LoveBites || #NONC2022

3.1 Stupid Questions

Regardless, I was curious.

And, as it turned out, Dane was too.

"How did you know I was at the gallery?" he asked.

"I didn't."

He frowned with such disbelief that I couldn't stop a breath of laughter from escaping my chest. I was sitting in the back of a tinted-out car, en route to a second and unknown location, with a vampire who was accusing me of stalking of him. Admittedly, I'd never read a medical textbook that provided the exact technique for handling this sort of situation, but I assumed humor was probably the healthiest coping option.

"I swear!" I said, raising my hands. "How would I have known you where there?"

Dane raised an eyebrow. "I texted you."

I'd assumed the pinging from my phone had been Anna, but as I checked my unread texts, in addition to her replies, a flurry were from an unknown number. They were innocuous enough. A very wordy, 'Hey it's Dane...What are you up to tonight? I'm at an event downtown until 10 if you're free later.'

"You didn't mention the gallery." I frowned. And then realized that Dane was an arrogant bastard. "Did you think I've been crawling through downtown looking for you?"

With a guilty cough, Dane ran his hand through his hair again. And then it made sense. Kind of. This gorgeous vampire-thing had been hoping that I was doing exactly that. I couldn't help it: my lips curved. "Were you booty texting me?"

"I—" He paused. Dane didn't blush—I wondered if that was physically possible—but he looked away with the tiniest flash of embarrassment in his eyes. "Maybe."

"Do you have follow up sex with all your meals?" I asked, wry. And then I blinked. It had happened so slowly, so easily, but I realized that it was the old-Kate speaking through my mouth. Unshakable. Fearless. Funny. The warm rush of confidence made it easy to take pity on the flustered vampire. "I've been helping Anna with her catering company. Beauty and the Beet, remember? She wanted photos of the gallery for a dinner she's doing."

The car made another turn. In the pause, that event, its bizarre menu, became an itch in my mind. Why was Dane at the gallery? Why were the requested foods so rich in iron? I hadn't paid close attention to the crowd beyond its threshold, but they'd been just as glamorous and inhumanly attractive as the blond creature across from me.

"Is that a—" It still felt ridiculous to say out loud. "—vampire gallery?"

Dane shrugged. "It's owned by a vampire," he said, "but it's not a vampire gallery. It features human artists too. And you don't need to say 'vampire' like it's a dirty word."

I bristled a little. "I'm not saying it like it's dirty word."

The slant of his eyebrow mocked me.

"I'm not!" I protested. "If anything, I think you should give me more credit for how well I'm handling this situation. You've barely explained anything."

"I did give you credit."

"Not enough."

At that, Dane smiled. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. The blue of his eyes were a shade darker—not the blacked out bath-salts-going-to-bite-me-in-a-bistro-courtyard darker—but something decidedly intimate. I flushed. "Dr. Bishop," he purred. "You're doing a remarkable job."

"Thank you," I said automatically. "And as for an explanation?"

"What questions can I answer for you?"

My brain blanked. I blurted something out before my thoughts could catch up with my tongue.

"Do you really work in finance?"