The Fangover (17 page)

“Weird shit went down last night. Who knows? Maybe he didn’t know he had it. Maybe he didn’t have it.”

“Now you’re just reaching.” Stella played with a pack of sugar that was on the table, flicking it back and forth. “Why was he with Karen?”

“Look, I don’t mean to be like rude or whatever, but you said you had sex with Wyatt. So did you tell him you care about him? Did you guys say you were like in a relationship or whatever?”

A flush creeped up her neck. “No, not exactly.” She had mostly run away.

“Cuz he’s been digging on you for a long time and it’s like a vulnerable thing for a dude to go there with his fantasy chick. If he didn’t say anything about you dating or whatever it’s probably because he was waiting for you to say something.”

“Well . . .” She bit her lip, squirming in the plastic booth. “He did suggest that maybe we could date. And that he loved me.”

Saxon shot her his hang-loose sign. “Cool. What did you say?”

“I think I just ran away. Then the next night I yelled at him and told him there was no ‘us.’” A strange pit had lodged itself in her throat. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? I sent him into the arms of another woman.”

“Maybe,” Saxon agreed. “But don’t leap to the clouds just yet.”

“What?” She assumed he meant conclusions.

Saxon continued without pause. “And that doesn’t mean you can’t work it out.”

“But the necklace . . .” she protested weakly, starting to realize that Saxon was actually making sense.

Making a
pfft
sound with his lips, Saxon shook his head. “We were all drunk as skunks last night. Wyatt put on a corset. I rode a bull. We probably would have given away a baby if we’d had one. You can’t put any stock in what happened last night.”

She was starting to doubt herself. But one thing she didn’t doubt. “Being drunk does not make cheating okay.”

“But you told him you weren’t in a relationship, so that is not cheating. And come on, what does every man do when the woman he loves tells him to buzz off? He gets drunk and fucks somebody else. It’s a fact.”

“That’s a grim fact.” The scary thing was, she knew he was right. It didn’t make it any less wrong or any less difficult to swallow, but Saxon had a point. She had screwed up first by not telling Wyatt her own feelings. She hadn’t even asked him for time, for them to take it slow. She’d just freaked out.

“So’s murder.”

“What?” Stella frowned.

“Murder is a grim fact.”

“What does murder have to do with sex?”

“Sex, lies, and murder.”

He’d lost her, but fortunately she was spared from having to respond by the waitress setting down Wyatt’s waffle and her glass of blood. She was thirsty. That hangover had a wicked hold on her. She sipped while Saxon chewed, as she mulled over everything that had happened. She sifted through the facts and speculation, worrying her bottom lip. There seemed to be very little they knew 100 percent other than what Saxon had said—he’d ridden a bull and Wyatt had worn a corset. There was one other fact that just occurred to her though.

“How are you going to pay for this?” she asked him. “You told me you were broke.”

Saxon gave her a sheepish grin. “I was kinda hoping you’d treat me. You know, for being your shoulder to cry on.”

That so did not surprise her. “What if I don’t have any money on me? How could you be so sure?”

He shrugged. “Because you’re you. You’re organized. There is no way you’re out for the night without cash and a credit card in your wallet.”

Saxon knew her well. She liked to be prepared. “Fine, I’ll pay. And thanks for the advice.” Frankly, he had talked her out of violence. She could buy him a waffle for that.

“No problem. You going to find Wyatt and talk to him? ’Cause that’s like the mature thing to do, you know.”

Saxon throwing maturity in her face was quite a cruel irony, but she couldn’t argue with him. “Yes, I’m going to talk to him. Now stop chewing with your mouth full and get your elbows off the table.”

“Yes, Mom.”

That felt better. More normal. She sipped her drink and tried to think of what to say to Wyatt.

“Bite me” might be a good place to start.

Chapter Seventeen

SAY IT WITH FLOWERS

(But Not to Saxon)

W
YATT
walked down the street with his flowers and called Stella. He seriously doubted she would answer and he wasn’t sure then what his plan would be. Maybe she would go to Johnny’s. Or home. He didn’t think she would still be with Saxon, and she wasn’t the type to defiantly stay out all night making the bar rounds by herself.

Of course she didn’t answer. It went straight to voicemail. He paused on the corner, undecided. If he went home, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep. His body was weary, but his mind was still racing around the track. For all the bouncing around his thoughts were doing, he felt like he couldn’t think.

His phone rang in his hand. It was Stella. His heart started to thump heavily in his chest. Hitting Answer he said, “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me.”

