Page 49 of Fanged Desire
As the wine worked its way through her system, Addison leaned her head back, her eyes half-lidded. “You know, this is nice. Having someone take care of me for once.”
Staring at the ceiling, I felt that same strange warmth unfurling in my chest. But I also knew I couldn’t let this go on. I’d already let myself get too comfortable, too close. I wasn’t supposed to be her caretaker, her confidant. I was here to help her find her sister, nothing more.
I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the lingering intimacy. “Addison, I think I should–”
“No,” she interrupted, pouty and demanding now that the wine had loosened her tongue. Her hand reached out, wet fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Stay.”
I looked down at her hand, then back at her face. She was staring at me with inebriated insistence, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small. I sighed, the last of my resolve crumbling at the slightest breath of wind.
“All right,” I said quietly, sliding down to sit on the floor next to the tub. “I’ll stay.”
As I settled beside her, the quiet voice of reason whispered in my head, all but drowned out by the steady sound of her breathing. Why was it so easy to say yes to her? Why couldn’t I just walk away?
Addison leaned back, her eyes drifting shut, her hand still lightly resting on my wrist. The room was quiet except for the soft splash of water and the rumbling thrum of the city outside. And despite everything – the danger, the complications – Istayed, just like she asked, anchored by the simple fact that I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
What the hell are you doing Hunter?
Chapter 18
Addison
I woke up to a pounding headache, the kind of skull-splitting throb that I hadn’t been accustomed to since my early twenties.
When the rushing in my ears built to a roar I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes, willing the pain to subside. The faint smell of coffee wafted through the apartment, the only saving grace coaxing me out of bed despite the dull pounding in my head.
But it wasn’t just the headache weighing me down – it was the guilt.
I should have been doing more, pushing harder, digging deeper to find Penelope. Instead, I’d spent the night with Hunter, letting myself get wrapped up in the strange comfort she provided. My memories of last night were blurred and faded, snippets of conversation and a whole bottle of wine. But I remembered enough. How I’d plied her with questions and begged her to stay.
Thank God she’d insisted on vacating to the living room sofa or who knows what I would have asked of her that night.
I couldn’t deny how safe I felt with her, how being in her presence, even while she lingered across the room, made the crushing weight of my worries feel a little lighter. But that safety was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Dragging myself out of bed, I padded into the kitchen to find Ethan standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with a casualness that didn’t at all match the storm cloud hanging over my head.
He glanced over his shoulder at my arrival, cracking a sly smile. “Morning, sunshine.”
I grumbled something unintelligible and slumped into a chair at the breakfast table. Ethan turned back to his cooking, flipping the last pancake onto a plate before grabbing a steaming mug and setting it in front of me.
“Coffee,” he announced proudly, sliding the mug across the table. “You look like you need it.”
I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic, letting the heat seep into my fingers. “Thanks.”
Ethan leaned against the table, crossing his arms. “Hunter left earlier. Said she had to get to work.”
I nodded absently, taking a cautious sip of the dark liquid. It was strong and bitter, and exactly what I needed, scalding my throat as it went down.
Ethan watched me for a moment, his expression shifting from casual to serious when I finally met his gaze. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing with her?”
I blinked at him, clutching the mug tighter than intended. “What do you mean?”
“I mean what the hell is happening between you and Hunter?” he demanded, tone dropping as he bit into a steaming pancake and shot me a pointed stare.
I frowned, a twinge of defensiveness rising in my chest. “Hunter’s been helping me.”
“Yeah, and that’s great.” Ethan pushed off the counter, shoveling the rest of the pancake into his mouth. “But don’t forget, you know next to nothing about her. There’s something about her, Addison. Something... off.”
I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the words caught in my throat. Because deep down, I knew he wasn’t entirely off the mark.
