Page 46 of Just the Pool Boy at Vampire Mansion

“You’re not as bad as the press make out.” I could give him that much. “Just misunderstood.”

He shifted closer, still leaning against the countertop, then plucked a grape from the bowl and tossed it into his mouth. He crunched and swallowed in a single, smooth movement. “Are you coming around to the idea of me, Freckles?” he asked, eyebrow lifting.

“I may have been too quick to judge you when we met. Doesn’t mean I like you, though. Just so we’re clear.”

He was close enough now that, when I turned my head, I had to look up to meet his eyes. His gaze pulled me in. He didn’t shy away from direct eye contact, he held it, and with it came the sense that he was holding himself back.

Theo smiled. “Better than hating me, which is where we began, huh?”

That smirk. Be still my fluttering heart.

“Ugh, gay eye-fucking.” Bentley’s grating tone announced his unwanted arrival. “Don’t deny it, pool boy is wearing your shirt.”

Theo flashed me the last of that grin, then scowled at his brother as he approached the island counter and us.

Bentley had on a cream business suit, paired with brown loafers and a brown tie. On anyone else, the outfit would have made the wearer look like a used car salesman. On him, with his white-blond hair and pale blue eyes, it worked. If he wasn’t such an asshole, he’d have been stunning.

“Benny, did you have anyone stay last night?” Theo asked.

Bentley frowned, and his lip lifted at the corner in a small sneer. “I wasn’t here. Why, what did I miss?”

“You didn’t have anyone over?” Theo pressed.

“I just said I didn’t.” Bentley’s glower turned cold. “Why do I feel as though you’re both conspiring against me?” He eyed the fruit bowl and the sandwich. “Ugh, human food.”

Theo gave up, rolled his eyes, and came back to my side. “Did you want something or are you here just to annoy me?”

“This is my kitchen too.” To prove it, he made a show of clattering through the kitchen cabinets, looking for something or just making a nuisance of himself.

Theo folded his arms and glared.

The banter between them would have been harmless, if I didn’t know Bentley actively wanted Theo dead.

“Mother wants us around next Friday. Big party. We will project functional family vibes. Can you do that, Theo? Show up and be the distinguished heir and not some emotional washout, not shame us in public like you normally do?”

“Fuck you.”

“Didn’t think so.” Bentley grabbed a semi-transparent bag full of sloshing, dark liquid from the fridge, then a glass from a cabinet. He tore a cap off the bag and filled the glass. Thick, dark red stained the sides.

Theo looked away and stared at a point on the far wall. Then, without a word, he pushed off the kitchen counter and left the room.

Bentley watched him go, raised the glass to his lips, and brought his glare back to me. “You’re wasting your time with him. He’ll be dead soon.”

“I’m just gonna . . . go too.” I took the fruit bowl and sandwich and hurried after Theo, catching up with him on the patio. “You good?”

“Don’t ask me that,” he snapped.

I missed a step, tripping over the venom in his voice.

“Sorry,” he said, fast, his face softening. “I’m a bitch around blood and him.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not.” He stopped outside the pool house and clasped the back of his neck with a sigh. “I don’t want you to think I’m like that. That’s not who I am, I just . . . I can’t stand to look at him sometimes.”

“It’s okay, really.” I handed him the fruit bowl to break the tension.

He took it, smiled sheepishly, and we headed inside the pool house.