“Doesn’t everyone like pizza?”
“Even immortal vampires, it seems.” My stomach growled.
“Let’s eat.” He took the food to the table near the window, then went through a doorway that I’d never used. “Would you like a beer?”
“Yes, please.” I opened the pizza box and inhaled the aroma. Delicious.
Grey walked back to the table with two frosty beer bottles in his hands. He was the best-looking thing I’d ever seen.
I took mine gratefully and sat, then grabbed a slice of pizza. Grey joined me and clinked his beer bottle against mine.
“To your friends,” he said. “We’ll find a way to heal them.”
“To Mac and Seraphia.”
We ate in comfortable silence. It should have been like a date. Pizza and beer and a beautiful view.
Instead, it was weird as hell. Not so much the energy with him, but the threat that hung over us. It tugged at me, making me anxious and worried.
“Miranda will let us know soon about the ingredients,” he said, clearly trying to calm my nerves by reminding me of our forward progress on our problems.
“Yeah. Great.” I looked at the clock, shocked to see that it was nearly four a.m. The time change from Chicago had thrown us all off. “I should head home.”
“Sleep here tonight. In the spare room.”
I swallowed hard, wanting to take him up on his offer, yet knowing it was a bad idea.
“It’s an entirely separate room,” he said. “And it will save you travel time.”
“That would be helpful.” And I was exhausted. “Do you mind if I get a shower?” I’d stayed in an en suite bedroom the last time.
?
?Of course.”
“Thanks.” I polished off the last of my pizza and stood, grabbing the beer that I hadn’t finished. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nodded. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
“No, thank you.” I turned and all but ran for the bedroom, disappearing into the quiet silence.
The shower was divine, as it had been last time. I finished off the beer while standing beneath the hot spray, replaying the day in my head. By the time I stepped out, I was clean, but no more relaxed. Despite the late hour, the idea of sleep was absurd right now. I was too keyed up. Too worried.
Maybe a book would help.
I put my clothes back on and went to the door, listening carefully for any sign of movement in the living room. There was none, so I peeked my head out.
Silence.
Grey must have gone to his room.
I strode into the living room and went to the bookshelf, feeling like I was poking around his private space.
I was, actually.
And I did want a book . . . but not as badly as I wanted a look at his collection.
Honestly, I was snooping.