Page 45 of Even Vampires Bleed (Even Ever After #2)

Léandre

W hy couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?

I have no idea what propelled me to say that I knew she didn’t want to come. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t take offense and would act as if I didn’t know, to give her the benefit of the doubt.

And look, I managed to keep that to myself for three days, and considering she’s been asleep until not so long ago, it doesn’t sound like a feat at all.

It sounds like I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

It also sounds like I’m complaining a bit.

And truly, I’m not.

It was just facts. The truth. Nothing else.

But now I wonder how she will react.

Well, to start with, she seems shocked. I don’t know if it’s the shock that I knew or if she’s shocked that I dared to voice it, but she’s shocked all the same. Her mouth fell open and now her eyes are bulging out.

“You don’t have to explain,” I tell her when I finally take pity on her and break the silence my words installed.

She seems to scramble for words now as if it’s not possible for her not to explain, but once again I stop her mind from spiraling and hold my hand out to her so she finally gets up completely. We go back to the house.

I’m getting hungry, and here, no one is going to cook for us.

I’ve learned that the hard way these past three days, and I’m pretty sure tonight is going to be the same as the other days, and I’m going to make pasta or rice with whatever meat is on top of the cooler.

When Cassiopé finally grabs my hand, she doesn’t look shocked anymore, but she refuses to cross my eyes.

Oh well, we’re back to the fact she doesn’t want to spend time with me.

We walk back to the house, and that’s when I realize two things. Cassiopé doesn’t drop my hand, and I rather like it.

Scratch that, three things. She might not hate me completely if she can bear to hold my hand.

Why does that make me happy?

Why does it start making me hard?

No, no, no.

Calm down. I can’t have a hard on again. I don’t think she noticed it three days ago in the state she was in, but she’s well awake now and I can’t have that happening.

Especially not over her just holding my hand.

I was a virgin. I don’t see any other explanation for my state right now.

This is not normal behavior. I know that.

Why can’t my body obey me?

It’s not like it’s been obeying me very much lately.

I’ve woken up with the worst hard on every single day since we arrived.

It wasn’t like this when I was in Notre Dame.

Liar.

It was like this the first few days.

And then my pillows stopped smelling like her, and my sex drive died down a bit.

It sounds like I have an addiction.

I have an addiction to the sweet smell of Cassiopé.

And my body craves her as much as she dislikes me—see what I did? I’m not saying “hates” anymore.

It might not help that I have barely slept since we arrived.

Why? Because there’s only one bed.

One freaking bed.

I read books. I read romance books.

And I’m not about to turn that escape trip to save my brain into a freakish one bed trope that’s probably going to fry my brain.

So, I’ve been sleeping on the couch.

And I can tell you that fox didn’t plan this like that, because that couch isn’t made to sleep on.

I don’t know if I’m too tall for it or if the fox was just tiny, but my feet poke out at the end, and my head bends because of the armrest. I keep waking up with a kink in my neck in addition to the hard on.

Every single morning.

And it’s not even her fault. She was sleeping. She. Was. Sleeping.

And her smell still permeated the whole house and drove me crazy.

It’s still driving me crazy, but it’s worse now, because she’s touching me, and she’s completely oblivious to the turmoil inside of me.