"I'll pass," Ethan said, standing and holding out a hand. I walked past him, across the backyard and to the brick patio that spanned the back of the House, then to the back door. When we reached the door, he reached to grasp the handle, but then paused.
I glanced over at him.
"I'm not your father, you know."
It took me a moment to find words. "Excuse me?"
"I'm capable of giving you a compliment and being completely sincere about it." I opened my mouth to snipe back, but I realized he had a pretty good point. Offering a compliment to goad someone into doing something was just the kind of thing my father would do. I gave Ethan credit for recognizing the difference.
"Then thank you," I told him, a hint of a smile at my lips.
He nodded graciously. "You're welcome. I'll see you in the evening."
"Good night, Sullivan."
"Good night, Sentinel."
CHAPTER FOUR
WHAT HAPPENS IN CHICAGO . . . STAYS IN CHICAGO
I woke suddenly, jolting upright in my bed in my room in Cadogan House amidst a pile of books about American shifters. I pushed my long bangs from my face, realizing I'd fallen asleep again in the midst of studying. That was the tricky thing about living by the fall and rise of the sun—it was a deep, dizzying descent into unconsciousness when the sun began to rise, and a gunshot ascent when twilight fell again.
"Welcome to the life of vampires," I muttered aloud, a greeting a former friend—a former boyfriend—had once passed along. I organized the books into piles on my bed, then stood up and stretched. I'd at least thought to change into pajamas before I sank into unconsciousness, my LICENSE
TO ILL tank top rising up as I lifted my arms over my head and stretched. The orange tank didn't exactly match the blue Cubs boxers I'd paired it with, but who was going to see it? As far as I was concerned, sleeping in ugly, comfy duds was one of the major advantages of being single.
And I was very definitely single.
I'd actually been single for a while, if you didn't count the few weeks I spent nearly dating Morgan.
He'd "won" the right to date me by challenging Ethan in front of half of Cadogan House, Noah, and Scott Grey. We'd had a handful of halfhearted dates afterward. Unfortunately, while the "half" part was from my end, Morgan seemed to be all-in from the get-go. I didn't feel the same, and he was convinced my reticence had something to do with my relationship, physical and otherwise, with Ethan. I could admit Ethan was on my mind more than made me comfortable, but calling our prickly interactions a
"relationship" was like calling an office softball team the Cubs. Bats were swung either way, but it just wasn't the same.
Having stretched out, I glanced back at the alarm clock. It was mid-June, so the days were still getting longer, my hours of awareness shrinking a little each day until the summer solstice would click the clock back in the other direction. Figuring I could delay my inevitable training session with Ethan for only so long, I put the stacks of books on the floor, then followed with my feet.
I didn't bother with a shower since I was training with Ethan, but I did change into my sports bra and yoga pants, then threw on a fitted Cadogan T-shirt. I was hungry and headed for a pre-training breakfast, and I didn't want to show up in my minimal workout gear. When I was dressed and shoed and had my katana in hand, I took the stairs up to Lindsey's third-floor room. She'd become my meal buddy. Her room was also my after-work hang-out. The value of bad television after a night of supernatural drama really should not be underestimated. "Mind-numbing" had its role in the life of a vampire.
Lindsey stood in her open doorway, cell phone in hand, when I arrived. Since she was the guard corps's resident psychic, I assumed she'd guessed I was headed her way. Unlike me, she was dressed in her Cadogan black suit, her long blond hair pulled into a sleek, low ponytail at the base of her neck. She crooked a finger at me, then walked back inside.
"Babe, I have to go. My breakfast date is here. I'll talk to you later. And don't forget about those pants I love. No—the latex ones. 'Kay. Hugs. Bye." She snapped her phone closed, then looked back at me, grinning at what I'm sure was a look of horror on my face. I really couldn't fathom a single thing to say.
But I'd apparently moved out of the Carmichael-Bell love shack and right into the House of Latex. I mean, I knew Lindsey had been flirting with Connor. He was, like me, a newbie Cadogan vamp. But
"latex" was not a word I needed to hear this early in the evening.
"I can't believe you aren't being supportive," she said, rolling her eyes. She toed into sensible black heels as she slid her phone into the pocket of her jacket.
"I'm—I'm supportive. Yay, Lindsey." My tone was flat, but I gave her a halfhearted fist wave.
Once she was shoed, she put her hands on her hips, one blond eyebrow arched. "I've found the love of my very long, very immortal life, and all I get is 'Yay, Lindsey'? Some friend you are."
"Love of your life? Connor? Are you sure?" That time, my voice actually squeaked.
She nibbled the edge of her lip like a love-struck teenager, then put her hand over her heart. "I'm wicked sure."
We stood there in silence for a minute. "Yay, Lindsey," I said again, when words failed me.