I go completely still. What do I need protection from? Vampires? But isn’t he one? Why? Why me?
I’m about to tell Alek that we can go somewhere else to discuss this but Casey beats me to the punch.
“Yes, please come in. I’d like to know what happened.”
My foot scuffs backward on the floor without my permission. Bile and a single, frantic word—no—rise in my throat, choking me.
It all hits me at once, a sickening collision of warnings. A dozen browser tabs flashing the same rule. Grandma’s voice, low and serious for once. The gruff stranger on the phone. Three different sources, one single, absolute law I’d dismissed as folklore.
You never, ever, invite a vampire into your home.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A LITTLE CHEESY BUT STILL GRATE
Kallie turns to me, and the color drains from her face, leaving her freckles scattered like dust against her skin. It’s a look I’ve never seen on her before, not in two years of living together. She looks genuinely, bone-deep scared.
Is this about the other night? The fight at the pizza place? I’ve been trying to frame it as a drug deal gone wrong, something manageable. But her terror is too big for that. When the cop—Alek—says he can help, I invite him in. If we’re caught in some kind of mob turf war, we need all the help we can get.
Trouble just finds her, I swear.
And somehow I always end up trying to stand between the two.
Alek pushes in, stepping a single foot past the door and stopping to stare down at Kallie.
Not creepy at all.
She turns back around, her mouth pinching as she raises her chin to stare the tall man down.
She’s so fucking fearless.
Or stubborn.
With Kallie, the two are usually the same thing.
And she’s totally attracting the wrong attention at the moment if the way the tall fucker’s eyes light up with heat is anything to go by.
I’ll be the first to admit just how hot my roommate is.
I’ve been crushing on her way too fucking long, and I’ve seen the version of her no one else gets—hair down, laughing so hard she can’t breathe, completely herself.
This guy never stood a chance. He’s already caught in her orbit, just like everyone else. Just like me. And the way he’s looking at her right now... he knows it, too. It’s like watching a magnet pull iron filings.
But she’s not his.
And I’ll be damned if I let him think he might have a chance.
So I do what any guy would do when someone is clearly making his roommate uncomfortable—I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her away from him and flush against my own body.
Protective. Situational. Completely explainable. Yep.
But if it gives him a different message? So be it.
Best part? Kallie lets me without putting up a fight.
Alek, though, doesn’t react the way I think he will.
Instead of taking the hint, he leans down and smells—actually sniffs—Kallie’s hair.
