Page 11 of Threads of Crimson

“I didn’t even know you knew my name,” I blurted. Good grief. Way to play it cool, Benji, I admonished myself.

Lysandro’s lips tilted up at the corners, and holy hell was that hot. “I make it my business to know all the frequent flyers.”

Well, I guessed that made sense. “Then how come you’ve never… you know?” I asked.

He tilted his head. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve had plenty of eager customers accepting your offering.”

Crappity, crap, crap. I’d always made sure never to donate on a night Lysandro came in, but then after years, he’d suddenly started appearing more regularly. More than once, he’d come in while someone else’s teeth were sunk into my veins, their lips suctioned to my flesh. It wasn’t like I could jump up and leave them, so I’d hoped that he hadn’t noticed.

His lips twitched again, like he was amused by me. “I’m assuming anyway…since you’re still coming in.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m not really, you know, doing that as much now, though.”

He arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Really?”

I nodded my head eagerly. “Yeah. I mean, the vampires are generous with their tips, so I was able to save up quite a nest egg.” I gestured toward the bar. “But Rafe, you know him, right?”

He inclined his head once in acknowledgment.

“Well, he’s become a good friend. Him and his sister,” I continued as Sadie joined her brother. “So I like to hang out with them.”

“Hmm. So you have no other friends?”

He didn’t sound judgmental, merely curious.

I shrugged. “It’s weird now, you know? Like I have a couple of roommates, and they’re cool and all, but they don’t know about the supernatural, so it’s hard to talk to them. Of course, I’m still friends with Eric. Do you know Eric? He’s the one who first brought me here.”

Lysandro frowned so minutely that I might’ve been imagining it. “I do.”

“Yeah, so we talk some, but he’s got a vam, uh, boyfriend now, so he’s not as available.”

“Hmm.”

When he didn’t say anything beyond that, I said, “So I wanted to thank you for uh, helping me out with that uh, situation with Mr. Moreaux.”

He sniffed, flicking his hand dismissively. “I don’t like men who don’t understand when they’re being pests. He’s been alive long enough to know better.”

Curious, I eyed him suspiciously. “But how’d you know?”

He tilted his head like he didn’t understand the question.

“We were over at the bar, and you were over here. How did you know that I was trying to blow him off?”

“Benji, surely you realize by now that my kind have excellent hearing.”

“Well, yeah, but…” I gazed around at the packed club. “It wasn’t as busy that night, but it was still noisy.”

“Ah.” Lysandro leaned toward me. “I can zero in on any conversation I want.”

“Wow,” I murmured. “That’s so cool.”

He sat back in his chair. “Indeed.”

Nervous as hell, but determined, I pinched my thighs and said, “So, um, to thank you, I’d like to donate my blood. To you. Tonight, I mean.”

His gaze raked over my face, down across my chest, then he stared into my eyes. “That isn’t necessary. A thank you suffices.”

Oh hell to the no. I wasn’t blowing my shot now that I’d finally worked up the nerve to approach him. Scooting to the edge of my seat, I flopped my arm up onto the table with my wrist exposed. “It’s not just a thank you.” I licked my lips. “It would, uh, be an honor to supply your monthly sustenance.”