Page 52

Gabe

G abe blinked awake slowly. Something was off. He could hear the gentle chatter of birds in the pines behind the house. There was no blaring alarm rousing him from sleep.

Meaning he’d forgotten to set one.

Fuck.

He reached blindly for his phone and winced when he saw the time.

Five p.m. He hadn’t meant to sleep that late at all.

Usually the first day of a stretch of time off, Gabe tried to wake up as early as his body would allow him.

Sleeping this late after a night shift meant he’d probably end up staying up all night again, and his sleep schedule would be fucked for the next few days.

And then there was Ferdy. He hadn’t even walked his brother’s puppy before falling asleep, too exhausted to do anything but throw some food in the dog’s bowl and crawl under the covers.

Fuck. Fuck .

Gabe rolled himself out of bed, looking for a pair of sweats in his suitcase, to throw on over his boxers. He stumbled down the stairs, blinking blearily. His eyes didn’t want to open fully, but his body knew the way, even if he was only half-awake.

“Ferdy,” he called out. “Here, puppy.”

No answering bark. No clacking of puppy paws on the hardwood. He turned into the living room and stopped short at the sight in front of him. There was Ferdy, ears cocked and tail thumping slowly. He was snuggled up in a lap.

Soren’s lap.

The petite blond vampire was curled up in a corner of the couch, petting the little bundle of fur lazily, his blond head resting on his other hand. “Good evening,” Soren purred. “Or is it morning for you, Highness?”

Gabe hadn’t seen much of the vampire in the past few days, despite staying in the same house.

Gabe had been either working or sleeping, and Soren had, strangely enough, not been taking advantage of the opportunity their close quarters provided to pester him.

And Gabe for his part hadn’t sought the vampire out, not wanting to bring up the very necessary conversation of trying another visit with his mom.

Familiar guilt coursed through him. Bad son. Bad brother. Coward.

He pushed the thoughts aside and blinked blearily at the puppy Soren was holding. He’d never known the energetic dog to not come when called. “Is he sick?”

Soren took a second too long to tear his eyes off Gabe’s bare chest—Gabe was so used to living alone he hadn’t even thought to put a shirt on—before answering, “I tired him out. Used my vamp speed to run with him in the woods behind the house.”

The image of Soren—fashionista, club hopper, literal monster—running around with a puppy in the forest made Gabe laugh out loud.

Soren pursed his lips in annoyance. “What?” he asked defensively.

“Nothing. Just the thought of you on puppy duty.”

“What about it?” Soren narrowed his eyes.

But Gabe was too foggy-headed just now to properly tease the vampire. “Just…thank you. You didn’t have to. It was, um, nice of you.”

Soren shrugged casually, but he looked pleased by the thanks. “You’re welcome, Highness.”

Gabe sighed. He was never getting rid of the nickname.

Feeling more alert, he was struck still for a moment by the picture Soren presented, all curled up in the couch. The vampire was wearing some sort of knit loungewear that looked unbelievably soft.

Gabe had had no idea the little monster could look so…domestic.

He cleared his throat. “You hungry?”

Poor choice of words. Gabe held his breath as Soren’s pupils dilated, a new heat filling his gaze. “You offering?” Soren asked, arching a brow.

“Shit.” Gabe blanched. “I didn’t mean… I just need to eat some dinner. You interested?”

“Just messing with you, human. I drank a few days ago. Don’t need yours.” Soren grinned his usual grin, but the heat left his eyes in an instant.

Oh. Of course. Gabe opened his mouth, then closed it again, not sure what to say. He knew from Danny that vampires often liked to mix sex and feedings (which was, frankly, more information than Gabe needed to hear from his own newly vampified brother).

So if Soren had fed recently…

Gabe wasn’t sure why the thought of Soren feeding off someone else in town made his gut clench.

Sure you do. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t cook,” Soren said out of nowhere, the words sounding like a challenge.

“Okay…?” Gabe frowned at him. “Yeah, why would you? You don’t have to eat.”

“Roman cooks for Danny.”

Gabe wasn’t sure why Soren was making that comparison. Roman was Danny’s husband. His fated mate. It was an entirely different situation.

“Don’t worry,” he found himself reassuring the vampire. “I don’t cook either. I’m well versed in ordering in though. You like Thai?”

Soren’s answering grin was…softer than usual. Less manic, more genuine. “I could be persuaded.”

An hour later, they were eating from takeout containers on the kitchen table, both having agreed that using real plates was just a way to create unnecessary dishes.

