It was one thing when I thought he was a special snowflake of a human. Knowing he’s like me—that he’s vampiric in nature and therefore capable of forming a bond—now it feels like I’m playing with matches in dry, dry brush. My entire lifestyle, everything I’ve built for myself, is being threatened. One wrong move and all of it goes up in smoke. I’ll be chained to him forever, without even knowing what kind of vampire he truly is.
Who will he become when his nature fully awakens? How much will he change? Is stiff, arrogant, ranked-vampire pride inherited within our blood, or is it learned? Nature or nurture? I can’t possibly know right now.
I like Jae. A lot. He’s hilarious and kind, intelligent, insightful and grounded… endearingly anxious, brazen and warm. Beautiful. If that wasn’t enough, he tastes amazing. I like him. But I can’t give up my freedom for him. Or anyone. Not forever.
Twenty-Six
Jae
“Tell me you’re not shagging him then.”
Cyrus is pacing back and forth in front of me. I’m sitting on my bed, my back pressed into the wall and my legs folded in a sort of Zen yoga position. It’s not helping me feel relaxed.
“Well?” He pauses, staring at me. Technically, I’m not sleeping with Junichi anymore. He just told me we can’t.
“I’m not,” I say simply.
Cyrus draws back. “So you haven’t? Ever?”
Well… that’s a different question, isn’t it? I dodge it.
“Will you please relax?” I ask. “Why have you come here to shout at me? Ever since I’ve moved here you’ve been completely unsupportive. Even before that, you make fun of my career and research, my sexuality—”
“I was just having a laugh with you about those things. Don’t be sensitive—”
“But it’s not funny, Cyrus.”
I hate it when people say, “Don’t be sensitive.” Such a twat thing to say. To me it reads, “Oh, don’t be an actual complex, living and breathing person with feelings, different experiences and perspectives than my own. Just accept that I’m an insensitive arsehole, will you?” People are horrid.
“That’s what I’m telling you,” I say. “You’ve been even more of a knobhead about me living here—but I always support you. In becoming a dentist, in getting engaged with Pippa… when you decided to do that fucking ‘juice cleanse’ for thirty days and you looked like a walking advert to help feed starving children.”
Cyrus folds his arms, pouting. “Prat.”
“Can you just be supportive of me—for once? Our lives… We’re changing. You’re getting married soon. I’m learning a lot about myself here, and it’s good for me. Can you please respect that and not scream at me all the time?”
Exhaling a heavy breath, Cyrus stalks toward me and climbs onto the bed. He sits beside me, facing me. His expression is sincere and relaxed for the first time since he’s stepped into my flat.
“I don’t mean to shout at you. I just… I miss you. You weren’t very busy back home, so I could see you or pop into your office anytime and bring you lunch—remember? The number twenty-six pad see ew with fried tofu and extra broccoli?”
I sigh. “I do miss that Thai restaurant.”
“And I miss going to the pub together on Saturday nights. I miss playing footie with you in Port Meadow on Sundays. We talked all the time, Jae, but now you’re here and you’re Doctor Busy, and it’s like I don’t even exist to you anymore… I want you to come back home.”
Cyrus is staring at me and being so sincere that it makes me slightly uncomfortable. Usually everything is rough and tumble with him—a smack on the shoulder or whack in the back of my head. Some snarky, rude comment that makes me want to punch him. I don’t know if he realizes how close to my face he is. I want to lean back, but I don’t want to trigger him into being a knob again, so I shift my gaze down from his face. “I can’t come back home. I have a contract with the hospital, and… I like it here. I enjoy being busy, and I like my patients and the people I’m meeting. You and Pippa are starting a life together. You don’t need me to be your third wheel—and I don’t want to be.”
I think I’ve made my point when a comfortable silence settles between us. That is, until Cyrus blinks his chocolate eyes at me. “You don’t have to be.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“It can just be me and you, if you want that?”
Now I’m blinking at him, utterly lost. I’m about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about, but before I can, he leans in and kisses me. Straight on. Cyrus’s mouth on mine. It’s like I’ve received a jolt of electricity, because I jump back and away from him. He’s still leaning toward me and my eyes are wild. “What in God’s name are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Why?”
“Because… because I fancy you, Jae. I like you.”
Now we’re both staring at each other—Cyrus like he’s just told me the sky is blue, and me like he’s suddenly sprouted a second head.
“What?”
“Is this really so shocking for you?” Cy scowls. “Even my bloody little sister saw it when we were still lads. My father had a vicious talk with me about it when we were teenagers… and once you’d finally left for Japan, Pippa said, ‘My biggest competition is gone.’”
I shake my head. “No. Cy, you are not gay.”
“What if I am?”
“You’re not.”
“Maybe I am, Jae… I’m gay for you.”
“Oh—oh Christ. Oh no—”
“What?” Cyrus says, his brows tight. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s awful.”
