“You’re upset.” Gray’s voice sneaks into my quietness, bringing me back to the basement and the sound of the washer starting. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to tell me anything.”
I turn to face him, struck again by his otherness and beauty. Something tells me he broke a lot of hearts in the past. He has that kind of face. Smooth skin, sharp jaw, and a pair of lips crafted by the devil’s hands. I know I kissed him, but I can’t remember how it felt. If it was a kiss, or even a full replay of the early morning that he was offering, I think I would take it. I might have forgotten once, but there isn’t a single thing that could make me forget the image of those sinful lips parting as he licked his fingers clean of my sex.
“A little.” I drop my eyes to my bare feet. I kicked the heels off after our kitchen discourse. Now, my toes peeked out from the fishnets, black polish shining under the basement lights. “But it’s all good now. Splitting up was probably the best thing for the both of us. She’s happy, and I’m happy.”
Gray looks like he wants to say something, but stops himself.
“Anyway,” I say, changing the subject, “we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. You have tons to catch up on.”
Gliding past him, I head back upstairs. We pass through the kitchen and move into the living room again. I take the couch and grab a blanket to cover myself. Gray sits at the opposite end, leaning onto the other side, head rested against his fist. Earlier, after our tête-à-tête, I asked him what he wanted to learn about first. He referenced the books on my floor and asked what they were about. Embarrassed, I told him they were books about vampires, but I conveniently left out that they were mostly romances.
He seemed interested, though, so I leaned into it.
Once I’m comfortable, I turn on the TV with a short explanation of what it is and walk him through the streaming services. I can’t read his expression to get a pulse on whether or not he understands what I’m saying, so I plug onward. Teaching isn’t really my forte, but I like to think that if it was anyone else, they wouldn’t have gotten this far—living or teaching otherwise.
Fake it till you make it, I tell myself.
After a minute of silence post selection, the first episode ofTrue Bloodstarts up. It was one of my comfort shows in high school, albeit I shouldn’t have been watching it at all in my early teens. I blame it on the friend who introduced me to it in the first place. She was the first girlfriend I ever had, and consequently, her brother was the first boyfriend I ever had. Both times, and on different occasions, we hooked up while the show played on in the background.
In hindsight, maybe not the best choice of media with a hot vampire sitting directly across from me, but it’s far too late to change my mind now. Not without explaining the ‘why,’ and if I’m honest, I’ve opened up enough to him in the last twenty-four hours. Physically and emotionally. He really doesn’t need me to trauma dump on him for hours on end.
Every once in a while as the episode rolls on, I glance back at Gray. He looks focused, engrossed in the show much more now that there are actual vampires showing up.
“Thoughts?” I ask, curious to know his opinion. Considering there are a thousand other titles that would be more helpful to him right now, it feels silly to be watching this. Still, I feel like part of it is for me, too.
“Honestly?” Gray shifts his position, spreading his long legs out in front of him, and crosses his arms. “Not terrible. The teeth, though? Not my favorite.”
“What do you mean?”
Gray’s head swivels, and he opens his mouth to reveal his fangs. He points at them. “The canines.”
I look back at the TV for a minute and immediately catch onto what he’s trying to say. “Oh, yeah. I guess that’s… odd.”
“I’ve never seen one of my kind with a bite so… little,” he adds.
“You’ve met a lot of vampires, then?” Asking it aloud makes me wonder how many there really are in the world. The show makes it so obvious that the vampire population is widespread. Gray is my first, so it isn’t like they’re running stores or leading normal lives without sticking heavily to the shadows.
“Met? I’vedatedmore than my fair share of them. They’re everywhere.” He doesn’t sound too happy about that. In fact, there’s a note of bitterness in his tone that is more familiar than I care to admit. Based on his expression, I attempt to steer the conversation back to the show.
“So the teeth, huh?” I ask.
He sucks on his bottom lip thoughtfully, then says, “It’s making me hungry.”
“Hungry?” I feel instantly dumb for asking.
“The blood.” Gray bobs his head toward the TV. Bill, my favorite southern gentleman, is licking up Sookie’s wounds. She’s covered in blood.
“Oh! I’m sorry… I can turn on something else.”
“No.” He flexes his hands out in front of him and then runs one over his face. “Just… it’s fine. I’m fine.”
I feel myself flush. “How… how often do you need to…?”
“Feed?” he asks, finishing my question for me. “At the moment, more than I care to admit. But don’t worry, I won’t be feeding on you anytime soon.”
“Why?” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
“Because,” he starts with a shrug, “you serve a higher purpose.”