She didn’t sound like she wanted to rip his testicles off. That was a good sign. “Hey. Where are you? Are you okay?” Maybe she was calling for bail money. She’d left the bar mad enough to do vandalism.

“I’m okay. I’m at Déjà Vu. Can we talk?”

Fear crept along his spine. She was going to dump him again, more calmly and permanently. “Sure. I’m right around the corner. I’ll be there in five.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

What the hell was she thanking him for? Wyatt knew it had to be bad then.

When he got to the block where the restaurant was, she was already outside with Saxon. She was touching Saxon. Tenderly, it seemed. Jealousy coiled in his gut. He really needed to get a grip on that, but he didn’t think he was going to until she was his—which she wasn’t going to be, clearly. So he was facing an eternity of feeling like someone was driving nails into his nuts every time Stella smiled at a man. It didn’t sound like a fun future.

Swallowing hard, determined not to make matters worse, he approached them and forced a casual, “Hey, guys.”

Stella glanced at him and gave him a shy smile. “Hey. I’m just putting some ointment on Saxon’s cross burn. I think it will help it heal. This stuff works wonders on mortals, so it will definitely work on a vampire.”

Her fingers were massaging something into Saxon’s forehead while he stood there patiently. Just Stella being maternal as usual. Nothing untoward. Wyatt relaxed, feeling like even more of a jackass, his damp fist curled tightly around the flowers dangling by his side.

“You don’t want to keep the scar?” Wyatt said, injecting levity into his voice. “I thought chicks dig scars.”

“This one’s just creepy,” Saxon said. “No one is going to want to have sex with me if they see the cross staring down at them.”

Well, there was that. “Good point.”

“Are those flowers for me?” Saxon asked, brown eyes homing in on the blooms Wyatt was clutching nervously.

“No. They’re for Stella.”

Her head snapped toward him, her fingers drifting down from Saxon’s forehead. “They are?” Her gaze met his, warm and nervous, before dropping down to the flowers.

“Yes.” He lifted them up in offering. “I’m sorry for giving away Johnny’s necklace. I had no right to do that, and while I can’t even begin to explain why I would do something so awful and I don’t remember it at all, being shitfaced doesn’t excuse it. I’m really sorry,” he repeated.

Her mouth fell open, her tongue slipping out to wet her pink lower lip. “Thank you for apologizing.” She took the flowers from him and nuzzled them to her nose. “They’re beautiful.”

They really weren’t. They were cheap grocery store flowers in a cellophane sleeve, but he was pleased she understood he was sincere. “And for the record, I had a drink with Karen. That’s it. There is no other woman I want but you.”

“Are you sure?” Saxon asked. “Because no one would blame you if you slept with Karen. I’m just saying. And honesty is always the best policy.”

Wyatt turned to his friend and struggled to not snap his head off his shoulders and toss it down the street like a bowling ball. “One: Mind your own business. Two: I am being honest. I did not sleep with Karen. Three: Go away.”

Saxon’s eyes went wide. “Fine. I can take a hint.” He rolled his eyes and looked at Stella. He mouthed “crazy” to her and pointed to Wyatt behind his palm. Stella let out a laugh.

Wyatt told him, “It wasn’t really a hint. I want to be alone with Stella. We’ll see you tomorrow night back at work.”

“All right. Night.” Saxon waved. “Thanks for the waffles, Stella-roo.” His hand shot out and he snapped the head off of a carnation and tucked it behind his ear. “Catch you all on the flip side.”

Wyatt watched him walk away. “That is one odd duck.”

“I wonder what he was like as a kid.”

“He still is a kid.” But Wyatt didn’t want to talk about Saxon. As the keyboardist crossed the street, he turned back to Stella. “I swear to you, I have no idea how I got that necklace.”

Her lips pursed, but she nodded. “I believe you. Last night was insane. I’m not sure we’ll ever really know what happened.”

“I guess if this is the worst of it, we’re lucky.”

She nodded in agreement. “Though I’m not sure how lucky Katie is feeling. Have you talked to Cort? How is she doing?”

Wyatt was embarrassed to realize he’d been so wrapped up in his own concerns, he hadn’t actually asked how Katie was doing. Waking up a vampire was kind of a big deal. “He didn’t really say. But he didn’t sound as excited as I thought he would about not being married.”

“He likes her. He has for a while. I’ve seen him watch her.”

Wyatt went for it. Staring down at her, he said tellingly, “Like I watch you?”

Stella sucked in a small breath, the flowers bouncing below her chin as her hand shook. “Do you watch me?”

He nodded, slowly. “So much that I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.”

