Page 17 of The Vampire's Werewolf Bodyguard
Simon
Simon’s worries burn away with Cody’s touch. The kiss is a relief. A spark. Wonderfully wrong and terribly right. Simon grasps Cody’s thin t-shirt, straining the fabric with the force of his grip, and kisses back.
Cody’s hands settle at Simon’s waist, tugging him closer. Body heat surrounds him, as heady as the memory of blood. The music fades beneath the thud of Cody’s heartbeat, so much stronger and faster than Simon’s own.
They break apart an eon later. Cody pants for air, while Simon’s lungs are still. He takes only enough breath to say, “I’m going to turn off the music.”
They need to talk about this. Because as incredible as that kiss was, this isn’t how things went last night—when Cody hesitated, then fled. Simon doesn’t understand what changed.
Cody steps back, clearly nervous. “Was that okay? ”
The symphony cuts off as Simon moves the needle. “It was fine,” he says loftily. “I’m sure you’ll get better with practice.”
“Haha,” Cody says, deadpan.
Simon perches on the nearest armchair. He wants to pace around, but his legs feel too weak. The wobbliness echoes his confusion. Would Francisco hate him for this? No. Tania would have scolded him, but Francisco was always so foolishly compassionate. Four and a half centuries, and Simon’s never met a werewolf like this before.
He hasn’t met many other people like this either.
“Sit,” Simon says, expecting Cody to pull up the nearest chair. Or insist on standing for mysterious bodyguard reasons.
Instead, Cody crouches right in front of Simon. Close enough to touch, but leaving space between them. His heartbeat still strikes quickly, and Simon’s hand moves without conscious thought. He traces the molten river of Cody’s veins, from jaw to collar bone.
“Why didn’t you kiss me last night?” Simon asks. There are more important questions, but that’s the one that presses most urgently. He had accepted the disappointment. Now he doesn’t have to—and he’s lost.
“I should say it’s because of my job, but that’s not all of it.” Cody stares up, intent. “I thought you seemed… drunk on bloodlust. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”
Cody sounds sincere, ridiculous as it is.
“Take advantage of me?” Simon chuckles, because that’s impossible.
Except the thought settles uncomfortably. He wasn’t always ancient and powerful. He was once human, young, and vulnerable. The shadow-gift can’t change everything .
“Will you get in trouble for this?” Simon asks, turning to a lighter question.
Cody grins. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Like I would worry,” Simon says, and waits until Cody sighs.
“Normally, Tobias would take me off the job for something like this.” Cody’s gaze dips to Simon’s lips, then his throat. “But these aren’t normal circumstances.”
“Normally?” Simon asks—feigning offense to mask his genuine jolt of wariness. “Do you often kiss your charges?”
Laughing, Cody straightens up. “I’ve never even been tempted. You’re a bad influence.”
That’s the right answer. Simon has been part of a pattern before, and it’s a trap. Not that this will last. It can’t last. But the thought of something new sparks, like his dormant magic awakening.
“You’re stuck with me another month,” Cody says, stepping back. “The job got extended. Tobias is working on identifying last night’s attacker.”
First joy—another brief month to uncover whatever this is, stirring Simon’s cold blood. Then the ache of that old, invisible scar, as the logic unfolds.
Dima hasn’t yet texted Simon back. But if he extended the contract with Cody’s agency, he isn’t in seclusion. He’s just ignoring Simon specifically.
“You heard from Dima?” Simon asks, neutrally.
Cody frowns. “Tobias did.”
“Fucking typical.” Simon leans back in the armchair, deliberately setting aside that silly hurt. He doesn’t need to expose that foolishness to Cody. “So, another month for you to paw through my record collection. That’s fine with me.”
Nervousness crosses Cody’s face, quickly scowled away. He’s preoccupied with something completely separate from Simon’s sire issues. “There’s one problem. That includes the full moon, and I… I can’t control the shift during those nights.” Cody’s grin can’t paper over the obvious shame. “Tobias will come over to back me up, if that’s okay with you. We’ll need a room to lock me in for at least two nights.”
“Can’t control,” Simon repeats. Caution is welcome after the spark of unfamiliar emotions. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t have a pack to ground me.” Cody shrugs, helpless. “Sometimes I struggle not to shift when my emotions are high. Around the full moon, I can’t stop it at all. Sometimes I lose time. I haven’t hurt anyone,” he adds quickly, though without enthusiasm. “But I have to be careful.”
Simon regards him thoughtfully. Cody looks meeker and more restrained now than ever, when he’s confessing his dangerous lack of control.
“That first night, your claws came out. Last night, your jaw changed.” Simon tilts his head. “I thought that was just a normal werewolf thing.”
Cody winces. “No, that’s me having wolf management issues.”
How peculiar. Simon usually has an excellent sense of danger—and he hasn’t been scared of Cody since the first night. Cody’s confession doesn’t match his behavior.
But Simon isn’t stupid enough to dismiss the threat of a rabid werewolf, from that werewolf’s own mouth.
“Do you trust Tobias?” Simon asks.
Cody seems startled by the question. “Yes. ”
“Then make the arrangements.” Simon rises to his feet, no longer feeling shaky. “There are a couple of rooms that might work as kennels.”
“Great. I’ll let him know.” Cody still looks hesitant. Like a puppy in an unfamiliar space. “What are your plans for the day? I mean, the night?”
Simon is tempted to drag Cody into another dance. Song after song, until they’re both exhausted, and Simon doesn’t have to think anymore. But thinking is unfortunately necessary, to process that dance, that kiss, that confession—oh, right. And the conspiracy against his undead life.
“I need to look up the names from Kimiko’s guest book,” Simon says. “It would go faster if you split the list with me.”
Cody must recognize the olive branch. His shoulders settle for the first time since mentioning his control issues. “Gladly.”
Simon smiles, heading for the door. “I’ll grab a laptop from downstairs. Meet me in the kitchen?”
“Will do,” Cody says, following. His presence is warm behind Simon until they part ways. Cody to his guest room, and Simon to his private chambers.
Letting people close is terrible. Trusting people is even worse. Part of Simon wants to trust Cody anyway, at least enough to give him a chance.
Simon still loads his gun with silver before returning upstairs. Just to be safe.