Somehow, I doubted it.
"Mom... was there a reason you called?" I glanced at the pizza box Warin had set down on my kitchen counter. A promising scent of melted cheese emanated from it. "I'm starving, and the food is getting cold."
"Aunt Edna is having a big family Thanksgiving meal this year, but because Aunt Gretchen is on call until late afternoon, we’re doing a dinner. I’m counting on you this year, Olivia—I’ve already told the family you’re coming.”
I made the mistake of groaning out loud.
“Olivia, you haven't been home for Thanksgiving for three years! It’s important that you come this year—Grandma has some news…" I instantly felt ashamed over the rush of happiness that went through me when the thought that the news might be that she was suffering from some fatal illness popped into my head. "… and it has started to get noted that you’ve not been back in Denver in ages." She paused briefly. "Shall I tell Edna that you’ll be coming on your own? Again? Or is there a gentleman you would like to bring? You know, your cousin Kathy has just gotten engaged, and to such a handsome young man."
It is incredible what motherly pressure and years of growing up in a toxic environment can do to your sense of rationality.
"No, I'll bring someone," I heard myself say.
"Oh, good. I shall see you on the twenty-third. Seven p.m. sharp—don’t be late. Bye now!”
I stared at my phone after she'd hung up. How did she do that? How did she wrap me around her little finger from a thousand goddamn miles away?
"Your mother?"
Warin’s soft voice made me cringe, the frustration with myself for falling for my mother’s manipulation taking a backseat to my more immediate mortification.
Groaning, I hid my face behind my phone-free hand. “Please, just don’t say anything, okay? I was really, really drunk last night, and I am sorry for being… ya know—“ Horny as fuck. “—out of line. I get handsy when I drink too much, and you got caught in the crossfire. So would you please, please do me a tremendous favor and pretend like it never happened? ‘Cause if you don’t, I think I have to murder you and bury your corpse out back, and then I’ll undoubtedly get myself arrested and it would just be a whole nightmare, okay?”
Warin’s chuckle made me glance up from my hand.
"As you wish.” He held up a hand in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t want you to get arrested.”
I exhaled, grateful he was a much better person than me, and then shifted my attention to the pizza box. “So…?”
“I thought you might be hungry. I’m told humans enjoy this kind of meal after consuming alcohol the previous night.” The look on his face said he found the idea revolting, but I could have kissed him regardless. I didn’t, though, because after last night, I wasn’t gonna risk him getting the wrong idea.
“Fuck yes, you’re the absolute best! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I dove for the box, and practically drooled at the sight of the beautiful deep-pan Hawaiian pizza inside. No idea how he got lucky enough to guess my favorite toppings, not that I cared. Right then, all I wanted was to stuff my mouth with delicious pineappley goodness. “You better look away—this is gonna get gross.”
I grabbed the first slice with my hands, not bothering with such banalities as a plate, or even sitting down. Moaning with food-pleasure I shoved slice after slice in, leaning over the kitchen counter like a feral dog.
It wasn’t until I was in the process of licking my fingers after having devoured the final slice of pizza that I realized that Warin—the giant asshole—was leaning against the kitchen sink, watching me like I was some kind of zoo attraction. His expression was a mix between surprise and amusement.
“Not cool,” I snapped, though I couldn’t muster up the level of anger such betrayal really required. He had brought my hungover ass pizza after I’d all but molested him the night before.
“I’ve seen newborn vampires with less ferocious hunger,” he said, that teasing smile still dancing at the corner of his lips. “Do you feel better now?”
I snorted and patted my new food-baby. “Yeah. Just need to lie down for a bit.”
I disappeared into the bedroom to get my duvet. When I returned, dragging it along after me, Warin was already sitting on the couch watching the same channel I’d had on while talking to my mom.
I flopped down next to him and, not waiting for him to approve, placed my feet in his lap and swung the duvet over me. “Just unmute it and change the channel if you want. I’m too tired to do anything meaningful.”
Warin didn’t touch the remote. He just leaned back and, after a moment’s hesitation, rested a hand on top of my duvet-covered feet. “What did your mother want?”
"To guilt-trip me, mostly. And force-invite me to fly home for Thanksgiving.” Why, oh, why hadn't I come up with a quick lie about having to work? I’d have to dig into my savings to afford the last-minute flight and motel booking, and for what? The privilege of playing the family scapegoat for a night?
The vampire watched me closely, the blank expression on his face somewhat guarded. "And you will be bringing a… guest?"
I groaned involuntarily. "No! I don't know why I said that! Or yes, I do know why I said that—it's because I'm weak and still let myself get manipulated by those horrible, cold, unreasonable…" There just wasn't a strong enough finish for that sentence, so I just flailed a hand for emphasis.
"You have a strained relationship to your family?" he asked, voice soft.
I buried my face in my hands and pushed all the issues from my upbringing down, as I'd made a habit of doing since I left my mother's house at the age of eighteen. "I'd really rather not to talk about it right now, okay?"
"As you wish." His hand gently patted my foot, leaning back against the couch. A tension I hadn’t noticed before seemed to ease out of his shoulders as he let his gaze flicker to the muted TV.
It was in that moment, while I looked at the man whose arms I’d felt so safe in last night, that an idea struck like lightning from a clear sky.
“So, er… Warin?”
"Hmm?" His gaze slid back to me.
"What are you doing for Thanksgiving…?”
If he knew where I was going with this, he pretended not to. "I usually don’t celebrate human holidays.”
“…Warin?”
“Yes?”
"Do you remember that horrible vampire party you’re going to make me go to tomorrow?”
The corner of his mouth twitched in response to my pleading tone. “I do.”
I narrowed my eyes a little, trying to imagine him in a turkey sweater, but the image just wouldn’t form. "Is there any possible situation where you would maybe consider…?”
“Consider what, Liv?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Would you go with me to Denver to this Thanksgiving dinner?”