Page 40 of Pucking Vamps
Carlos’ eyes go a little wide, his neutral expression softening. “Your aunt would be so happy if she heard about your dilemma,” he muses, smoothing out my tie. “But well, I understand your worry. Giving up your humanity by choice is… probably not an easy thing to do. Even for your lover.”
I wince and my assistant doesn’t miss it. “That’s the thing. Our arrangement is a little complicated, and he’s not aware that I am serious about him. It started as no-strings attached sex.”
Carlos herds me out of my office and toward the elevator. “Have you spoken to him?”
I run a hand through my hair, slicking it back. “He’s been distant these past few days. Smiling and laughing less. Not looking me in the eye. I’m not sure now is a good idea… or that he will believe me. He’s also been extremely busy and we barely see each other.”
The elevator dings as we reach the conference rooms floor, the two of us stepping out together. “Then perhaps you should just show him. Via your actions.”
“I just told you I don’t even see him much,” I grumble, pausing in front of the room where the people from Brax Robotics are already seated and waiting.
“It’s the little things, Mr. Adetu. Not the big flashy ones. That’s how you worm your way into someone’s heart. Give it a try.”
Carlos shoves the door open before I can argue back, but as I greet the visitors and introduce myself, his words settle in me, unleashing a dozen ideas about how I can make Hayden smile again.
Hayden comes home earlier the next evening, sweaty but bright-eyed.
“Jesus!” he startles as he enters the lounge, noticing me draped over the couch only after he’s turned the lights on. “You scared me. Why are you sitting in the dark?”
I sit up, picking up the wineglass from the coffee table and sipping from it. The liquid is chilled and pleasant as it trickles down my throat. “I was waiting for you.”
A conflicting emotion washes over his face, but he schools his expression quickly enough so I can’t read it. “You didn’t have to. I’m tired and… I’m gonna go straight to bed.”
“Watch a game with me?” I turn on the TV, the recording I acquired an hour ago already loaded.
His frowning eyes shift from me to the screen, his hands clenching into fists. A second passes, then another, his heart rate going from slightly elevated to agitated after the third.
“Holy shit! Is this…?” He twists his head back at me, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging as if I’ve taken him to a hockey store and told him I’ll buy everything he wants. Which is not a bad idea. I think I can squeeze it in tomorrow after Guitar lecture and before his evening practice starts. “Is this today’s practice?”
I nod, patting the space on the couch next to me. “I also got snacks.” The doorbell rings with perfect timing. “That must be the pizza and ice cream.”
Montgomery appears a minute later with our food, laying it out on the table. Wishing us bon appétit, he retreats upstairs.
Still looking like a deer caught in headlights, Hayden plops down next to me, crossing his legs under him and hugging one of the cushions to his chest. I wish it was me he’s holding on to with such vigor, but I keep that to myself.
“How the fuck did you get your hands on a Havana Gators’ practice game? From today?”
I stroke his shorts-clad thigh, the contact eliciting a pleasant hum in me even though the fabric prevents me from having the skin-to-skin I crave with my entire being. But this is about Hayden and not me; my urges can wait. “I have friends in the right places. And money. You can share the video with your team tomorrow.”
Hayden curses under his breath, shooting me a radiant grin. My heart melts, my stomach fluttering with excitement and satisfaction. He’s ten times more alluring when he is smiling because of me. I must ensure it happens as often as possible.
Grabbing a slice of greasy human food that I can still enjoy despite my bloodsucking diet, I start the recording. We watch in companionable silence, Hayden’s focus on the game as he shoves pizza in his mouth.
“You should watch out for their center. He’s got a nasty fake shot to backhand,” I say, pointing at the TV as Number 10 executes said move and scores.
I can feel the weight of Hayden’s stare. “How the fuck do you know what fake shots and backhands are? I understand learning basic rules, but recognizing things takes practice!”
Turning slowly his way, I hold his pretty hazel gaze. “I picked up on some things after watching all of your games I could get my hands on. You are beautiful when you are on the ice, Hayden. I suspected it, but I didn’t know how true it was. I would really love to take you out when you have a free day. And maybe watch you practice. If that would be okay?”
The air between us charges with something. Tension spreads through my body, delicious and titillating. His eyes devour me, his pulse pounding so hard I can feel it reverberate through me even though we aren’t currently touching.
I want to kiss him. To have him. To make love to him.
But I don’t do any of that. I just look at him as my skin tingles and sparks travel down my spine, etching the wondrous and raw expression he’s showing me into memory.
“That was kind of cheesy,” he says after another minute of terse silence, laughing it off. “But also true. I am amazing on the rink. And… if you wanted to, I’m sure Coach would let you sit in during practice.”
Eyes back on the game, he tucks his knees in, hugging them now that he’s no longer in possession of the cushion, and places his head on top. We discuss the plays as they happen, and he even notes down a few things on his phone. He’s buzzing with energy by the time we finish, looking way too awake for twelve in the evening.