Page 19 of Worse Fates
“I protect you.”
I think I’ve spooked him, his eyes darting to each corner as if he’s looking for an escape. So when he asks, “You're rich, right? Wanna buy me a burger?” I can’t hide my surprise.
“It’d be my honor.” Because in truth I thought he’d demand to leave and never see me again.
He snorts, grinning wide as he leans down to grab his backpack. “So fucking proper. C’mon, don’t forget your wallet, I’m not a cheap date.”
Golden senses our connection, even if he’s more comfortable hiding it behind denial and humor. Once his stomach is full, and his apprehension about me calmed, I’ll explain what we are. I have no doubt my love will be returned. We’re fated, after all.
We leave the room together, Rurik and Ramy already gone. Explaining I know the vampire who hurt him would ruin the strange mood we’ve found.
“Chilly,” he mumbles, searching for the source of the cold breeze, before whistling low. “How much does a place like thiscost?” he asks as I lead him towards the elevator, the light is bright inside but I’m glad to see Golden doesn’t flinch.
I sent Rurik to find us the first hotel he could secure a room in, before carrying Golden here.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him honestly, watching with a small smile while Golden presses his nose into one of the four mirrors surrounding us.
He glances at my reflection, raising an eyebrow, attempting to sniff out any lies.
“Rich people are crazy, I know how much everything I buy costs. How’d you get to be so rich?”
He pushes his curls out the way, getting a better look at the bruise on his neck. The long column he exposes reveals more of his warm brown skin, heat rises within me as my eyes travel the length. Hungry, my eyes darken, not for his blood—which would be exquisite— but the taste of his skin. To feel all that supple flesh under my hands.
The bruise I hate, and even that isn’t ugly on him. But if I could, I would take it and double the pain on me.
“By being a monster,” I reply.
“Huh.” Is all Golden says as the elevator pings and he struts into the warmly lit reception. He might be shorter than me, but Golden has a long gait and walks fast, large boots hitting the tiled floor like he wants to make his presence known.
Guests dressed in their smart business suits and dresses raise an annoyed eye at him. At first I think he doesn’t notice, but then I notice he’s smirk to himself. Like this is one big joke, and he’s the only one who knows it.
Standing beside Golden is a new experience, he screams ‘like me or hate me, I’m still the one laughing’. While he doesn’t care what these people think, I will not allow any disrespect towards my mate.
Ensuring to walk shoulder to shoulder, I leave no room for misunderstanding, and keep my eyes cold to all but him.
Once we get past the revolving door, he shivers against the chill and tucks his shoulders under his ears. Without a second thought, I shrug off my jacket and drape it over him, happy when he tugs it closer. Already looking warmer.
Golden tilts his head.
“You're weird.” But he doesn’t remove my jacket as he walks on.
Chapter Seven - Golden
Is this what temporary insanity feels like?
Agitation crawls up my legs like they’re covered in ants, my knee bouncing to get rid of them. My brain is screaming run, I shouldn’t be sitting with a fucking vampire in a café in the middle of the night.
And the stupid part of me, which is controlled by…new feelings, begs to crawl into his lap and press into him until I don’t know where he starts and I end.
I shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself from touching him and clench the fabric in my pockets, twisting until I feel a rip. Fuck, but Lucero makes me…want things.
Instead, I focus on the cheery pop music playing low in the background. The dull ache in my neck reminds me I should be running to a church, or throwing the 99p garlic bread in Lucero’s disgustingly handsome face.
But while there’s only two other customers sitting at tables, I don’t want to cause a scene.
I realise I’ve been staring at him, not saying anything, for an embarrassing amount of time. Heat rises into my cheeks.
Smiling as if I’ve just given him a treat, he leans his forearms onto the tables and says, “I believe you requested to be treated to a ‘super whacky vegetarian triple stuffed burger’, correct?”
