Page 26 of Blood Sugar

“How about just until things change?” he asked. “For a while. Let me take care of you.” His throat worked, and I desperately wished he would kiss me. My body was humming, needy for him as his blood rushed through my veins. My hands clenched at my sides.

Rowen’s gaze flickered between my eyes and my mouth, making it so much harder to stay in place. Instead, I looked past him at the apartment I was too dazed to take in when he first carried me here.

“Are you hungry for food too?” Rowen asked softly. “I’ll make you something.”

“We should get back to our job,” I replied.

“Sadie,” he rumbled, rocking back onto his heels and rising. I looked away before I could get an eyeful of his crotch.

He disappeared into another room, and I pushed myself up to sit. Already, energy flowed through me, strength pushing out the weakness I’d been living with on and off since I was turned.

So this was his apartment. I could have gone back here with him that first night. The fact I’d ended up here anyway made me huff out a breathy laugh.

A television sat on a long cabinet on the far wall, framed by bookshelves full of squashy mass market-sized novels. The spines looked like a mix of sci-fi and mystery.

The entire place felt like a bachelor pad, but the coziest, most comfortable, and cleanest bachelor pad I could imagine.

“Feeling better?” Rowen asked, reappearing with a bowl in each hand.

Nodding, I accepted it. Gooey, creamy macaroni and cheese filled it to the brim. Rowen settled beside me, stirring his own pasta with his fork.

“So does this count as our lunch break?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I smiled at him.

The tension in his frame relaxed, and he took a big bite of pasta. “If I say yes, can I feed you every night during our break?”

Shaking my head, I grinned at my bowl. “You are ridiculous.”

“Look,” he said, shifting in his seat to face me, one knee coming up. “I was serious. You don’t need to waste any time or effort finding people to feed from. Just drink from me.”

“Rowen,” I protested.

His lips pulled into a smirk that had my heart stuttering. “I promise, I enjoy it. And it’s one less thing you need to worry about.”

Stabbing my fork back into my pasta, I gave him a scrutinizing glare. “Why are you so concerned about me?”

Brows furrowed, he stared back at me. “You’re my employee.”

“Nope, that’s not a good reason. Bosses don’t usually ask their employees to bite them and drink their blood.”

“I guess you would know,” he murmured, that smirk returning. “Maybe I’m just a really nice guy.”

Scoffing, I sat back against the cushion, scooping another bite of macaroni and cheese into my mouth.

“Great. Now finish up your dinner and we can get back to work,” he said, holding up his bowl to show it was empty.

I made a show of rolling my eyes, but the pasta was delicious and I really was hungry, so it didn’t take long for me to eat every last bit.

“Are you sure you had enough blood?” Rowen asked solemnly.

“Rowen, I drank way more than I usually do. I’m probably good for like a week,” I said, shrugging as he took my dirty bowl from my hands.

He twisted back to frown at me. “No. You’ll drink from me every day. You aren’t risking getting weak and hungry like that again.”

“That’s not necessary!”

“Just for a while,” he amended. “Until you aren’t looking so—” He cut off.

“So what?” I asked, rising to my full height and propping a fist on my waist.