“This is Imani’s apartment, so that’s for her to decide.” I held up my hand when Paige went to speak again. “Stop. I’m not going to talk like she’s not standing right there.”
Paige blinked, looking both surprised and impressed by that comment. She turned to Imani. “Make the right decision, sweetie. You know what that is.” She shot me a narrow-eyed look as she swept past and disappeared down the hallway.
Before Imani had a chance to speak, I pushed my way inside. I liked her apartment. There was something welcoming about it. Maybe it was all the paintings and smart use of colour. Anyone who didn’t know Imani would take one look at the large space and think she was a messy, disorganised person. I’d thought the same at first.
Her coffee table was covered in magazines, drawings, pens, remote controls, and other bits and bobs. Books, DVDs, and CDs were scattered everywhere. There was little order in her kitchen. Her bedroom…well, I wasn’t sure if she made much use of her wardrobe at all because her clothes always seemed to be piled on the armchair next to it.
As I’d come to know Imani, I’d learned that she wasn’t an untidy person with no sense of organisation. It was that she found order in chaos and confusion. She had a system of order; it just differed from that of anyone I knew.
“You’re the second person to barge in here tonight,” she grumbled, unsurprisingly tired after having overexerted herself. We’d get to that soon.
“I’m not good at respecting people’s boundaries.” Especially hers, because I wanted nothing at all between us.
“Yeah, if I hadn’t already known that it would have been perfectly obvious when you barged in. So, why did you?”
“I wanted to see you.” I shrugged. “You were upset. I didn’t like it.” I reached for the object tucked into the back of my jeans. “And I brought you something.” She blinked at the object I held out to her. “Take it. I had Fletcher register it to your Amazon account.”
Accepting the brand new Kindle, she swallowed hard. “You didn’t have to do this. I would’ve bought a new one when I had the chance.”
“Now you don’t have to.”
“That’s really sweet of you.” She held the Kindle against her chest. “Thank you.”
“You going to tell me what things you didn’t say earlier about your nest?”
She rubbed at her forehead. “I’m actually not in the mood to talk about my past. Perhaps I could interest you in a smart-ass comment instead.”
I advanced on her. “Imani, I know enough about your prick of a Sire to know he needs to die. Slowly. Painfully. There’s more to the story. Tell me what you didn’t say earlier.”
“So you get to be a closed book but I have to tell you everything?”
“I just want you to share with me.”
“Share? All right, how about I keep the pin and you have the grenade? Sound fair?”
That was one thing about Imani—when she was tired, she could be snippy as hell. Still, I would have pushed her to share if she didn’t look so exhausted and vulnerable. “We’ll postpone that conversation. You look ready to drop. I’m surprised you’re conscious.”
Her lips flattened. “Blame that bitch from the bar.”
“No, baby, I’m blaming you. You worked yourself too hard during training, even though you knew you were already weak. It was a wonder you didn’t pass out. Don’t do that again.”
“Don’t work hard?”
I curled my hand around her chin. “Don’t play with me, baby. You know exactly what I mean. If there was some kind of surprise attack tonight, you would be no good to yourself. You’d be off your game, and that could lead to you being hurt. None of that is okay with me.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re dangerously exhausted.”
The amber tint in her irises flared. “I’m fine.”
“You’re lying, and you’re shit at it.”
She stepped back, breaking my hold on her chin and flashing me that oh-so-haughty look I knew well. “I can so lie. And if I want your opinion, I’ll give you some forms to fill out, all right?”
“Baby, you need to drop that little attitude.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, because it makes my fucking cock throb.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can’t say I know many guys who would—” She quieted as I closed the distance between us and put a finger to her mouth.
I spoke softly. “I don’t want to hear about other guys.” And I didn’t want to be compared to them, because I’d definitely come up short. “I am who I am. Fucked up in a lot of ways. Too many ways.” She deserved better, but she was stuck with me. “I’d change if I could.”
She frowned. “You don’t need to change. You’re not a bad person.”