I could look up date ideas online.
Maybe Bennie had a few suggestions too. By god, I swore he was out at least once a week.
Back in my room, I quickly got dressed, then grabbed my phone and headed downstairs to see if Bennie was up already.
He’d probably laugh at me for asking, but if he had suggestions, that’d be worth it. And I wasn’t the most creative guy. I’d never been. I was the too serious one. Always the responsible one out of my friend group. I’d never fucked around because dating had seemed too much drama and not worth the effort. In hindsight, a part of my lack of interest in dating had definitely stemmed from just not being interested in girls.
I snorted, thinking back to the way my friends had waxed poetic about girls’ breasts, while I’d just thought, “Uh, okay. They’re breasts.” That definitely should’ve clued me in to the fact I was gay earlier than it did.
Shaking my head, I entered the kitchen—and stopped dead in my tracks as Finn’s scent finally hit me.
Fear laced with salt.
He’d been crying.
My vision turned red, claws and fangs dropping as I scanned my surroundings.
The scent was fading. Hours old. But it still packed a punch.
Fuck.
What had happened?
Nothing looked out of place. Everything appeared to be in order… except for a slice of pizza lying on the counter next to the fridge.
I furrowed my brow and blinked, staring at the leftover pizza that was my only clue as to what had happened.
He’d obviously been interrupted by something.
But what?
My mind immediately went to that mysterious fledgling, but there was absolutely no other scent in here. I’d know if a stranger, especially a strange vampire, had entered our home. Still, I inhaled deeply again, breathing in all of Finn’s fear and tears. Nope. Definitely no scent aside from his.
Soo…
Had he gotten a text? Had something urgent come up?
Maybe…
Wait. My phone.
I quickly pulled it out of my pocket and checked for messages, but there were none.
My brow furrowed again.
It’s not like he needed to tell me he’d gotten home okay, but… I’d kinda expected him to. Wasn’t that normal? Maybe something really did happen.
A surprise shift at the café?
But then again, would that be so damn urgent that he’d leave the pizza sitting on the counter? And why would that frighten him and make him cry?
I headed over to the fridge, and the scent of his fear intensified.
Weird.
A fridge wasn’t something to be afraid of. There was literally nothing in there that could—oh, fuck.
Ohhh fuck.
