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I don’t know how I’m supposed to give this up when he leaves to go back home…to his father.
10
ANY OTHER QUESTIONS?
My eyelids flutter open, and I experience a moment of panic as I try to remember where I am and how I got here. I relax when I realize I’m in my own bed, then tense up again as memories of my last waking moments flood in.
Jesse, appearing in my apartment, being all alpha and protective.
Telling me one taste wasn’t enough. That he wanted more.
Commanding me to tell him what I wanted, then giving me exactly that.
His bite sending me over the edge.
A single word, repeated over and over, making me come again and again. And again.
“Hey.”
My body levitates off the mattress for a split second as that deep voice startles me out of the memory. My head whips toward my left, and Jesse’s smile somehow settles my nerves and whips them into a frenzy simultaneously.
“Hey,” I croak, then clear my throat. “You’re still here.”
“I’d tell you I like watching you sleep, but that’s kind of creepy, so I won’t,” he says with a soft smirk.
“You’re right. It is creepy,” I reply, rolling on my side to face him, mirroring his position. “How long have I been out?”
“A couple of hours,” he says, lifting a hand to brush a lock of hair back from my face and tucking it behind my ear.
“You’ve been watching me sleep for two hours?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“That’s not so long,” he says softly. “Not for me.”
“Right,” I mumble.
For someone who’s walked the Earth for nearly a century, I suppose two hours is nothing but a blink.
“Do you sleep?” I ask, realizing I didn’t ask him that when we were having our little Q&A session.
“No,” he says simply.
“Never?”
“My brain doesn’t require rest like yours does. I can lie perfectly still for hours––days, even––but my mind never shuts down.”
“That…kind of sucks,” I say, and a laugh barks out of him.
“Imagine how many books you could write if you never had to sleep,” he says.
“True,” I say, smiling. “But there would be nothing to break up the monotony. No brand new, fresh day to conquer after a good night’s sleep.”
“I never miss a sunrise. I can watch the constellations travel across the sky. Wish on every shooting star.”
“What do you wish for?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you that. If I did, it wouldn’t come true.”
“Fine,” I say, giving him a playful eye roll.
