Page 2 of Messy AF (At First #3)

two

~ Warren ~

I pulled into Tobias’ driveway and parked beside a midnight-blue sedan, just as the sun kissed the horizon in the west.

Normally, I wouldn’t have accepted a job so quickly, especially an ongoing one, but after reading the details, I hadn’t hesitated. The guy had really been going through it, and his situation presented legitimate safety concerns.

While professionally worded, there had been an undertone of desperation in his request that couldn’t be ignored.

Exiting my SUV, I left my suitcase and other personal items in the back as I followed the walkway to the porch steps. While he had already signed the contract, he still had the option to back out, and I didn’t want him to feel pressured into a choice that made him uncomfortable.

Located near Bliss Lake, the small cottage appeared well maintained with a manicured lawn and a cozy front stoop just wide enough for a rocking chair.

Painted in a cheerful shade of yellow and decorated with planters of bright flowers, it stood apart from the other cookie-cutter houses on the street.

It felt welcoming, inviting, and I grinned at the wreath of wildflowers that adorned the front door.

The sun reflected off the windowpanes, painting the glass in shades of orange and pink like enchanted flames. I had always loved sunsets, that transition period between day and night, and this happened to be a particularly beautiful one.

Despite the myths popularized by books and movies, vampires didn’t burst into flames or crisp up like bacon in the sunlight. We just happened to be a little more sensitive to the rays, but nothing sunscreen and a good pair of sunglasses couldn’t combat.

We weren’t dead. We didn’t need an invitation to enter a private residence. Garlic, holy water, and crosses wouldn’t repel us.

And we damn sure didn’t procreate through a bite.

It would be laughable if it wasn’t so insulting. We had about as much ability to change mortals into one of us as we did to turn ourselves into teakettles.

To be fair, pop culture did get a lot of things right.

Vampires needed a steady diet of blood, but we could, and did, eat a variety of other foods.

We moved at lightning speeds and could bench press a Buick if the situation called for it.

Our sense of smell rivaled that of werewolves, and we didn’t die from old age.

Though immune to illness and able to heal rapidly from most injuries, we could still be killed. And many had been, back in the dark days before shadelings had been accepted into the mainstream.

Yet, nearly a century later, despite all the laws and protections, the myths still persisted.

Adopting a casual smile, I pressed the doorbell, then took a step back to look up into the security camera mounted over the frame, providing a clear view of my face. A moment later, I heard shuffling—slow, heavy—and the distinct clicks and grinds of locks being disengaged.

The door opened, and I tensed when a male of average height and build with tousled brown hair and tawny doe eyes stepped up to the threshold.

A thin Henley draped loosely around his lean frame, the cream color complementing the golden undertones in his complexion. Black lounge pants billowed around his legs, the hems brushing the tops of his bare feet, the cotton barely clinging to his narrow hips.

He had the most striking yet contradictory features. Angular but petite. Dark, but somehow soft.

And the most alluring fragrance I had ever encountered wafted off him, saturating the small porch and filling my head. Crisp and clean, it reminded me of sun-drenched laundry, made imperfect only by a tinge of uncertainty.

Our eyes locked, the moment stretching out into what felt like eternity, but in reality, no more than a second or two had passed since he’d opened the door. Pushing aside the unfamiliar feelings that swelled inside me, I stepped forward and offered my hand.

“You must be Tobias. I’m Warren Frost.”

“Please, call me Tobi,” he responded, smiling in a way that transformed the sharp lines of his face into something truly angelic. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The skin on my palm instantly warmed, and a tingling sensation spread up my arm when he took my outstretched hand. Judging by his quiet gasp and how quickly he ended the contact, he had clearly felt it as well.

Probably just static electricity.

His gaze scanned the area around my feet with a creased brow, presumably wondering why I hadn’t arrived with so much as an overnight bag. He didn’t say anything, though, and the expression cleared as he took a step away from the doorframe to wave me inside.

“Please, come in.”

The inside of the cottage appeared just as welcoming as the outside, decorated in shades of ash gray and sage green, with accents of deep teal. A large L-shaped sectional took up most of the living room, the sofa situated in front of a massive flatscreen television.

That alluring scent from the porch was stronger here, more concentrated, drowning out everything else in the space. I inhaled deeply, shivering involuntarily as it filled my senses, but I kept a neutral expression while I waited for him to close the door behind me.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Wringing his hands together, Tobi came closer but stopped well outside my personal space.

“I’m good, but thank you.”

“Okay.” The refusal seemed to have short-circuited something because it took him a moment to decide what to say next. “Um, we could sit?” The way his voice lilted at the end made it sound like a question, which was kind of cute. “Here.” He motioned toward the sectional. “Or, um, in the kitchen.”

