Bane of My Existence

Chapter 18

Ever since Kinsey returned home after her little excursion on the East Side, her stomach had been twisting into knots. Many things about her afternoon bothered her. From that horrific display by the shifters, to what Carissa had said to her, and James' sudden and convenient appearance.

Something was going on in this city. Something she annoyingly wasn't privy to, despite the people she knew.

Thankfully, Sabrina was around to distract her and ask her all kinds of questions about her weekend. Her friend sat on the couch, bundled in a blanket, while she watched and listened as Kinsey got ready for tonight.

"Come on, babe, you can't disappear for a weekend with your super hot, super rich boyfriend, and only give me 'it was amazing' as an answer. That's so unfair! Give me something juicy. The dirty deets!"

Kinsey poked her head out of the bathroom, Sabrina was fully lain over the couch, arm swept over her forehead as if she had swooned. "Damon certainly knows what he's doing."

"That's not dirty!"

Kinsey waved her off then went back to brushing her hair. "You're an author. Use your imagination."

She groaned dramatically. "Gah! I need to find myself a rich, hot man who will fuck my brains out all weekend. . . Is Damon's friend single?"

"Kalem? I don't know."

"Can you ask for me? Please?" She rolled onto her knees on the couch, holding her hands up to her as Kinsey passed by for her suitcase. "Pretty, pretty please!"

"If it comes up," Kinsey promised, feeling silly standing before her begging friend. "How do I look?"

"Bangable."

Kinsey rolled her eyes. She was looking for something along the lines of "too casual" or "maybe try a different pair of pants." She didn't have a form fitting dress to impress Damon with tonight, so she had settled for leggings, a long sleeved shirt to hide her bruise, and a cute cardigan and hoped it was enough.

"Babe," Sabrina said seriously, "you look amazing. Not that you'll be wearing those for long."

Kinsey smiled in thanks. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

"I hope so. If I don't know how to use my words, what good am I? Now, go have fun. See you in the morning."

The drive to Damon's wasn't too far from the University District; his building sat nearly on the exact opposite side of the river from her. The doorman, Norman, let her in with a knowing grin and she flushed a deep red, very noticeable in the elevator mirror.

She stood in front of his door and took a moment to calm her racing heart--and to pray this was the right door. She had left in a rush this morning and wasn't a hundred percent sure this was his apartment. When the door opened, she really began to doubt she had the right place.

A man as tall as a Damon answered the door; he had the same dark brown hair as Damon, but his green eyes were paler and more rueful. His five o'clock shadow dusted along his jaw, making him quite handsome and giving him a broader look to take away from his slim form.

All she could do was blink at him. This had to be the right place. He looked too much like Damon to be a coincidence.

"You're not Damon," she said stupidly.

"No," he grunted in return. His eyes trailed over her dispassionately.

"You're his brother," she guessed, though she tried to sound confident in the statement. She'd met people like him before: they took one look at her and decided she wasn't worth their time. She liked proving them wrong--if they didn't walk away first.