“Why the hell would he do that?” Rosemary asked in surprise, her mouth dropping open. “That doesn’t work.”
“He was trying to respect her wishes.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Not sure what was going on with them—I didn’t ask—but they clearly weren’t sharing blood.”
“What a bitch,” she replied, shaking her head.
I let out a huff of laughter.
“What?” she asked. “That’s a shitty thing to do.”
“It’s her choice,” I reminded my mate. “Her body.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “That’s true. Still, yikes. That must’ve been hard for both of them. It’s not like she was comfortable withholding the exchange.”
“When she found him, she cut open her wrist so he’d feed?—”
Rosemary shook her head in exasperation.
“She meant well,” I said with a smile. “But my father had to stitch her up. She just expected it to close on its own if Beau licked it or something.”
She laughed. “Not quite.”
I smiled back. Gods, she was lovely.
“I can’t imagine getting saddled with a mate?—”
“Hey, thanks,” I cut in.
Rosemary laughed. “Getting saddled with a matewho was completely clueless. Like everything must seem so overwhelming and strange.”
“I imagine so,” I agreed.
“Like the biting,” Rosemary continued, glancing my way. “What if I didn’t know that I needed your blood too? I’d just be in a suspended state of animation for God knew how long? Sounds like hell.”
“A Vampire would have to be raised by humans or something not to know that,” I pointed out.
“Fair enough,” she agreed. “Butstill. The heat and the forever and all of it? What a mindfuck for a human expecting to live like eighty years.”
“It’s an adjustment,” I agreed. “Both my sisters-in-law struggled for a while.”
“With good reason,” she said, swiping the cheese I’d cut so she could assemble the sandwiches on the stove. “Even I was shocked, and I know what it’s all about.”
“You seemed to accept it pretty quickly,” I replied, leaning against the counter to watch her.
“Well, yeah.” She kept her eyes on the stove as she answered. “Once we met, I knew it was inevitable. Fighting it would just suck for both of us. What’s the point?”
I hummed in agreement.
“It’s different for me anyway,” she said softly.
“How so?”
“I never thought I’d live long enough to see my cousins mated or meet their children or any of that,” she said, staring at the grilled cheese. Her voice grew husky. “Most of the people I love are immortal orwillbe.”
“But not your pop,” I replied quietly.
“But not my pop,” she confirmed, finally looking at me. “But I always knew I’d outlive him.” She let out a huff of pained laughter. “I mean, I hope we’re both really old when it happens, but yeah. He was fifteen years older than my mom when they met, so he was over forty when I came along. You’ve seen him. He’s not exactly aging gracefully.”
“You’ve still got a lot of time,” I assured her.