I wanted to tell him to relax, but though the words played on the tip of my tongue, I held them back. It was one of those things people said with good intentions, but no person in history had been soothed by the statement.

“Here is fine,” I answered instead, moving over to settle down on the end of the sofa.

He exhaled, his shoulders finally relaxing. A smile whispered over his lips, and he bobbed his head as he came to join me. Halfway across the living room, however, he stumbled, his legs giving way for seemingly no reason.

Moving at my natural speed, I reached him in less than a heartbeat, sliding an arm around his waist to keep him upright. A wave of heat immediately assaulted me, making my heart stutter and my muscles flex, but I pushed the reaction away to focus on Tobi.

“Okay?”

His cheeks tinted with embarrassment, but he nodded. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered to where I’d been sitting. “You’re really fast.”

True, and while I didn’t intentionally hide it, I had learned long ago that my supernatural speed tended to freak out humans. As such, I normally made an effort to move at their pace when in their company.

“Perks of being a vampire,” I teased as I helped him over to the sectional. “You mentioned something about muscle weakness in your request form. Is this what you meant?”

“Yes, but I think it’s getting better.” Tobi curled up in the corner of the sectional and pulled his knees to his chest. “It doesn’t happen as often anymore.”

My gut told me that wasn’t true, and furthermore, he probably didn’t even believe it himself. In my experience, side effects from sleeping potions didn’t fade gradually over time. They hit hard, lingered, then just vanished.

Still, if the little lie gave him comfort, I didn’t want to take that away from him.

I resumed my seat, leaving a cushion of space between us, and angled to face him. “Is it just in your legs?”

“Mostly, but sometimes, it happens in my arms and hands.”

“Dizziness?”

He dipped his head.

“Nausea?”

“A little, but it’s not bad, and kind of sporadic.”

“Passing out randomly?”

“Yes, but not like fainting. It’s more like—”

“Falling asleep suddenly and without control?”

That shy smile returned, and he dipped his head again. “Exactly.”

I mirrored his nod. Although inconvenient and frustrating, his symptoms sounded pretty standard. On their own, they wouldn’t hurt him. Instead, the danger exist in the unpredictability of the attacks, leading to falls at the wrong time or in the wrong place.

Judging by the fading bruise on his cheek and the abrasion near his hairline, that had already happened more than once.

“So, what can I do to help?” I asked.

Head bent, hands clutched together in his lap, he stayed quiet for a long time, but I didn’t interrupt or prompt him. He had been thorough about his expectations in his request form, but I wanted to hear it from him without the formal polish.

Eventually, he took a deep breath and lifted his head to meet my gaze. “Well, I mostly need someone here to make sure I don’t set the house on fire, or maybe call an ambulance if I accidentally break myself.”

I wondered if he realized he had just asked for the bare minimum. From the guilty look on his face, likely not.

“Okay, what else?”

“Maybe cooking?” He sank back into the cushions and bit his bottom lip. “I have a housekeeper who comes once a month, and I can manage picking up after myself,” he hurried to add. “Um, checking the mail hasn’t gone so well in the past. You don’t even have to stay overnight if that’s too much.”

Every word out of his mouth—coupled with a tone that suggested he considered his needs too selfish—broke my fucking heart. He was clearly struggling, barely holding it together, and at actual risk of serious injury, and he still worried he hadn’t met some imaginary threshold that warranted help.

“Do you sleepwalk?”

His eyes rounded, and his mouth dropped open into a little O. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

“If you’re comfortable with me staying here, I think it would be better if you had someone with you around the clock until the effects wear off.”

“Yes, of course. That’s fine.” The words rushed out, tumbling over one another, and he sat up, leaning toward me. “I have a guestroom with a private ensuite. I promise I won’t bother you unless—”

“You can bother me for anything. Even if it’s just to bring you a glass of water.” I quirked one side of my mouth into a smile and gentled my voice. “That’s why I’m here. Got it?”

Gods, he looked so sweet when he smiled, and the uncertainty that tainted his fresh scent faded just a little.

“Got it. Thank you.”

“So, do we have a deal?”

He took another deep breath and let it out in a rush before shoving his hand toward me. “Deal.”

I hesitated briefly, a subtle pause he wouldn’t have noticed. Though braced this time, I still tensed as a wave of crackling heat rushed up my arm from the contact.

I believed in fate to a certain degree, but I also subscribed to the idea that everyone walked their own path, made their own choices. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think that his request landing in my inbox had been no accident or coincidence.

I didn’t know why or how, but instinct told me I had been led here for a reason. To this moment. To this person.

And instead of questioning it, I had the strangest conviction that I was exactly where I was meant to be.