“Maybe I was afraid to notice.”

“Do I scare you? Do you want me to back off?” He would if she asked him to. He wouldn’t like it, but he respected Stella too much to push her.

A car drove past them, the bass pounding. Stella stared at it, contemplative. “I don’t understand why you like me.”

Relief allowed him to stop clenching his fists. If that was all she was worried about, he could work with that. He moved a step closer to her. “Are you kidding me? What’s not to like? You’re smart, compassionate, beautiful. You care so deeply about the people in your life. I think you’re amazing.”

“I don’t feel amazing. I feel uptight.”

“It’s because you weren’t getting any,” he teased. “I know it wasn’t doing good things for me either.”

She gave a short laugh. “Maybe. But I’ve never been into casual sex.”

“Me either.” He’d thought the “I love you” had made that pretty obvious. “I can show you again how not casual I am about it if you’d like.”

“Saxon told me I should have told you what I was feeling. That it wasn’t fair of me to run away like that. He’s right.”

Nerves drew taut again. This could work in his favor or it could go horribly wrong. She had yet to really define her feelings for him. And she hadn’t answered his suggestion to get it on again. This wasn’t a big deal. Just the rest of his eternal life.

Total torture.

“You did what you needed to do.” He wasn’t going to criticize her emotions. It had been bad timing. “Johnny’s death may have opened the door for us to do what we did, but it also made it just about impossible for you to deal with it. I get that.”

“You are probably the most solid, stable, kind man I’ve ever known.”

That was something. A little like what you’d say about a pet, but at least it was positive. The street was quiet, oddly so, no one coming in or out of the diner. The cobblestones were dark and damp from having been recently hosed down, and hanging plants twirled lazily to his left from a balcony. He didn’t respond, wanting more than that. Wanting not just compliments, but her heart.

“I’ve used my brother as a crutch to hold on to the past, you know. Saxon reminded me of that—that no matter how it’s been, we cling to pieces of our mortal selves. Johnny’s death reminded me that you can’t fight change, and sometimes you shouldn’t.” She gave him a smile. “Being afraid of love is just stupid. Why would I deny myself the chance to be in a relationship with someone as wonderful as you?”

She thought he was wonderful. She had said “love.” Wyatt felt pleasure build up inside him, warming his limbs, his heart. This was good.

“You tell me,” he told her, brushing her hair back off her cheeks. He would never get tired of the sensation of her skin beneath his fingertips, of staring into her deep green eyes, luminous pools of desire.

“I wouldn’t. Because while I may be a lot of things, I’m not stupid, and I’m not usually illogical. And being with you is actually very logical.”

Wyatt drew his finger across her lip, teasing the flesh, before pressing the pad of his thumb into her fang. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that, Stella. I don’t want to be your logical choice. I want to be the choice you can’t resist.”

Maybe it was stupid to push. Maybe he should just take what he could get. But he would be miserable that way, when he wanted everything. He would be insecure and jealous and would ruin it before it could ever grow into something permanent. He knew that. So he asked for everything and held his breath waiting for her response.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted deliciously. With her fang, she pricked his thumb and sucked his blood gently. “Oh, I can’t resist you. I love you.”

That was more than he could have ever hoped for and he figured he could pretty much die a happy vampire now. “Stella, I love you, too.”

He drew his finger back and replaced the probing touch with his mouth, his lips a soft press onto her while he processed his emotions. His. She was his. It was almost impossible to comprehend. But he could hear it in her sigh. Taste it on her tongue that quested for entrance before he could even get his bearings. He could feel it in the grip of her fingers in his shoulder. He could smell her arousal. For him.

Their kiss turned from gentle and appreciative to carnal in a heartbeat.

Before, he had held back just a little, unsure of her reception. Now there was no dissembling on either of their parts. They wanted each other and they wanted each other now. Her hot little fingers threaded into his hair and her tongue tangled with his as he crushed her against his chest. The floral packaging crinkled in protest, but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel her, every inch of her, and he pulled her hips in tight against his throbbing erection.

Then he remembered that they were still standing on the street corner. “Will you come home with me?” he asked. “We can put your flowers in water and you in my bed.”

“Having sex in a bed this time would be nice,” she said.

Wyatt laughed. “Taking all our clothes off might be cool, too.”

Stella took his hand with a grin and they walked down the street.

He was ridiculously happy.

With a silent vow, he promised Johnny to always take care of Stella, as long as she would let him hang around her.

Then he twined her fingers in his and ate up the sidewalk, full of pride and anticipation.

This night was going to end on a high note after all.