she’d left without a word, running scared. Twenty-four hours during which she’d done nothing but think about him and replay his confession over and over again… “I love you, Giselle.” And while it made her sick at how those simple words sent flutters through her belly, she could finally admit that she loved him back. Hell, since the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she was in love with his smart mouth and sexy-as-sin ass. But knowing it and admitting it out loud, especially to him, were two totally different things.
She loved him but she didn’t deserve him, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Soul-searching hadn’t helped. That ended up being a vicious cycle of acceptance, then confusion, then anger. She was getting dizzy trying to deny what they were but wanting it all the same. Convincing herself why it may work, then justifying her spineless decision to cut out on him.
Still, without answers, all she knew was she missed him terribly and desperately needed to see him again. But when she finally drummed up the courage to face him, the bastard was nowhere to be found.
She hadn’t heard from him since she’d slunk out like the coward she was. He didn’t call. He hadn’t texted. He’d been radio silent. At first, she couldn’t quite decide if that thrilled her or angered her. But as the hours passed, it was pretty clear which emotion she was feeding from.
Her slow burn had turned into a raging boil.
So here she sat, stalking Mike fucking Thatcher like a goddamned idiot. And by stalking, what she really meant was crazy-ass, balls-to-the-wall, nonstop hounding. If she were human, she’d probably be in jail by now. Phone calls, text messages, pacing the length of his porch waiting for his home to show any signs of life. But he was just gone, so in addition to getting worried, she was now a volcano of ugly pissiness ready to blow.
He’d begged her to stay. Demanded it, actually. Fingered her until she melted under him. Why, then, was he now avoiding her? Maybe the endorphins from the orgasm they’d both pumped him to while she drank down his lifeblood loosened his tongue and lips and he hadn’t meant what he’d said. Maybe he realized he’d been wasting his time. That she wasn’t worth it. That she was too damaged to invest any more effort into.
Maybe he was finally done with her. That thought sat hard and hated in the pit of her stomach.
Hearing a noise, she looked up to find Ren padding into the darkened room.
“Hey, baby girl,” he greeted, pulling a bowl of fruit out of the fridge.
Dev’s security detail, which included Ren, Manny, Thane, and herself, lived at the mansion with Dev. Manny and Thane were close and shared the same wing of the house, but both Ren and Giselle had their own private quarters. Over the years, she’d become used to living with “roommates.” Most of the time, it was convenient. Except when it wasn’t. Like now.
Taking another drink, she relished the slow burn all the way to her stomach. “Why do you insist on calling me that?” she growled, needing to take her anger out on someone. Besides Ren, she would sooner cut out someone’s tongue before allowing them to use an endearment with her.
Except Mike. I let him call me baby all the time.
Shut up dammit!
“Because it riles you up.” The smooth smile that lit his face was brilliant. Ren was one of the best-looking males she had ever met, but she’d never been attracted to him as a female should. He was more like the brother she should have had. Ren and Dev, they were her family. Had been ever since Dev saved her.
“You feed recently?” Ren asked.
Yet another secret of hers that Ren held tight to.
Using Mike the way she had was something she hadn’t done since the day she was fully blooded.
In dire situations, vampires fed from bagged blood, but that was like tofu. It was empty, unsatisfying, barely nutritional. Vampires really needed a live host to thrive. Males fed from female humans and