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He might not be human, and he’s not part of my squad, but he’s willing to be my friend.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But!” I held a finger up. “I do not consent to be bitten.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “I get that the Curia Cloisters might have trained you to think that all vampires are just waiting to pounce on any unsuspecting human but allow me to say feedings are a lot more complicated than you’d think. Though if you frequently get roughed up on the job, perhaps they haven’t made you paranoid enough. I digress: stop dragging your feet, open the door, and show me your first aid kit.”

I laughed as I unlocked the door and flung it open.

“Don’tlaugh,” Connor complained as he strode in—he didn’t even look around my place, he just followed behind me. “That makes it seem like you haven’t learned your lesson.”

“You don’t need to worry, I’m tougher than you think,” I said. “Take a seat—I’ll go get my kit and change.”

Connor grumbled about “overconfident humans” under his breath before he settled down on my couch, that was positioned in front of my TV, with both his arms resting across the back of it.

I paused in the doorway of my bedroom and studied the back of his head. Connor somehow managed to still look trendy and relaxed even though he looked out of place in the commonness of my apartment.

The warm feeling in my stomach bubbled up again. I couldn’t help but smile as I shut my bedroom door and then changed into a tank top, that didn’t cover up the angry red smear of road rash on my shoulder, before slipping out of my room and heading into the bathroom.

I flicked the light on with great satisfaction—when I’d moved in the switch had been in the process of wearing out, so I put my electrician training into use and replaced it myself.

I closed the bathroom door. I didn’t want Connor to see the shelf of first aid kits—that would raise a few questions. Next, I wiped down my knee and my shoulder, grabbed a kit, and emerged.

“Here we go!” I set my first aid kit down on the coffee table with a flourish. “I’ll need antibacterial ointment for the road rash on my shoulder and some special stuff for my knee.”

Connor opened the kit and stared at the many tubes and bandages stuffed inside it. “What’s road rash?”

I selected the ointments and creams that I’d need and set them aside. “A friction burn.”

Connor read the label of the antibacterial ointment I handed him, then abruptly set it down. “Wait, do you mean to tell me your shoulder got rubbed on the road?”

Shoot, I should have called it rugburn!

“It’s a general term that just means my skin rubbed on an abrasive surface.” I stuck my right leg out in front of me—my knee looked a little bruised but it wasn’t bad. Using the cream would probably help it as much as a potion given how fast I was sure to heal.

Connor plucked the tube of cream—one of those topical pain-relieving creams that felt cold and then heated up to help muscle pain—from my hands. “You hurt your kneeandyou have road rash?”

“Yes, but that’s it,” I said. “It’s just minor injuries.”

Connor made a noise of disbelief in the back of his throat as he moved to sit on the edge of my coffee table. “I will not be fooled. I understand a rogue sniffle could make a human expire.” He patted the side of my leg and then jerked his thumb up, motioning for me to lift my leg.

“It’s not so bad as that—human medicine is way more advanced—but that does make me wonder just how old you are. Also, I can rub my knee in,” I protested, even though I lifted my leg. “It’s the shoulder I’d appreciate help with—I can’t reach there so I can’t rub it in evenly.”

Connor ignored me as he propped my leg up on his lap, then uncapped the tube. He instantly coughed. “How can you claim human medicine has improved when you want to use a cream that has such a strong scent to it, it has burnt every hair in my nose?” he asked as the astringent smell of the cream permeated my apartment.

“In that case, I’ll do it myself.” I tried to grab the tube.

“Afternoon Tea,” Connor said in a warning tone. “Sit still and stop squirming.”

I leaned back on my couch, blinking when Connor squeezed some of the cream out on his fingers and started rubbing it into my knee. Vampires ran cold, so his fingers were as cool as the cream. Despite his initial complaints about the smell, Connor worked quietly and efficiently lulling me into the danger of nostalgia.

I’d spent countless nights with my family like this, treating each other’s minor injuries.

It was another thing I missed about home: piling on couches with my brothers and cousins, sharing our pains and laughter after a fight.

I had hopes that one day my squad would accept me enough that we could joke like that, for now Connor’s kindness and gentle hand was enough to almost make me cry.

“Thank you,” I abruptly said, my voice thick with everything I couldn’t say.

Connor glanced up at me, his red eyes tracing my face. “Of course.”