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Collin began rooting around for materials that we could fashion into a bed. I secured the door with an ax handle, then started searching through the pantry contents.
“This feels really wrong,” I told him as he shaped a pile of empty feedsacks into a makeshift bed. “As if we’re haunting this poor man’s basement.”
I cracked the wax seal of one of the jars and carefully picked out a few slices of fruit from the fragrant liquid with my fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“In the name of not starving, I am appropriating this jar of spiced peaches. Consider it the sweet course after the tomato entrée. My concerns about thievery decrease in proportion to my concerns about low blood sugar and dry heaves. Also, this stuff is fricking delicious.”
He was watching me scooping the delicious, pulpy fruit from the jar and sucking the juice from my fingers. I cringed, knowing that this must be sending his OCD into overdrive.
“Sorry. I’m being rude. What about your blood?” I asked. “It went down with the ship, so to speak. Aren’t you hungry?”
“I should be all right for a few more hours.”
“And then we’re going to have to find some willing donor?” I asked. “Or some synthetic?”
“Unless you’re offering.”
Now, normally, I would consider it pretty damn rude to devour half a jar of spiced fruit in front of a starving man without offering him a meal. But I was still a little sore about the events of the evening. And I’d never served as a vampire meal before. So I was going to have to sleep on it.
I stripped out of my wet jacket and did my best to comb through my damp hair with my fingers. I checked my watch. We had at least another hour before sunrise, but it was good that we were settling in for the night. Day. Whatever. When I looked up, Collin was stepping out of his pressed gray trousers.
“What are you doing?” I whisper-hissed, careful not to make too much noise and wake up our host upstairs. He folded the trousers carefully, the light of the camping lamp reflecting off his pale skin. His extremely pinchable butt was beautifully draped by black boxer briefs. I shielded my eyes with my hand, as if the sight were offensive.
“I usually sleep naked.”
“Every time you get out of the cubby, you’re wearing a suit. Nice try.”
He smirked. “It was worth a shot.”
“Keep the boxers on,” I warned him. “If your next line is that you want to share body heat, I’m not above smacking you while you sleep.” Against the sliver of lamplight, I saw his lips quirk.
“Why did you have to choose tonight to develop a sense of humor?” I grumbled as I lay down on the feedsack bed. It was surprisingly comfortable, a little like sleeping on a giant buckwheat pillow. Collin settled in beside me, on his side, smiling at me.
I turned away from him, content to let him stare at my back.
“Good night, Miranda,” he said, touching my shoulder gently.
“Good night,” I mumbled, snuggling deeper into the feedsack as he clicked the lamp switch.
In the dark, I listened to the house settling over us and finally processed the fact that I was utterly and completely fucked. My stomach felt as if it was turning inside out. I didn’t love Jason anymore, but I was entitled to a few tears. I was humiliated and sick, thinking of all of the lies I’d believed, all of the concessions I’d made. I’d let too much of myself go to please Jason. If anything, my time on the road had shown me how much more comfortable I was in my own skin when I was my unkempt, uncouth self.
I was confused, but it was the good kind of confused. Yes, I was a mess, out here on my own. But at least I was having fun—or what passed for fun when I wasn’t murdering innocent vehicles. I didn’t want normal. I didn’t want predictable. I didn’t want the life Jason and I were going to build together. How stupid was it that I’d made so much effort to create a life that I didn’t want?
I was baffled by possibilities, the right and wrong of them. I was excited about the choices ahead of me. And it felt as if no matter what I did, it would be better than going back to Jason.
Still, listening to the mating call of the Not So Platonic Friends had singed my pride.
And I was going to be fired. Again. There was no way Iris would forgive this. Even if Collin had been driving, Iris couldn’t keep someone on if she’d lost an entire car on her first assignment. It set a bad precedent. But I liked the job. That was the bitch of it. I liked the challenge of getting from point A to point B. I liked the daily race to meet my mileage goal, even if I missed it. I liked being able to stop and take pictures of whatever caught my eye, just for the hell of it.
I’d finally found something I truly enjoyed, and I was going to be fired before I really got started. At least at the other jobs, I’d had a few months before my spectacular failures.
Warm tears dripped down my cheeks. I held my breath, willing the oxygen to slip quietly in and out of my nose so Collin wouldn’t hear me sniffle. As angry as I was, I knew that he couldn’t grasp what he’d done in the name of helping me. He was sincere in his apology, and he felt bad—as much as he was capable of feeling guilty. I didn’t want to make him feel worse.
I pressed my hands into my eyes, my shoulders shaking with the effort to stay quiet. Two cool hands slid around my wrists, pulling them away from my face. Collin wrapped his arm around me, pulling me to his chest. I pressed my face into the curve of his neck, feeling my tears form a seal between my skin and his. He rubbed his hands over my back, fingertips dancing along my spine as I cried it out. Soft shushing noises were the only sound in the dark little room.
In the dark, I traced my fingers over the proud line of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. He bent to kiss me, cool lips sliding against my warmth. He tasted clean, of mint and spice. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was falling through the black space of the room, and Collin was the only thing holding me to reality.
