Chapter 10 #4
For the first time since I woke up, I take him in properly. Thankfully, he pulled on some of those cotton lounge pants he likes before David got here—at least, I hope it was before David got here. But his chest and feet are bare, and his usually smooth and tidy silver hair is mussed.
I really hate that I’m too sore to properly appreciate how hot he looks.
Also, what happens now? It’s the morning after. David knows. I’ve pretty much admitted that I don’t hate him… and if I’m being honest with myself, what we did last night wasn’t casual. In fact, if he told me now that it was fun but done, I’d be… upset.
Okay, I’d go after him with a fireball.
Which makes me feel like an idiot, because yesterday I was genuinely unsure if I could fuck him due to the level of not-liking I felt.
This sudden turnaround is weird. Am I the kind of person who can’t have sex in a bed without it having to mean something?
Is that even a thing? Or maybe it’s having sex with someone I know more than just to say hello to…
fuck knows I never had a conversation with any of the guys I hooked up with in high school.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, reaching out to push my hair off my forehead—my sweat-stiff hair that needed to be washed even before my exertions this morning. Still, it feels nice to be petted like that, and if he’s willing to touch it, who am I to protest?
“Not great.” I opt for honesty. “Even with the ibuprofen and the magic, the thought of moving around makes me want to cry.”
“Just as well you’re not going to be moving around, then.” He looks me right in the eye. “I’m sorry David found out”—my heart drops right into my stomach. I swear, it’s like my chest is suddenly empty—“without us discussing it first.”
Oh. Way to overreact, Noah.
“I get the feeling you were worried about other things when you called him,” I say dryly.
His eyes close for a second. When they open, the remnants of his worry are clear. “I didn’t know what the fuck had happened,” he admits. “And then you wouldn’t wake up, and your heart slowed right down.”
“What?” That’s… not good.
He nods. “Right after you passed out. At first it was going like crazy, the way it would after a major exertion, but then it slowed way more than it should have. That’s when I called David.”
The last remnants of regret about not being able to practice teleporting leaves me.
Being dead would not be fun. Although, according to what I’ve learned since my rescue, I’d move on to the spiritual plane for a while and potentially meet the current god before choosing to be reincarnated.
Which sounds like it could be cool, but I want to live this life before I move on to another.
There’s no guarantee my next life would be any better or even as good, or that I’d meet the same people.
Huh. After all my moaning and whining about wanting to move on from CSG and have a “normal” life again, I guess I’m actually comfortable with what I’ve got.
Which brings me back to the question of Andrew and whether my current possessiveness is an emotional reflex or if I’ve just been fooling myself all this time.
“It’s fine that David knows. If you don’t mind, I mean.” I hate that I sound so insecure, but then he smiles, and it’s not his usual smug smirk. It’s warm and private and says a thousand things I might not have believed if he’d said them out loud.
“I want David to know. And the others. I don’t think we should hide what’s between us.” What exactly that is, is left unspoken.
I nod. “Fine by me. Your bedroom is even better than mine, so I have no issue with that.” I’m teasing, of course, but it is true.
He laughs, then leans in and kisses me, and even though I’m sore all over and know it can’t lead to anything, I want that kiss more than I want anything else. It warms me from head to toe, rushes through me with tingling energy.
I was so fucking dumb to think I hated Andrew. This gentle kiss is everything.
David clears his throat from the doorway. “Breakfast.”
We pull apart, and if I had to say, I’d guess the soft, slightly unfocused expression on Andrew’s face matches mine. Yeah. Definitely not hate.
David bustles over with two trays floating in front of him, grinning widely.
I’m not actually sure which surprises me the most, the grin or the blatant display of his power.
I rarely see David actually use his ability—where I’m getting into the habit of turning off lights with the magic, he always does stuff like that manually.
Andrew draws away, settling in beside me, and David nudges one of the trays in his direction. On it is that blood-infused instant porridge he likes, two slices of toast with blood-and-berry jam, a glass of his blood-and-grapefruit juice, and a cup of fragrant hot tea.
