Page 7 of My Road Trip with a Vampire: Season One
I turn around to that voice that sounds like the night itself. It's my stranger from the graveyard. The whole world feels like it's gone still around me. "I'm assuming you just told him you're quitting?"
I meet his eyes. His beige skin looks a touch paler than it did last night. Maybe he got sidetracked by some awful spirit today. I know better than to trust him or make excuses, but his dark gaze melts something inside me even though the air feels like it’s dropped ten degrees in the past minute.
So I nod.
"Lovely," he says, and I hear Bob’s protest. This is a wrench in his plan that he obviously wasn’t expecting. My stranger cuts him off with a smile. "And I'm assuming everything went well and that there are no issues?"
Bob still looks confused, his white tennis shoes scraping at the gravel.
“Who the hell are you?" he asks, in a grimier voice than I've ever heard him use before.
The taller man is still nameless to me, so I'm hoping he'll introduce himself. He folds his arms over his chest and laughs.
"Oh Bea, you do love to keep your secrets, don't you? But you should have told him about your adoring fiancé."
4
A WOLF WITH RED ROSES
My heart is still pounding when I wrap my arms around the stranger's waist. We take off on his motorcycle, and my eyes water from the cold air as he speeds up.
“Slow down, please.”
My hold is an iron grip around him. I hate going this fast, and I’m not just talking about how many miles per hour we’re traveling. I'm kind of concerned with how quickly this day has flipped upside down.
He's silent as he weaves through traffic.
"Where are we going?"
"To the house."
My house? Where my mother is sure to be home from bingo by now? She won't appreciate an uninvited guest.
I try to squeeze him to get his attention, but I don't want to distract him when we're going this fast.
“Sorry, lovely. I’m in a bit of a rush. I’ve got to make up for a late start.”
“A late start for what?”
“For our business arrangement. You’re going to help me with the wayward ghosts and all that jazz, remember?”
Normally I’d cringe at the use ofall that jazz,but he’s cute enough that the phrase is acceptable. Horniness must be clouding my brain because I literally just screwed up my job and hopped on this guy’s motorcycle without a second thought.
“I never really agreed to that. I can’t just sayfuck workand talk to ghosts all day.”
“It doesn't seem like you can really avoid talking to ghosts,” he says, taking the turn that winds us up the hill my house sits on. “You might as well make some money from it. Besides, your work situation at Bob’s looks iffy at the moment.”
I don’t have to see his face to know he’s smiling. He’s right. I’m screwed unless I crawl back to Bob and ask to keep my job. I’ll probably have to offer to get a drink with him, and I’m not in the mood for it today. I’ve been on edge for hours now.
“There’s still my mother. I’m an adult, but she’s super strict.Her house, her rules. You know how it goes. I’m—” I pause because it’s awkward to admit. “I'm not allowed to bring men home unless she approves of them,” I mumble.
“What about women?” he asks.
Heat rises to my face.
“What?”
“What about the women you date? Is she concerned about them, or do you just work to keep the men a secret?”
