“I what?”
Fuck. I should’ve shut up and let things carry on. In my mind’s eye, I can already see where they’d lead. Get my clothes off, get his bottoms off… Ugh, why am I ruining it?
“Grant.”
“I didn’t think you wanted me like this. I was…” I shake my head. “This morning, I was thinking I didn’t want to regret not making a move.”
“And now?”
“What about now?”
“Where do you want this to go?”
I gape at him. “Vlad. I’ve been in love with you for fifteen years.” As soon as the words escape, I snap my mouth shut. Well. That’s not what I wanted to lead with. Not before our first time.
Vlad doesn’t reply. He stares at me, and either I can’t read his expression or I don’t want to. Probably the latter. He hasn’t instantly reciprocated, which cannot be a good sign, right?
“Grant…”
“Fuck,” I mutter, and when I push away from him and stand on shaky legs, he lets me go. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I should never—”
Where can I go? Not to Asher and Quinn, not when they’re probably getting up to what we could have been doing. Better to know this now, I guess, but it still hurts.
“Grant, I—”
“No, it’s fine. I should… It’s almost sundown, right? You’re right, we should deal with everything. I’ll get ready.”
I flee to the bathroom before he can reply and let out a sigh when I lock the door behind me. Well, that was foolish. At best.I tip my head back against the door. Now the ache feels worse than before, making my muscles shake.
My lips still tingle. I don’t dare look at myself in the mirror because it’s only been a few seconds, so they’ll still be red from our kissing. Did he not know how I felt about him? Why kiss me back?
Doesn’t matter. I bite back a frustrated sound and reach to turn on the shower before I strip out of my clothes. I need to get my head on straight, especially if Rachel will be here. It’s time to get this job truly done.
Chapter Sixteen
Vladimir
Theshowergoeson,and I drop my head into my hands and groan. I am not certain that I have dealt so poorly with a situation in hundreds of years, and now, of all times? I might yell, if I did not think it would cause Grant to emerge from the bathroom to check on me.
Not that he should. I can admit, to myself, that I still feel a kernel of doubt regarding his feelings toward me. I turned him.I introduced him to this world, and I have hardly allowed him to leave my side since that occurred. At the same time, I can recognise that he was, while young, still fully grown before we met. He knows his own mind. He can make his own decisions.
He has chosen me. To whatever extent he can and whatever that means to him, but I should not care about the intricacies of it.
He chose me. He chooses me.
He told me he is in love with me.
I press my fingers to my lips when my cheeks begin to ache. I am smiling. Of course. Why would I not? I have been loved through the centuries; I cannot deny that. I also cannot deny that it has never felt quite like this, this flurry of feelings low in my belly, sending me off-kilter, warning me to scrap this job and abandon the Huntsman, my life, everything for—
I shake my head. My heart cannot rule me. That is something I cannot allow. And, truly, I believe that Grant would not appreciate it. My eyes dart to the door. I should have replied. I should have portrayed to him the depth of my own feelings.
Will he understand that he took me by surprise? I never could have anticipated the apprehension I just saw on his face. I shake my head and reach for my phone. We have an hour or so before darkness will truly blanket the sky, and I anticipate that Asher and Quinn will be keeping themselves busy—thinking we are doing the same—until then.
Moreau’s number is not one I often use. Even before he left us after all that happened with Tamesis and Vasile, I called the Huntsman before him.
Still, I scroll to his name. The Huntsman has gone to the Otherworld, and perhaps Moreau has travelled with him. I certainly do not understand the relationship between the two of them. I would never attempt to.
He answers on the third ring, voice faintly tinged with panic.
