Page 9 of I Hate Myself For Loving You (Wolf Mates #7)

I’d rather walk over an acre of broken glass using only my lips .

Lassiter smiled, pale and perfect, booping her nose with a light finger.

“You don’t have to decide right away. I have plenty to keep me busy right now.

Believe me, I got trouble and it comes in the way of another female that has nothing to do with the canine persuasion.

In fact, it might be nice to have a female around these parts who isn’t always such a pain in the ass and can’t talk back. ”

She gave a low hum of a growl in disapproval.

He ran a hand over his thick hair and chuckled.

“Her name is Avery; in case you’re wondering who I mean.

She’s got a mouth the size of Canada and a cause just as big.

She calls me a murderer. Can you believe that?

” he asked her, looking into her eyes and chucking her under the chin.

“She says I murder small animals. Me, an animal lover. If she only knew.”

Only knew what , you oversized hunk of meat loving studliness? Damn, spit it out already . What don’t I know?

He sighed, long and raspy. “I would never hurt an animal, Princess. Avery should know that by now. We knew each other when we were kids. If she’d just remember the kid I was, the one who worked at an animal shelter with her, she’d remember how much I love all creatures.”

Yes, Avery, all knowing and all seeing, clairvoyant, should just know what the fuck you mean . God, men could be such simpletons, but Avery found his words touching the fringes of her heart. Much in the way the bunny hut had.

And she didn’t like it. He was on the bad side. She was on the good. And she wasn’t going to let him blur the lines with his memories of someone who was long gone.

Stupidhead.

“We were good friends back then,” he interrupted her thoughts. “She was skinny as hell and awkward, but to me, she was perfect. She was smart and funny and kind to me when no one else was. But she isn’t skinny and awkward anymore…” Lassiter trailed off with a hitch in his voice

Avery couldn’t say in the past she’d ever heard his voice change like that when he referred to her.

Now, this strange new feeling lingered between them, and he smiled at her in the way he once had when he was her friend so long ago.

When he’d talked about where and who he’d wanted to be after high school.

“You know what, puppy? Avery and I aren’t friends anymore. No matter how I feel about her.”

Lassiter went silent then, pulling her to his side, leaving her to ponder what to do next.

Snuggle up to him and enjoy this brief argument free respite or tell him she was a liarpants and reveal herself.

* * * * *

Psst, Lassiter! Hey, cuckoo-coo-kachoo. You’re talking to a dog like it’s your therapist. That can’t be healthy . Why don’t you talk to Avery instead?

Lassiter frowned up at Bud, sitting on top of the old dresser and mentally sent him a shut up in the way they’d been communicating for years now. Via some sort of weird telepathy.

No, no, I won’t shut up. You’re talking to a dog about the person you care most about in the world instead of talking to the person you care most about in the world, dummy. Get a grip on your emotions, my man .

Yeah? Well, I talk to a bird, too.

I’m offended. I’m much smarter than a dog .

If you’re so smart, why the hell can’t you figure this out?

If I had a pair of legs, I just might. Now quit bitching and just talk to Avery. Ever since you ran into her again, you’ve been an ass .

Yeah, well Avery can do that to a guy, he shot back.

Avery was your friend once, Lassiter, and don’t give me shit about it.

I was there, numbnuts. All those nights you talked about her, all those nights when you said you wished she were just a little older.

You liked Avery, Lassiter. She liked you.

Now you won’t even talk to her. You won’t even tell her what’s really going on here.

It’s bullshit and it’s bullshit of your own making .

Lassiter sighed in resignation. Looking down at the dog, reminded himself, he was talking to a dog…

His world had narrowed to not much more than Bud and the mission to find what he was looking for these last years.

Companionship, especially of the animal variety, seemed to suit him best. If he didn’t have to do much else but feed them and throw them the occasional bone, things worked out just fine.

A pet didn’t require sharing himself or emotions, something Lassiter didn’t do easily. Except when he’d been with Avery…

He couldn’t afford to think about the old Avery versus the new one now. No matter how much he wanted her—and he wanted her.

Christ, he wanted her.

He wanted to talk to her again, like they used to. He wanted her slender body pressed to his. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened in the last ten years.

But he couldn’t. How could he tell her something like this?

Oh, please, Lassiter , Bud scoffed in his head.

That’s an easy way out for you. Hide behind me, why don’t you?

All these years you’ve been so determined to find the answer to this mess that you’ve forgotten about real, live people.

Why don’t you go get laid? Oh, wait, you did that.

Why, I had to turn my wee parakeet eyes the other way when the two of you were all over each other .

You don’t seem to have any trouble communicating then.

Bud?

What ?

Shut up.

* * *

Wait. Had Lassiter just said the words, no matter how I feel about her ?

How did he feel about her?

“So, I could certainly use one,” he went on. “A friend, that is.” Pushing off on his heels, Lassiter rose and headed back toward the kitchen, opening the fridge door.

Avery followed, hoping he’d talk to her more, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the contents of the fridge. The light from the interior shone on his face, making his skin look eerily pale, but still as handsome as he’d always been to Avery.

His complexion was a rare blend of creamy beige, mixed with a dab of color on his cheeks. His cheeks were razor sharp with dimples, deeply grooved on either side of his mouth.

She sniffed the air again. An unfamiliar, yet faintly copper smell assaulted her snout. Peering closer inside the fridge, she lifted her head and looked closer.

Um, unless she was mistaken, he had a whole lot of something that didn’t look like the drink of champions in his refrigerator.

It looked like blood .

Blood like one would find stored in a hospital blood bank.

Eek.

What in all of fetish Hell was going on?

This was freaky beyond her expectations.

He shook the plastic bag of crimson liquid and took a small orange straw from the drawer, pushing it into the bag and sipped.

Like it was a GD juice box.

But that sure as shit wasn’t Hi-C Red Raspberry Splash.

Catching Avery watching him, Lassiter grinned, his eyes glowing.

“You can smell it, can’t you, Princess? I know, you’re thinking what the Hell, right?

All creatures of the night drink blood, puppy.

” Winking, he smiled again, flashing his incisors, now long and gleaming in the dim light over the kitchen sink.

“Bloodbloodblood,” Bud screeched, flying above her head and landing on Lassiter’s broad shoulder.

Creature of the night… Like a vampire creature of the night?

Vampires do have fangs.

Of course they do, silly.

Lassiter had fangs.

Very shiny, white ones.

Only vampires drink blood.

Of course they do, silly.

Creatures of the night+fangs+blood=vampires.

Jesus Christ in a mini skirt.

Lassiter Adams was a vampire.

Holy O negative.