puck since I was a teenager. A massive, probably unhealthy crush. And yes, he was a model boyfriend when he was around. But he’s also fae, and he fits the stereotype.”
“What stereotype?”
“The fae are long-lived and cutthroat. When it comes to relationships, the stereotype is that they burn hot, then vanish on you. That’s because they only respect two types of pairings. A power match or a fated match. A power match is with fae who have magic or social sway or something of value with someone either on their level or above them. It’s customary to basically trade blackmail so you’re always going to look out for each other to cover your own ass. It’s the type of match most fae have. Then there are fated matches. People who meet and their souls are immediately connected. The fae don’t love like we do. It was foolish of me to fall for Puck and expect him to not be fae. I should have learned my lesson the first time he disappeared on me. Yes, vanishing the way he did hurt. But more than anything I’m just… Ashamed. Disappointed in myself.”
“No. No, Gracie.”
“But that’s not the only thing, Ezra.” She stares at me, her eyes so sad. “I might have been raised human for the first part of my life, but as soon as we found out I’m from an unknown, powerful witch line? I’ve had everyone telling me to get ready to have at least three husbands—minimum. I guess I should have realized I was destined to be a baby maker.”
“Sorry, what?”
She sighs. “I’m not annoyed with you, just so we’re clear. I’ve told you about the war, right? Well, my coven is one of those that just won’t give up. There’s a lot of fighting between some covens. And that means that a lot of people die. All witches are expected to have at least three kids. One to go fight the stupid not-war. One to be a good little grunt and make money for the coven. And one to either be a baby maker or an elder. I always saw myself as a grunt, but I guess they didn’t want to give me the option.”
I blink at her a few times. “I have no words…”
She shrugs. “So you can see why it was pretty selfish of Puck to want to be my only boyfriend, right? I let him dictate my choices. I’ve liked you for maybe not as long as you’ve liked me, and we both let Puck have that control. He was so jealous all the time. I had to constantly sooth his ego that you and I were just friends . It was exhausting, and it gave me anxiety every day. And why? Because he was my childhood crush? Fuck that.” She ends her speech by rubbing her forehead.
There was so much information packed into those few moments I’m reeling a little. I’ve never been part of an open relationship. It’s not something I’d choose for myself, but if I think about last night? If there was someone like Vyslan in the mix? I could be into that. I could really be into that. And if I put my own insecurities aside, having more guys around to look after Gracie would mean she could work less and take care of herself more. When I think about it from that angle, it doesn’t sound so bad.
“Gracie?”
“Hm?”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
She squints at me. “What is this, a train? You don’t have to announce—oof!”
I don’t mean to launch myself at her, but sometimes I forget what vampire strength and speed mean. She chuckles against my lips and curls her hands over my shoulders as our lips slide against each other. I feel like I’m a kid again, fumbling in a dark corner out of sight from the production crew.
Gracie pushes on my shoulder and I ease back, but only to the point that our noses touch. I’m just not willing to get any farther from her. “Not to spoil the mood, but—Vyslan? Where the fuck is he?”
“Uh, in the bedroom?” I push up only for her to grab me by the front of my shirt and pull me back down to kneeling next to her.
“Are you…? Last night, I mean…”
“I like him.” I swallow and ignore the way heat crawls up my neck and how my ears burn. “I’ve never—you know—been with a guy. But I’ve had feelings for guys before. Just never met someone who liked me enough to take that risk. Or at least someone I liked and could trust. Trust was always a big part of it.”
Gracie snorts. “What kind of shitty people have you been around, Ezra?”
Fuck, I love her.
I kiss the tip of her nose to keep those words in.
“I’m sad he’ll be leaving. I kind of wish he’d stay,” I whisper.
“He’s a seriously powerful demon, Ezra. He seems pretty cool. We just need to be careful. The house wouldn’t honestly let him stay if he had any kind of bad intention.”
“Oh. Cool.” I glance up at the ceiling then the window. “Thanks, housey.”
The floorboards under me shift like little claps saying, you’re welcome .
Gracie chuckles and smooths my shirt against my chest. “So this heat business…”
I don’t dare hope she’s into it. “Having second thoughts?”
“No. The opposite, actually. I can be… Uptight. Without his help, I wouldn’t have said a thing to you for ages. Maybe never. I don’t know. I’m grateful to him for that, but I also just think he’s a neat guy. I’m not so sure about him staying what with Poppy’s history…” She chews her lip. “You were really into him last night.”
Fuck. My stomach knots and it feels like there are pins in my chest.
“What’s with that face?” Gracie reaches over and smooths her fingers over my brow and cheeks. “That wasn’t a judgement. Ezra, if you’re bi or whatever, I don’t care. Honestly? The idea of boyfriends that are also dating each other would take the pressure off me feeling like I’d need to divide my time so much. From a practical standpoint, I like it.”
“Uh… You do?”
She chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch that wants a little time to myself.”
Selfish isn’t a word I’d use to describe her. She’s younger than me, yet she’s so much more mature than I ever was. If I’d had better boundaries, if I’d understood myself better, maybe my life would be different. But that would also mean I wouldn’t be here now.
“Oh, boy. The gummy just hit,” she mutters.
“What do you say to a movie day? We can change the sheets and I can get you whatever you want.”
I can see the impact of the gummy. Her body language relaxes and her voice loses that hard edge. I just want to wrap her up and hold her for hours. And now I get to.
I’m not going to fuck this up.