Gabe had put on a shirt, not missing the way Soren had pouted in disappointment when he’d told the vampire he was going to go cover up.

Gabe had been nervous about living in the same house as Soren.

Beyond nervous. He’d been half-convinced that without Danny or Roman to chaperone, Soren would try getting into his head again.

That he’d try to mess with Gabe’s mind, manipulate his emotions.

But Gabe was realizing he’d misjudged that risk.

Soren could have used his freaky compulsion to ease Gabe’s panic attack the other day.

He could have easily coerced him into visiting the care home, to get their visit over with.

But instead, he’d comforted Gabe with calm words and a steady presence.

He’d taken him to breakfast and given him time to get his thoughts together.

And once Gabe let himself relax in Soren’s presence, it was weirdly…nice.

Gabe wasn’t used to having someone to eat dinner with.

Someone like Soren, who had a million interesting stories.

Who didn’t quiz Gabe on being a doctor or expect him to lead the conversation.

So many people thought Gabe—high school football player, former prom king, ICU doctor—was some kind of alpha male or social butterfly, but in truth Gabe liked to listen more than he liked to talk.

Liked being able to focus on someone else instead of pretending to have it all together.

Soren didn’t seem to mind that at all.

Gabe took a small bite of a ridiculously huge, ridiculously fancy cookie that Soren had insisted they get delivered in addition to dinner. According to him, they needed sweet to balance the spicy.

Gabe would never admit how delicious the cookie was. Nobody needed that kind of sugar on a regular basis.

“Tell me about your mom.”

Gabe choked on his bite. “What?”

Soren nibbled his own treat delicately, and Gabe tried not to stare as the vampire’s pink tongue darted out to lick a dab of frosting from the corner of his mouth. Tried to ignore the vague feelings of arousal sitting this close to Soren stirred in him. “The issue you’re having visiting her.”

Well, that did the trick.

Soren took one look at Gabe’s expression and clarified, “I’m not asking you to divulge all your emotional secrets.

I just need to know. Is it me? Because I don’t need to go with you.

You can visit her without me there for compulsion.

Or I could go ahead of you, try to ease her mood, and then leave you to it. ”

It would be an easy cop-out, to say the only issue was that Soren made Gabe uncomfortable. But for some reason, Gabe didn’t want to leave the little monster thinking this was all his fault. Not when he’d been so patient with Gabe the other day in the car.

“No, it’s not you,” Gabe murmured, sliding down a little in his chair.

Soren looked unconvinced.

“Not just you,” Gabe amended. “It brings up…a lot. Visiting her. I hate to think of someone else seeing…all that.”

Was that the lamest explanation in all of history? Probably.

Soren sighed and put down his cookie, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. “Do you know how old I am, Highness?”

“Not exactly. Older than Roman, right?”

“I was turned in Denmark in the seventeenth century.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Gabe did his best not to let his shock show, but judging by Soren’s amused look, he failed miserably. “Um…you don’t look a day over twenty-two?”

That part was true enough, but Soren still giggled at Gabe’s comment. The sound was bright and melodic. Like a little bell.

It made Gabe’s stomach flip.

“I’m just saying,” Soren said after his giggling died down.

“I’ve seen a lot. There’s nothing you could do that would shock me.

” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Well, if you drop-kicked your mom in the face, I guess I would be a little surprised. But I know people. And you’re good people. I’m not going to judge you.”

Gabe snorted at that. “You love judging me.”

“Exactly,” Soren agreed, as if Gabe had proved his point. “If you weren’t a good person at heart, I wouldn’t love judging you. I would dismiss you. I wouldn’t have any time for you at all.”

The vampire’s words were harsh, but his tone was…gentle. It reminded Gabe of the comfort he’d felt with Soren’s strong, delicate hand on the back of his neck, his voice giving Gabe soothing commands.

“I love her,” Gabe found himself saying.

“I know you do.” Soren scooted his chair closer, leaning forward.

“I just have…complicated feelings.” Gabe hated how weak his voice came out.

“Only boring people’s feelings are uncomplicated,” Soren reassured him.

Gabe watched in amazement as the vampire leaned closer, patting him gently on the arm. His time with Soren was turning out to be…disorienting.

He’d spent so long holding on to his mistrust of Soren, keeping his distance, trying to convince himself his fixation with the vampire was based on fear. But now here he was, on the verge of opening up more than he had with anyone in the past decade.