Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,25
the counter as Tommy extracted two peppermint tea bags from her jeans pocket.
The kettle was already boiling—the one kitchen appliance I’d purchased. My stomach growled. Peppermint tea would be perfect for my aching head. I felt hungover.
“Yeah,” Tommy replied.
“He’s the owner,” I said.
“Owner of?” Her eyes rounded. “Of Live Right? No way!”
The business name made me mentally flinch. “Not just the realty place. The entire building. His name is Kyros.”
She whispered, “Kyros Sky.”
I sighed. “Yup.”
“Spill, bitch. Did he clear the desk with one powerful stroke and have his wicked way with you?”
What? “Jesus. No!”
“Lame,” she muttered, focusing her attention on the front ties of her black top. The garment would look medieval on anyone else. With dark jeans on, she just managed to look sexy with a capital S.
If only she knew the whole story.
I’d throw her a bone. “He came in while I was bending to get under the desk.”
Tommy didn’t ask why I was bent over, just waved me on.
“He came in. Sat down. And then he said,” I lowered my voice, “I’m sitting. What was the other thing? Oh, yes. Sit and rotate.”
Amusement lit her gaze.
I crossed my arms. “He spun in my office chair.”
“No way. That’s hilarious.”
“Hardly,” I scoffed.
Tommy patted the air. “Calm your farm, I’m on your side.”
Damn straight she was. “Then he started rolling up his sleeves.”
Her face screwed up. “Why?”
“Dunno.”
“Nice forearms?”
“You better believe it. Anyway, he’d pissed me off. I grabbed my bag and went to leave.”
Tommy slid my steeped peppermint tea across the bench toward me. “To be clear, you didn’t have sex on the desk?”
I cradled my drink, drawing forth the smirking image of his face. “I can safely promise never to go there. I’ve never met such an arrogant fucker in my life.”
Taking a sip of her drink, Tommy fluttered her lashes above the rim of the mug. “This Kyros is your boss, yes?”
“Correct.”
She cackled in glee. “This is gonna be epic.”
“No, it won’t,” I snapped.
Tommy lowered her drink, chestnut eyes searching my face.
I blew out a breath. “Sorry. Yesterday tuckered me out, and I’m crabby.”
“Forgiven. I remember starting full-time work. I slept and ate for at least a year. It’ll get better, I swear. Your body just gives up at some point and you forget what relaxation feels like. Plus, it’s the weekend in two days. Starting mid-week has some perks.”
Two days was an insurmountable task when it came to Live Right. I was sticking with the plan I formulated in the bathroom.
“Before I forget. Here’s my old phone.” She drew out a piece of junk I knew well. It was the reason I’d gifted her my phone last Christmas. The phone she’d had was an archaic beast.
“But.” She hesitated, pulling out the sleeker model I’d gifted her.
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare say what you’re about to say.”
Wisely, she slid the sleeker model back into her back jeans pocket and picked up the beast again. “The battery lasts an hour. You can only call and text on it. But it’s something at least. You really worried me last night, Basil.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled again, taking the phone. The beast felt far more like a bludgeoning weapon than a phone, but I was careful not to make fun of it. Tommy saved for a year to afford this thing.
“What does this part do?” I asked, pointing to the bulky posterior of the phone.
Tommy choked on a laugh. “That’s the battery.”
My lips parted. Oops. “Well, shit.”
I followed her into peals of laughter which, I’m not gonna lie, felt almost therapeutic. I held the beast phone to my forehead in a mock salute. “Thanks, Tom.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go get dressed, you big ol’ grown-up head. I’ll meet you at the bus station in an hour.”
Ugh. That.
I walked her to the front door. She’d left it propped open—couldn’t blame her.
Tommy squeezed halfway out the door and stopped to look back at me, squealing, “I can’t believe we’re going to work together. This is the start of something great, Basi. You’ll see.”
When she left, I pushed and grunted until the door closed, resting my forehead against the cracked paint of the wood.
Fuck.
“Theodore wants to meet up after work today,” Tommy said, peeking at her skinny phone that could take pictures. Unlike some phones.
We’d just walked past Montgomery’s, Tommy holding the ends of her khaki cardigan wide to protect my outlaw butt from the weedy teen.
Every step took me closer to Kyros Sky. My palms were already slick with sweat.