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“Coffee,” he grunted. His face buried in her neck, his hands holding her in place, he mumbled sleepily. “I need coffee.”
“Make Jasper bring it.”
He chuckled, and she could feel the sound reverberate through her body. Then he lifted her again, depositing her next to him, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“You stay here,” he told her softly. “I’ll be back.”
Fey did no such thing, of course. After a few minutes alone in bed, she grew bored and restless, unable to fall back asleep. Tossing the sheets aside, she grabbed another of Alastair’s shirts from his closet and put it on, venturing out to find him.
The house was full of delicious smells, she noticed immediately. Coffee, yes, but also something sweet and mouthwatering. Something she wanted, immediately.
“You were supposed to stay in bed,” came a growling voice from the kitchen. She entered to find him in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
Fey shrugged, sitting down on a barstool at the kitchen island. “I got bored.”
Alastair grumbled but didn’t argue more. Instead, he deposited a fresh cup of coffee in front of her.
“I’m making waffles,” he said.
Fey couldn’t help but smile. “Alastair… it has to be the middle of the day by now.”
“I don’t care,” he told her. “I’m making waffles.”
Someone must have picked up on the other end of the phone because Alastair’s voice changed immediately, all warmth and teasing leaving as though it had never been there in the first place.
“Ferus,” he said in a gruff voice. “Congratulations on your promotion to assistant owner of The Last Drop. Effective immediately. You start tonight, and you’re in charge for the next few evenings. I won’t be coming in for a while.”
Fey looked around at his home, smiling and taking a sip of coffee.
“No, it doesn’t come with a fucking pay raise, you greedy little shit.” Alastair balanced the phone against his shoulder as he juggled with grabbing a plate and an empty bowl. “Fine, fuck, fifteen percent raise. And if you do well enough, twenty percent and I don’t break your fucking legs for asking me for more money. Do you have any idea how much I already pay you?”
The coffee was hot and strong. Fey added a little sugar and poured a dollop of cream into it from a small pitcher on the counter.
“Okay, good. Yeah. Ok…” Alastair rolled his eyes. “I’m hanging up now. You deal with that shit. Okay. Don’t fucking call me unless it’s an emergency. I fucking mean it, Ferus. Good.”
He ended the call, tossing his phone on the counter.
“Why do you have windows here, anyway?” Fey asked, looking around at the thick blackout curtains hung over the massive windows all around his apartment. They were the only things protecting him from the painful sunlight outside, and while sun likely couldn’t kill a Vampire as powerful as he was, she was sure it would leave a painful burn.
Alastair turned from his cooking to look at her, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.
“I like the view,” he said.
“What view?” she gestured at the curtains.
“The city doesn’t disappear when the sun goes down, Fey,” Alastair explained, a deep amusement in his voice. “I like the view of the city at night, Witchling.”
“Oh.” She felt like an idiot. But a moment later, when he placed a full plate of waffles with whipped cream, and a bowl of fresh strawberries in front of her, she forgot all about it.
“Eat,” he said, walking around behind her, and leaning over to plant a kiss on her neck. She shivered.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” she asked, her voice teasing.
Alastair reached over her, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and dipping it in her whipped cream. He popped it into his mouth and chewed.
“There,” he said. “Now, you eat.”
Fey rolled her eyes. Still, she picked up her fork and cut herself a piece of waffle with plenty of whipped cream and syrup.
