ADDICTED

23

JAMES

I had seen bears. Hell, I was living within proximity of one and had for several weeks now.

Although that didn't make me an expert, I thought this bear and I reached an understanding.

I would not encroach on her territory any more than I already did, so long as she didn't claw through my garage doors to reach the trash receptacles or climb the barrier into the courtyard.

As long as we maintained these boundaries, I would leave my yard open for her to wander through. I understood and even respected the fact that my property was home to her long before it was anyone else's.

Apparently, she spotted the hole in the agreement that I missed. The part that meant she left me alone on my daily runs.

She always minded her business up until this point.

If I happened to pass her, I widened my path to give her a large berth. She occasionally glanced at me, but she paid me any mind or tried to follow me.

Here I was, jogging through the darkening woods, ruminating over Leah's refusal to commit to living with me. I shivered at the coolness of the evening air.

Should have brought a jacket, I thought to myself.

It was then that I heart a grunting noise that drew me from my headspace.

Peeking over my shoulder, I saw the big black bear trotting after me. Our eyes locked and she lowered her head.

Was it just me or did her pace quicken?

"Fuck," I sputtered.

Taking a sharp right, I went off the trail and headed straight back to the house. I was no expert, but I knew bears could run pretty fucking fast.

My blood pummeled against my veins all through my body. The feeling of being chased was exhilarating and terrifying. My lungs ached as my legs pounded for more speed.

The house came into view. Its cool tones blended seamlessly with the ash-brown pine trunks and scraggly, wild bushes. When I was within fifty yards, I glanced back.

The bear was gone. My feet stumbled as I quickly slowed.

I looked all around. She had vanished.

I could still hear her labored, starved breaths somewhere behind me, perhaps in the recesses of my mind. Halting, I bent over and sucked in a deep breath.

You aren't totally losing your shit. That bear was there, I told myself.

"I honestly can't remember the last time I saw you gasp for air."

I lifted my head, half expecting Marissa to be standing before me. It wasn't her. The dead truly did stay dead, in my personal experience.

Julia arched a brow at my silence. "Have I outwitted my dearest big brother?"

"No," I cut back. "I'm still out of breath, dimwit."

She chuckled. "So I thought. Where've you been? Your girlfriend is a wretched cook. Don't even consider leaving me with her again. I could hardly tolerate the lies I had to feed her."

"You're abominable."

"I learned all my greatest tricks from you. How dare you insult yourself that way."

Rolling my eyes, I ambled towards the house. I needed a scalding shower and a blistering cup of coffee. Something to settle my damned nerves.

"You know there's only one solution," Julia continued.

"A private chef?" I jested.

"No, you twat. Take the girl out. I actually sort of like this one." She leaned in and pressed herself against my damp side while we walked. "The drama around her is honestly inspiring. Even I can't make this shit up."

I scoffed.

At any moment, a witty comeback would well up in my throat. I would tell her that drama was nothing to be inspired by.

But that didn't seem right, given I didn't entirely believe Leah was uninspiring. So maybe I would tell her that Leah wasn't cloaked in drama like Julia might assume.

But of course that wasn't true either.

Her hand fell solidly against my spine and I coughed from the force of her blow. Julia cackled.

"You are so whipped, brother. If Jarrod thought he couldn't let go of this one, he should see you, right now, tottering for something to silence me."

I shot her a withering look, but she merely smirked. Devilish girl.

"Let's go out," she insisted. "I know you don't particularly like to—vampire and all—but I think it would be good bonding."

"We don't need to bond. You're glued to me enough as it is."

"False." She pointed a manicured black fingernail at me. "I swarm to you, but you do not swarm to me. There's a disconnect. Let's mend our bridges."

A certain level of sass held in her voice that I could never embody or express. Only pathetically roll my eyes at.

"I'll take that as a victory," Julia cheered with a fist pump. "I'm going to tell Leah the good news. Be a good brother, put on something jaw-dropping for your love interest, and we'll go have a merry time."

With a pat on my shoulder, she skipped into the house and disappeared. I wandered in more slowly.

The kitchen was deserted, so I took the liberty of rooting through Leah's makings. The food was all a little burnt.

Leah was usually a punctual person—one of the few traits we shared—so I assumed my sister had in some fashion distracted her. From the food blogging pictures of hers I'd seen, I knew she was rather meticulous when she wanted to be.

I picked up a slender piece of chicken and bit.

Chewy, but doable. The flavor was quite better than expected, bursting with rosemary, garlic, and thyme.

After picking between the leftovers, I put them in containers and stored those in the fridge. I secretly hoped Julia was lying about going out.

Clubs and bars were my enemies. I was the most fucking awkward being in those environments. It was the one place I couldn't be rigid and aloof without seeming like a douche. Leah didn't need to witness that.

She needed to understand how I could impress, dominate and control in every circumstance. I needed her to feel my power and thrive on it.

No such luck.

I showered and immediately once I got out, there was a tentative knock at the door.

"Come in," I spoke. Julia would have just barged in. I walked out of the bathroom with a towel around my waist.

Leah opened it just wide enough to poke her head in. Her eyes swept over me. Those lovely, round cheeks filled with warmth.

"God, sorry." She ducked her gaze to the floor. "Julia asked me to check on you. See where you're at it in your dressing process."

"Rather early, I'd say." I smiled smugly to myself.

"Right . . ." She cleared her throat. "Well, don't take all the time in the world. I could use a stiff drink."

I snorted as she closed the door.

A stiff drink was all she wanted? I had my doubts. Molten-hot excitement seeped into my veins. This woman would succumb to me soon enough.

I thought about her lips, about tasting them while staring into her perilous hazel orbs. I would melt in them. She was the fire I could never escape.

Hell, I'd burn to ashes for her.

Shaking my head, I walked to my closet and selected an outfit. Jeans and a crisp, button-up should do. I dressed in them and gelled my hair back.

Leah planned to go to a bar to satiate her alcohol withdrawal, but I would make sure she left with so much more. My cock stiffened just at the idea.