Page 29 of Scars of the Sun
Brody and Jess came back, all laughs and casual chatter, picked up the last of their stuff, and said goodbye. The front door closing behind them vibrated beneath my feet, though to them, it was probably just a soft thud.
“They actually know what they’re coming over for?” I raised a brow at him, teasing. Mostly.
He evidently took my words as a more serious accusation. His fangs descended, “I have some common decency. And the bagged shit gets old. What did you wanna talk about, because you’ve got that look on your face,” he waved a hand at me, as if my inner turmoil was distasteful.
I cocked my head and examined him a little more closely. I’d known vampires before, sure, but I could never call one of them a friend. And, though I’d never, ever say the words out loud, Ty was—my best friend. “Do vamps feel differently than we do? Like not as intensely or something?”
He returned my question with an exasperated glare and waved me behind him. I followed him up the hallway to the living room that was comprised of a sunken space decorated with leather couches, a thick glass coffee table, and a pristinefireplace. The windows to the left overlooked the manicured lawn that led to the forest beyond.
“We feel things differently like two humans feel things differently. It depends on the person, asshole.”
“Yeah,” I plopped down on the couch and put my socked feet up on the glass in front of us. At least, until a rage-filled glare from Ty made me drop them. “But don’t all the years and killing just… numb it all?”
He sat cross-legged, elbows resting on his thighs, and looked at me like I was completely and utterly full of shit. “And you’ve never killed anyone?” When I betrayed panic, wide-eyed before I got my features to settle, he tsked and pulled open a drawer hidden in the table. Tyler retrieved a small box and began to use its contents to pack and roll a blunt. “I can smell the death on you.”
I swallowed, fought to deny it or give some bullshit excuse, but the years reflected in my best friend’s eyes were truly well beyond his appearance. Nah, I wouldn’t bullshit him. It was probably what made me gravitate toward him in the first place. It wasn’t like he was the only non-human or only vampire in town.
Once the blunt was tightly rolled, he struck an honest-to-goodness match and lit up. His first drag was long, but when it was over, he sat back against the couch cushions, slouching further than he normally would.
When he offered it to me, I shrugged and put it to my lips. Instead of the weak human shit, the first taste of it made me shudder with anticipation. Recognition. I took a pull, drawing the smoke into my lungs, let it swirl and seep into my blood.
On my exhale, a cloud rushed from my mouth toward the ceiling, as did a round of coughs that let the drug seep in even further. “G-good shit,” I managed and passed it back. It’d been years since I touched the supernatural-grade stuff, after relyingon it for so many years to help me get through to the next day. But after striking out on my own, trying to find it was too much of a risk, and the human-grade shit made my throat raw without any of the benefits.
This, though, I could already feel taking effect. I leaned back into the leather beside Tyler, both of us looking at nothing in particular. Just breathing, smoking.
Through the smoky haze trailing around the room, I imagined Ramona’s face. The way her blank facade would twitch and crumble if I tickled her just right with my words or my touch. The way my Jaguar would rumble and long to pounce on her. To truly claim her, drag her beside me while I kept running.
“So, what did you really want to talk about?” Ty’s knowing question broke me out of my daydreaming, but I was already way too high to actually startle.
He passed me the blunt, now halfway gone, and I took another hit, trying to draw my words. What was I here to talk about? “I might…”
“See the Wolf girl as more than a convenient fuck?” His short black hair shuffled against the leather behind him as he turned to look at me. I did the same and took in his already-reddening eyes.
I tried my best to glare at him through the smoke while I coughed, but it’d pale in comparison to anything Ramona would manage. And then that got me thinking about the cute pout she’d get when I said something stupid. The irritation that I could so easily turn to desire with a whisper in her ear or a tender nip at her neck. What would it be like when I finally got to taste her and sink into that?—
“Ugh, if you’re gonna pop a boner and some heart eyes justthinkingabout her, you’re absolutely further gone than you think.”
I looked down at my lap, and, sure enough, my half-hard dick was evident through my jeans. Something about that made me laugh, but it came out more of a wheezing cough. And thenthatmade me cough for real.
Tyler slapped my back a few times while taking the last draw from the blunt until it was a spent roach that he tossed in the ashtray on the table. “But—” I tried and sputtered “—what do Idoabout her?”
“Whadoya mean ‘what do you do’? Itcan’tbe that different for you shifters. You spend time together, you fuck, you die, happyish-ever-after.”
“Happyish? I can’t just be happy?”
He snorted, “Not in my experience.”
My brain was too muddled to hang onto that enough to respond with something, my thoughts already drifting to the murky future that I didn’t even see clearly for myself. We’d met up more and more at the skate spot, me and Ramona, and each time, it felt… easy. Peaceful like hot coffee while watching the sunrise on a chilly morning. Normally, I got my dick wet and moved on to the next hole and next town.
Yeah, her tight throat was a fucking dream, but I’d only had itonce. Besides that, a few stolen moments we could snag at the spot when we were arriving or leaving. Like yesterday, when I’d walked her to her car after skating for hours in the humid night. She’d parked near my truck, so we took a detour. Those that were still skating were far away, but that didn’t stop me from sitting her in the passenger seat and pressing my hand between her legs until she came. To my surprise, she’d squeezed and moved her palm back and forth on my crotch until I was coming with her, in my jeans like a horny teenager. It was hot and frantic and sticky, the confines of our clothes only adding to it, and I had to tug at my pants now to relieve the pressure that was growing just from thinking about it.
The doorbell rang, melodic and lingering, and Tyler stood smoothly. “You already made it clear that I’m never fucking you, andIdon’t get fucked. So if you’re gonna keep doing that shit, you need to go to the bathroom and take care of yourself or leave.” On the way to the door, he mumbled, “Fucking stinking up my house,” and I couldn’t help huffing a laugh while continuing to adjust myself.
While Ty met his supper at the door, I started on rolling another blunt for us. I was in a pleasant, soupy place after the first, and there was no way in hell I was gonna be able to drive home. Luckily, he had at least two spare bedrooms and these comfy-ass couches to crash on.
If I thought he was gonna take his meal with linebacker shoulders and fiery red hair elsewhere, I was mistaken. They plopped down on one of the other couches in the living space, and my hands stilled as I tried to identify the guy that I could’ve sworn I’d met before. Max? Matthew? Adrian? Whatever.
“Hey, Río.” Welp. He knew my name, apparently. “You joining us?”