I huff a laugh. “That man has never missed a chance to be a pain in the ass. I’ll write you a note if you need one. But I think he’s just being dramatic. Everyone knows about the Rift, so there’s no way they will have a problem with you missing a few classes.”
Am I talking a lot? I feel like I’m talking a lot.
Amara doesn’t seem to think so because she simply wipes her apple on her sweatshirt.
“Right?” She takes another bite. “Classes are fine. Same old.”
“Thanks for the detailed report,” I say dryly.
She snorts. “You’re welcome, Sheriff.” She pushes off the counter and grabs her jacket from the chair. “I’m heading out.”
“Yeah?” I keep my voice even, casual.
“I’m going to see Caroline. She’s probably doing worse than me. She hasn’t even answered any of my texts.”
There it is.
The name hits me low, like stepping wrong on uneven ground. My chest tightens, breath hitching before I can stop it. I turn my mug in my hands, watching the coffee ripple.
“Oh,” I say. “Okay. I hope she’s okay.”
I actually mean that. I had to ask Oscar Dune to get me the aftercare tea in exchange for me not arresting him for the love portions.
Okay… I blackmailed him. I had to.
I see Caroline in heat one time, and suddenly all my morals are out the window. I can’t even think straight.
I should never have touched her. I should never have fucked her. I should never have gotten involved.
Amara shoves me, and that’s when I realize she was talking, and I completely zoned out and missed it.
“Sorry. What did you say?”
She pauses, keys in hand, studying me. “You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” she insists. “You’ve been weird all morning.”
“No, I haven’t,” I say, a little too fast.
Her eyes narrow. “Did something happen?”
“Nope. Just work. Simon. Work. I told you.”
She hums, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
I stare into my coffee like it might offer answers. “Tell Caroline I said hi.”
That earns me a look. Not unkind, just knowing. “I will.” She heads for the door, then glances back. “Get some sleep, Damon. You should definitely take a nap before you head to the station.”
“I will.”
The door closes behind her, the sound too final in the too-big kitchen.
I let out a long breath and brace my hands on the counter. My reflection in the window looks older than it did a week ago. Tired. Frayed at the edges. A fucking mess.
I fucked up.