I glance down at my tray as it comes to rest in my lap. David’s outdone himself. Scrambled eggs with peppers and spinach, two slices of thickly buttered toast, a bowl of freshly cut fruit topped with creamy Greek yogurt, orange juice, and coffee.
My stomach growls loudly. “You’re my favorite person in the world, David. Where’s yours?”
“In the kitchen. I’ve already eaten half, but I’ll grab the rest in a second. Leave the coffee until last, please. Let’s wait and see if there’s any improvement before we introduce caffeine to your system.”
My mouth is already too full of eggs to reply, so I just nod.
I haven’t been drinking as much coffee lately anyway—using the magic has made me very aware of the flow of energy within my body, and caffeine seems to alter it.
I’m not going to cut it out, but I’m definitely more aware of how much I drink and when.
By the time I’ve polished off my food, I’m shocked by how much better I feel. I’m still using the magic to dull the pain, but the part it’s not helping with is almost gone.
But I’m still hungry.
“So,” I begin as David stacks plates and trays to minimize how much needs to be carried back to the kitchen, “I think it’s an energy thing.”
“What’s an energy thing?” Andrew asks absently, looking at something on his phone.
“Teleportation and how I’m feeling now. I think that even though the power is coming from the magic, the heavy lifting involved in…
I don’t know. Directing a teleport? Steering it?
Requesting it? We need to come up with some terminology.
Anyway, that comes from me. And since it’s not something the human body is supposed to be able to do, it used up my energy stores.
Which is why I’m weak and sore and starving. ”
David looks thunderstruck. “Demons do tend to have more body mass than the other species,” he muses. “And they eat almost as much as hellhounds. It would make sense for teleportation to need a greater store of muscle and fat to draw from.”
“Which means more food and maybe some protein drinks should make you feel better sooner,” Andrew adds. “I’ll go make second breakfast. David, do you know of any decent protein shakes that are good for humans? I have a couple, but Noah doesn’t like blood.”
“Leave it with me.” He whips out his phone. “I’ll run out and grab them as soon as you’re back to sit with Noah. You could probably do with stocking up on groceries too, since we don’t know how long Noah’s going to be eating extra for.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. “ Sit with me? I don’t need someone to sit with me here in this room. As long as you’re in the apartment and check every once in a while that I’m still alive, that’s good.”
David looks doubtful, and Andrew opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “What are you going to do, watch me sleep like some kind of creeper? No, thanks.”
“He has a point,” David says reluctantly. “He’s awake and aware, and all his vitals are normal. He probably doesn’t need to be watched every minute.”
Andrew sets his jaw, and I decide that distraction is the key here. “I’m really hungry,” I say plaintively. “Could we talk about this later?”
That seems to do it, because he shoots me a warning look and then leaves, grumbling about stubborn puny humans. Is it weird that “puny human” is starting to feel like an endearment?
When I pull my gaze away from the way the soft cotton drapes over his ass and slides with every step, I see David smiling at me.
“What?” I can’t keep from sounding defensive. “He’s got a really great butt.” Oops. I probably should have kept that to myself. The team is close, but I doubt they’re that close.
“I like this.” He waves a hand to encompass the apartment and the whole situation. “For both of you. You really fit.”
I blink. Is he serious? Here I am struggling to come to terms with what I actually feel, and he thinks we fit . What does that even mean, anyway?
“Are you high?” I ask politely, and he laughs.
“No, I mean it. It’s taken me a while to see it, but you complement each other really well. And you’re a lot more alike than you think.”
Now I really wonder if he’s high. He must see it on my face, because he pats my arm and says, “Seriously. I know he comes across as immature, but that’s just because he’s had to be mature for so long.
Trust me, Noah. I’ve known Andrew almost all my life.
He loves to tease and kid around, but when the situation warrants it, there’s nobody more capable in a crisis.
The two of you are the same in that regard.
Plus, you have so many interests in common. ”
I can’t argue with that, because it’s true. Despite me having convinced myself we don’t get along, Andrew and I spent a hell of a lot of time talking over the past month.
“It’s just weird,” I mutter finally. “I’ve been so sure I didn’t like him, and now…”