Page 14

While I pulled out some plates from the cupboard, Viggo pulled out the takeout containers from the bags then opened them up, and arranged them in order on the counter.

It took me longer to do than it should have because I was too busy checking out his muscular ass in his jeans. Not to mention, the fitted black knit sweater he wore made his broad chest look ridiculously wide.

Yes, he was sexy in his Stockholm Academy uniform, but in his French-inspired street clothes he was mouth-watering, in an I'm going to eat you sort of way, and it made me realize that I was in trouble, and not in the usual ways.

"I am still irritated at you," Viggo said, motioning for me to help myself, startling me.

"For what?" I asked with a smile.

Viggo glared at me. "I was not on the menu!" he snapped at me. "Consent goes both ways."

I pouted my bottom lip out and batted my lashes.

"Truly devious to use a pouting bottom lip and batting lashes, but you are not keeping my cape and I am still contemplating pressing charges for-"

"Taste testing without consent?" I teased before wagging my brows.

Viggo glared at me. "You are not amusing in the least," he scolded, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fought to hide his amusement. "Is something wrong other than your vexed vampyre dinner company?" he asked. "I got everything you wanted, yes?"

I nodded. "You did. I was checking out your ass," I blurted out then cringed. "Sorry."

He blushed but didn't press it.

I dished myself up some food, a little bit of everything, and he followed my lead, then joined me and we ate at the eating bar.

We ate in relative silence.

I was starving, and Viggo kept looking at me from the corner of his eye as I scooped food in my mouth at an alarming rate.

Most likely he was questioning his sanity for this impromptu date that was anything but a date, especially after being attacked by an insane female who bit him as if she was a vampire and he now has a bruise on his neck that matched up to her teeth, and not to mention, the lack of table manners was beyond bad because I was literally using my fingers to eat with at times.

"Thanks," I eventually said as I washed my hands and plate before filling it up with more food.

"It is not thankworthy. Do you have obsessive-compulsive disorder?" Viggo asked.

I looked at him as I shoved a chicken cutlet in my mouth before spooning some of the lemon sauce directly into my mouth.

"That is not how you eat chicken piccata," Viggo scolded. "And I was referring to the plate," he explained.

"I know, but I'm starving," I said, talking with my mouth full. "Everyone has little things that irritate them. One of mine is food on a dirty plate. I like the whole buffet premise, getting a new plate each trip. Harper and Slevin complain about the excessive dishes though so I wash as I go."

Viggo nodded his understanding.

"And why am I eating like a savage? I don't get pasta often because it's mainly carbohydrates, and not protein-heavy," I said, reclaiming my seat next to him with a plate full of food. "The insane number of calories I burn a day require a protein-rich, and roughage heavy to support it so as not to get constipated, diet. Not the awkward dinner conversation you were hoping for, is it?" I teased.

Viggo shrugged, refilling his plate. "All conversation with you is awkward on some level for any number of reasons, but I welcome each regardless of the level of awkwardness it is for me," he said.

That made no sense.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're weird?" I asked, talking with my mouth full.

Viggo nodded. "This coming from the girl that attacked and bit me? That was running around the living room saying she was Batman in a deep, gravelly voice?" he asked.

I smiled wide; I had to do something while he grumbled and complained about me biting him under his breath.

"I heard that many times growing up," he admitted. "And my roommate in Stockholm said it often, though he was easy to ignore most of the time. The two of you did not have that in common, but you did have in common running around and jumping off of furniture pretending to be Batman with a Stockholm uniform cape. You did it with clothes on, he was usually only wearing underwear, if I were lucky."

I giggled.

"I will admit, it has been some time since I have been called weird and have not been offended by it though. You look well rested. How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly well rested, even after I just had another of those weird nightmares," I admitted.

With the mention of the nightmare, Viggo put his fork down and he looked at me.

"Did you want to talk about it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Not really. It made no sense, and it felt weird and off. Something was off about it, but a different kind of off, not the kind of off that you are."

Viggo gave me a look. "Something is off about me?" he asked.

Most would have taken offense to that, but Viggo didn't appear irritated about my feelings toward him...

Truth was, it was only one of many feelings that I was having towards him for some reason, but none of which I had a name for other than weird.

Since Viggo apparently wasn't going to finish it, I took the other half of the Arancini from his plate and then shoved it in my mouth, chewing with a smile.

Viggo gave me a look. "That will not distract me from discussing the weird feelings you have in regards to me," he warned.

"Weird feeling from you," I mumbled with my mouth full, though I did have weird feelings for him. "And most guys would find it sexy to have a girl shove their balls in her mouth," I informed him. "Well, in this case, half of a singular ball of yours, but the innuendo is the same."

His beautiful green eyes widened, and his mouth fell open with a soft popping sound that made me roar with laughter, falling forward off of my stool, but Viggo quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me back and into him to keep me from hitting the floor.

"That is what you get for being a pervert," he scolded.

"Oh yes, this is a deterrent for being perverted like one of the guys," I said, leaning into him then took his fork and helped myself to what was left of the pasta on his plate.

Viggo blushed but did not attempt to push me away from him or to finish his dinner that I stole.

"This dream I wouldn't say was a nightmare, even if nightmarish stuff was happening in it," I said between bites. "It was funny actually, well, I thought it was. What made it weirder than usual this time was that I was in it, consciously in it but it wasn't me... That's a common theme, but this time she, I, Evil Ari I guess, wasn't putting up with the King's shit. And he didn't expect that, then she busted out with some hard-core magic, I don't even think demonic intervention diablery would fall into the category of what she was doing, and I think that's what woke me up... That, and somehow, I was, she was I mean, materializing weapons from the ashy remains and soul fragments of those she stole the darkened souls from. Is that even possible?" I asked.

It sounded completely insane.

Viggo swallowed hard, his eyes moving over my face many times. "How long have you been having these kinds of dreams or nightmares?" he asked in a soft tone that stole my attention.

"They started around the age of fourteen, that I remember," I offered. "I don't always remember them though. Sometimes they are just bloody wars, and other times they are weird and procedural crap like the one I just had... At least it started as procedural but she wasn't having it this time, and instead entertained herself with killing those of Devilry. The ending of this one, I don't think that was what he was longing for and that snapped me out of it."

The look on Viggo's face made it more than obvious that I sounded completely insane.

"What was the ending?" he eventually asked.

"Choked him out and somehow started to burn him from the inside out!" I beamed with a giggle, causing him to chuckle.

"You have so many issues I still do not know where to begin," he said with a soft smile, caressing a loose lock of hair back from my cheek for me.

"The prevailing opinion is to get out while you still can," I said ominously.

Viggo's eyes moved over my face many times before he smiled. "I would never," he promised me, and I whimpered.