Aidan has been warned about the dangers of being with a human. His people live on the edges of society, in the shadows and alleys. And one day, if he's willing to submit to the birthright ceremony, he'll lead the next generation to continued wealth...
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Her dorm is a shoebox. Of course, I already knew that, but being forced to sit in here in her rolling desk chair and watch her sleep is a fucking nightmare. The chair isn't comfortable enough for me to sleep, and climbing into bed with her is so far from an option it's comical.
Touching her would be like lighting a match and tossing it at kindling without being sure how much gasoline has been poured on the lot. Whoosh!
A few weeks ago, that might have been an appealing thought, but I've been rethinking my previous recklessness. If I'd stayed away from Emmerson like everyone told me, neither of us would be in this position now. Both of us are in danger—me because I've become so weak and her for who-the-hell-knows why. Somebody out there knows, but so far no one is running forward to fill me in.
I sense she's awake before she says anything, and I pop open an eye from where I've been pretending to sleep.
"That can't be comfortable." She peeks out from the edge of the covers, half her face barely visible.
Something in the vicinity of my heart contracts at her sleepy adorableness. Not a normal reaction for me, and I file it away in the things that shouldn't happen around Emmerson mental file that's taking up more room in my brain than it should.
"Nope," I agree. "It's not."
"You did say you were going to stay right beside me." She pats the bed.
"Can't do that."
"It's pretty comfortable over here."
"That is a tiny bed, and I am a big man."
"It'd be cozy."
She's going to push, and so I decide to push back. "You've got a boyfriend."
She tugs the covers down and then flops over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I tried with him, I really did."
"Hmm." I don't know enough about human or pseudo-human relationships to comment, but it was pretty clear from everything I was feeling through Emmerson that he wasn't doing it for her on any level. Can't say I was disappointed about that.
"You don't believe me?" She turns back on her side to face me.
"I'm just here to keep you alive. We don't need to braid each other's hair."
"If all those memory gaps are you, we've spent a lot of time together."
I grimace but I don't say anything in response. Not like I can defend myself. I did what I wanted, and now I'm suffering the consequences in a rolling chair that's too small and uncomfortable to be even marginally functional. At the end of these four weeks, I'll be sleep deprived and excessively horny, but hopefully we'll all still be alive.
"Don't you have class soon?"
"And you know my schedule," she says, flinging the covers back. "Serious stalker vibes."
