Crave (Crave Series)

And do my best to ignore the fact that holding her feels better than anything has in the entire hundred years of my existence.

“Vampires don’t metabolize sugar the same way regular humans do,” I inform him with a grin. “Hence, no sugar shock.”

“Now look what you’ve done,” Mekhi interjects. “You’ve created a research monster. She’s obsessed.”

“What did one bone say to the other bone?”

He eyes me warily, but his shoulders relax—and so does the rest of him. “I don’t think I want to know.”

I ignore him. “We have to stop meeting at this joint.”

He groans. “That was…”

“Fabulous?” I tease.

He shakes his head. “Really, really awful.”

Me: Favorite ice cream flavor?

Jaxon: Don’t have one

Me: Because you like them all???

Me: Which, btw, is the only acceptable answer to not having a favorite

Jaxon: I think we both know there are a million different reasons I’m unacceptable and ice cream choice barely makes the list

Jaxon: I’d say lucky you, but…

Me: What, falling out of a tree not lucky enough for you?

Jaxon: Do you KNOW what lucky means?

The laugh hits me so unexpectedly that I nearly snort. Then slap a hand over my mouth in horrified amusement, even though there’s no one around to hear.

Jaxon: What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?

What? A joke? From the perennially serious Jaxon Vega? I can’t answer back fast enough.

Me: I have no idea.

Jaxon: Frostbite

I laugh out loud, because who is this Jaxon? And how do I keep him around?

“And aren’t you the one who was just warning me to stay as far away from Jaxon as I could get?”

“Yeah, but that was before.”

“Before what?” I demand.

“Before I saw how he looks at you.” She closes her eyes and makes a sound very close to the one she made when Jaxon smiled at her. “I wish Cam would look at me like that.”

“You want your boyfriend to look at you like he’s an arrogant prick used to getting his own way?”

“Yeah, he pretty much does that already,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I want him to look at me like it physically hurts him not to be touching me.”

“Jaxon doesn’t look at me like that.” I’m beginning to think it’s how I look at him, though.

“Does this work, Jaxon?”

“It’s perfect, thanks.”

She glows under his praise, and it’s all I can do not to make a teasing comment. But seriously, if she’s not careful, she’s going to turn into one of his minions. So much for you can tell me how he hurt you. Traitor.

“I sprained my ankle,” I snark. “I’m not dying of consumption.”

“Yeah, well, the night is young.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” I glare at him.

“It means you’ve been here three days, and this is the second time I’ve had to get you out of trouble.”

“Seriously? You’re going to hold me responsible for a windstorm now?”

“I am.” He wraps his hand around my calf and gently but firmly eases my leg over the edge of the bed so he can look at my ankle. “You didn’t see Macy falling out of her tree, did you?”

“Put me down before you hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” The eyebrow arch I spent way too much time thinking about last night is back. “Are you trying to insult me?”

“I’m trying to get you to let go of me. You can’t carry me all the way back to—”

“Grace?” he interrupts.

I wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, I answer, “What?” in what could, perhaps, be described as not the nicest tone.

“Shut up.”