Page 22 of Blades and Bone

He needed something familiar to grab hold of before he drowned.

“You don’t need human blood, and the rare steaks are excellent. And your phone will be cleaned by the Reids, checked by my people, and then returned. You will survive a day or two without it.”

He wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he was going to survive at all. Did he want this to work? What if it didn’t? It wouldn’t change anything.

What if it did? He remembered the way Brodie had looked at him, teeth buried in Hamish’s wrist, pupils widening, blotting out the golden hazel of his irises, as lust took hold.

He remembered the hot taste of Brodie’s blood on his tongue and wished he didn’t because his blood responded, filling his dick and quickening his pulse. He didn’t want Brodie to notice. This was not a path he should’ve started down. He pinched his thigh, using the pain as a distraction. “And what am I supposed to do all day?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat around and done next to nothing…probably when he was still at school, and even then, he would have been playing video games or watching TV, or surfing.

“It’s a resort…enjoy yourself for a few days.”

“But not too much, right?” No holiday flings. Why couldn’t they treat this as a hookup instead of playing it safe? It would be far more interesting, and it was possible to learn quite a bit about someone without clothes to hide behind.

“Not too much, as I like the way your blood tastes and your skin smells.”

Was he being serious? Hamish glanced at him, but Brodie’s eyes were closed. “You’re a dick.”

“No, I am protecting both our interests after a difficult day. I suggest you start considering what you want this to look like. Perhaps you can put some thought into it tomorrow.” Brodie was silent for a couple of heartbeats. “Remember where your loyalties lie as an Ashby, and there won’t be any problems.”

“I don’t want problems.” He had enough of them, and he didn’t know what half of them were yet. “Will your sister want to see me again?”

“Do you need to see her? If you feel I am being unfair, it is well within your right.”

Brodie wasn’t being unfair. He was being reasonable, and Hamish hated it. How could he rail against the unfairness when Brodie was inviting him in and making him feel welcome?

Was that why he kept pushing, to find a crack in Brodie’s cool exterior and press until he lashed out, which would give him reason to fight and vent his frustration? “I don’t need to see her.”

He didn’t know what he needed to do, and that was the source of most of his problems.

Chapter Twelve

Brodie had left after breakfast to work or continue discussions with the Reids—Hamish had no idea, and he wasn’t invited. He’d gone through the kitchen cupboards hoping to kill some time by cooking something, anything, but the kitchen appeared to be for decoration only. There were a few boxes of cereal and rolled oats for porridge, a very nice selection of alcohol and fuck all else.

It was clear that Brodie always ordered room service and had helpfully left the menu out so Hamish could order. While he appreciated the convenience of takeout after a long shift, that wasn’t his problem today. He needed something to do, and he couldn’t even doomscroll until his eyeballs fell out.

There didn’t appear to be a way for him to order groceries, so he couldn’t even order with the plan of cooking later in the day or tomorrow. That was something he needed to resolve the next time he saw Brodie.

Since this was now his house, he spent an hour going through every single cupboard in the kitchen and then the living room on the pretext of learning where everything was kept, but mostly because it gave him something to do while he drank his second cup of coffee. He was pretty sure that Brodie would have prepared for his arrival, so there wouldn’t be anything particularly exciting.

There were assorted books, DVDs, and even a few music CDs, one of which was probably the first album Brodie had ever bought. He was definitely a Kylie girly since he had three of her CDs. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from Brodie’s music collection, but it wasn’t that. It didn’t take him long to find the CD player and pop a disc in.

The only room left was the bedroom. There wouldn’t be any Ashby family secrets in there, but the odds were still good that he’d find something worth talking about. Who didn’t have a few toys hiding in a drawer, or hidden in the wardrobe?

Fuck…someone was going to pack up his apartment and find more than they wanted to see in his bedroom. If he’d been told, he would’ve boxed everything up ready to be moved, saving someone a whole lot of work they didn’t want to do.

Who would do the packing? One of his cousins? A brother? He’d rather die. Not that he was going to see any of them again. Nor did he want to ask Garrick to take care of it. His uncle getting a firsthand look into his private life was worse than one of his brothers getting their hands on his silicone friends.

He started in the wardrobe, opening drawers and, unsurprisingly, found that Brodie had put his clothes away neatly folded, even his underwear, which appeared to be one hundred percent boring and practical.

Had everything been sanitized for his arrival?

Next, he went through the pockets and pants and jackets, turning up a few business cards, some loose change, a pen, two condoms in foil packets, and a rubber band.

This was tedious. He didn’t bother putting his finds away, leaving them on Brodie’s side of the bed. Brodie would be disappointed if he didn’t do a thorough search, which was exactly why there would be nothing exciting for him to find.

Still, it was part of the process, and he’d expect the same had Brodie suddenly moved into his place. There was nothing under the bed, not even a dust bunny…how often did the cleaners come through? Brodie hadn’t shared that information.