Page 27 of Bleed the Shadows

“Yeah well, have fun with that,” I said, turning for the door to the loft.

“Hold up,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”

I wrapped my arms around my body in a vain attempt to stave off the cold air. I’d felt the dropping temperatures during my runs at the track after work, had noticed the leaves turning gold, but winter had still seemed a long ways off. Now I could feel that it was right around the corner.

Another winter — another Christmas — without June.

Poe stood and I forced myself not to look at his dick again. A girl had to have some kind of dignity.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, pulling on his sweatpants (what was it with these guys and their aversion to underwear?).

I nodded. There was no point mentioning the conversation I’d heard coming from Bram’s room. I hadn’t heard enough to tell me anything new, and I already knew they wouldn’t tell me anything unless they wanted to.

“Good.”

My gaze was glued to his flexing biceps and contracting pecs as he pulled on his sweatshirt.

Down, girl. On second thought, rawr. Go after everything you want, M.

Be quiet, June.

The last thing I needed was June egging me on. It was already hard enough to resist Poe.

He opened the door to the living area and gestured me inside, and I stepped into the warmth of the loft with relief.

My stomach rumbled and Poe looked my way. “Hungry?”

“Starving. Who’s making breakfast, you or me?” I still wasn’t sure about our arrangement this time around.

“You know what?” Poe asked, looking down at me. “Let’s get donuts instead.”

“Donuts?”

“We need to celebrate that you’re back,” he said. “Plus it’ll annoy the fuck out of Remy.”

21

MAEVE

Everything in Blackwellwas off Main Street so we decided to walk. The sun had started to break through the clouds but I still shivered in my sweatshirt.

“You’re cold.” Poe stopped walking and pulled off his sweatshirt.

“I’m fine. It’s… fine.” The protest died on my lips. He was already pulling his sweatshirt over my head.

“Can’t have you cold, little bird.”

It was the first time he’d used the nickname since I’d been back, and I hated how warm and fuzzy it made me feel inside.

“How are your grandparents?” I asked as we made our way up Main.

“They’re good,” he said.

“And Whit?”

His expression darkened. “He’s better. For now. Thanks for asking.”

"Aren’t we going to Debbie’s?” I asked when he stopped at a light that would take us deeper into Southside.