Page 16 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

My phone pings again. Then again.

“Who is that?” She reaches over and snatches the phone before I can grab it. “Who is Baspin?”

“No one.” I yank off my pants and add them to the pile.

“Bran.”

I cross the room and pull a black t-shirt from one of the velvet hangers. The hanger swings on the rod, then clunks against the wall.

“Bran.”

“He’s the fae who dumped me in the park.” I pull the shirt over my head, then rake my hand through my hair, straightening it.

“Why is he texting you?” She reads one of the notifications. “‘You need my help, vampire. Here’s a fact: fae can’t lie even over text. So if I say you need my help, you know that’s the truth.’”

I can feel Jimmy’s eyes on me, even though I’ve given her my back as I flip through several pairs of jeans.

“If a fae is offering to help you, why are you ignoring him?”

I pull down a pair of dark jeans. “Did you miss the part where I said he dumped me in the park? In the daylight?”

I can practically sense Jimmy frowning at me. “You’re leaving out one important detail. He gave you a tarp. And your phone.”

I scoff. “Can no one keep a secret in this fucking house?”

Deftly, she hops off the counter and comes to my side, my phone still in her grip. “If the fae are offering to help, you should take the offering.”

Pants buttoned, I reach for my phone but she holds it out of reach like we’re two little shits playing a game of finders keepers.

“Jimmy.”

“Take the home advantage.”

“This isn’t a game of baseball.”

“No, it’s a game for Jessie’s life.”

I grit my teeth. The reminder is like ice in my veins. My stomach sinks.

“I know what the fucking stakes are.”

“Do you?”

The phone dings.

I reach for it. Jimmy stretches further away.

“Careful, Jim,” I tell her, my voice even, but my eyes bleeding to gold.

Even though I am implying I will hurt her if she gets in my way, she and I both know I won’t.

She steps back from me and types in my phone’s password. I grumble and yank on boots. “You’re fucking intolerable.”

“There. Fixed it. He’s on his way,” she tells me. “And you’ll hear him out.”

“Or what?”

The smile she gives me could melt iron. “Or I will burn down your French chateau.”