8. Adam

Chapter eight

Adam

Can I come over so we can talk?

I stare at my phone, waiting to see if Sam's read the text and is typing out his reply. I only sent the message a few minutes ago. For all I know, he's busy, or he's read the preview and doesn't want to open it, or…

I huff and put my phone aside. We had no opportunity to talk last night, not when we were all there to meet Drew. I'm certain I'm not imagining the tension between me and Sam, though, and I want to deal with it.

Preferably in bed, but I'll take what I can get.

My phone buzzes. I snatch it up and let out a shaky breath at Sam's reply.

Sure. Let me know when you're on the way.

It's that easy?

Well, not really. Even with all the questions I have about Drew—Drew who's hiding something, Drew who barely trusts us, Drew who so obviously needs care and reassurance and—

Stop it. I bite back a growl. Even without all that, anything between me and Sam would be complicated.

That doesn't mean I don't want it.

I leave my flat, taking the stairs up to the floor with Lucien's. When we first moved into this building, he tried to put us in flats next to each other, but Elle stepped in and put me on another floor.

"He needs his space," she said, all the while ignoring Lucien's affronted glare.

She wasn't wrong, though I'm glad, now, that we were sent to the clan house after Nathan's attack. I couldn't have been even this far from him then; at least, not at first.

I knock on Lucien's door, and he looks me over with a frown when he opens it.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, sure." He steps back and I breeze inside. "Just wanted to see if I need to do anything tonight."

I don't have a job as such. Technically, I'm no longer a fledgling, but fifty years a vampire isn't that old, and besides, I think both Elle and Lucien spoil me.

Lucien more than Elle. If she spots me, she usually ropes me into a task.

Lucien's lips quirk. "Why do I feel as though you already have plans?"

I duck my head, trying to hide my grin. Of course Lucien knows me better than anyone else.

Will Sam ever know me that well?

Will Drew?

"It'd be rude to just run out on you."

Lucien huffs a laugh. "Lucky for you, then, that I am already busy tonight. Vasile has requested my presence at the Council. We will receive an update on what is happening with Nora."

I pull a face, torn between my need to see Sam and go with Lucien to make sure he's safe. Lucien reads the dilemma in my face and shakes his head.

"Go do whatever you are doing," he says. "We will be fine. I expect Moreau has learnt little from her, judging by his silence so far, but I may still be surprised."

"As long as you're sure…"

"I am." Lucien smiles. "It is good to see you making new friends again."

I flush before I turn towards the door. I know some of the other vampires my age and some of the fledglings, but it's always been easier to stick close to Lucien and Elle than branch out.

Still, this is different, too. If Lucien had any idea what I want from Sam…

"Thanks," I mutter and close the door behind me before I can hear Lucien's answer.

I take the tube to Sam's flat, wondering if Kieran will be there. Lucien might be the best at reading me, and Elle too, but Kieran's a quick study and I don't know what Sam's told him about us.

If he's told him anything at all.

I rap on the door when I reach the flat, breathing in the scents of the building. My sense of smell is nothing like Drew's, but I can pick out his scent now, as well as the spark of magic that seems to accompany Sam everywhere.

Drew opens the door and I freeze. I don't know why I'm not expecting him—I suppose I expected Sam to be waiting, since I sent him a text on the way over—but I'm not, and now I can't stop staring.

Up close, he's big and solid, the kind of frame that makes my mouth water. He's a gorgeous contrast to Sam, who's more confident in his skin, but slighter, and my mind runs away from me for a second as I imagine the two of us moving Sam easily, sandwiching him between us…

"Are you coming in?" Drew asks, one eyebrow lifting slightly in question. I flush, shifting from foot to foot. Warmth pools in my belly at the turn my thoughts have taken, a lazy spark shooting to my cock, and fuck, Drew can smell me, can't he?

I'm so screwed.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Drew steps aside to let me pass, and when he shivers slightly, I wonder why. Is he having similar thoughts, or does he just hate vampires?

Kieran didn't like us much to begin with. I'm sure Drew was being sincere to Lucien last night, and he seemed to warm up to us, but if he's been taught that vampires are bad…

Drew shuts the door and moves past me, taking a seat on the right-hand side of the sofa. He curls up slightly as if trying to make himself smaller, and I fight the sudden urge to press up beside him and coax him out of his shell.

Instead, I listen. I can hear Sam's heartbeat in his bedroom, but otherwise, the flat is silent.

"Kieran isn't here?"

Drew shakes his head. "He's working. He said he took some time off recently, so he's been picking up extra shifts."

Ah. So Kieran still hasn't told Drew what happened—or that he went out of his way to look out for him. I guess I can understand why he wants to keep his little brother in the dark, but it doesn't seem fair.

Not when we're all certain there's something else out there.

"Sam?"

"Getting ready, I think." Drew's smile is faint, but a little more knowing than I expect.

"We're not going anywhere."

Drew snorts, turning his attention back to the TV. He's watching some regency series, but I don't know which one. "Yeah, I know."

I sit at the other end of the sofa. Drew's shoulders tense at first, but as we sit in silence, he slowly relaxes, and I do too, leaning back into the cushions.

"How're you enjoying London so far?"

"Well, the flat's nice."

I laugh. "Have you been anywhere else?"

"Kieran and I went for food today. Shopping, I mean. It was—" A shadow crosses his face, gone as quickly as it arrived, but I'm watching him closely enough that I catch it all the same.

I lower my voice, flicking a quick glance at Sam's closed bedroom door. His heartbeat thuds steadily as he moves around. "Did something happen?"

"What?"

"Did something—some one …?"

Drew's eyes widen and he looks at me like he's seeing me for the first time. He swallows hard, and I see his pulse flutter at the base of his throat. "No," he lies.

His heartbeat pulls back to baseline. I tip my head to one side. Can all wolves do that?

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." Drew smiles, covering whatever he's keeping to himself behind that sweet expression. "Besides, Kieran was with me. And I can take care of myself, you know."

I can't help myself. I turn fully towards him, propping an elbow on the back of the sofa. Resting my head on my hand, I give Drew a slow once-over that makes his cheeks go pink. "Oh, I figured as much," I say, and when Drew swallows, his heart rate spiking again, I smile.

Of course Sam chooses that moment to open his bedroom door, and Drew flinches back into the corner of the sofa like he's been burnt. Sam looks between us and when Drew won't meet his gaze, he shoots me a questioning glance.

I shrug. Sam's wearing shorts, as ever, buried in another hoodie I figure he's stolen from Kieran. His hair is neatly styled, just a hint of mascara giving away what he's been doing in there the whole time.

"Stop bothering him," he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. Is Sam… mad about it? I pull a face, my stomach dropping.

"Sorry," I say. The word only makes Drew burrow further into the sofa as if he hopes it will eat him up.

"We'll eat dinner in a bit," Sam says to Drew, voice softer, and Drew nods.

He doesn't move his eyes from the TV as I follow Sam into his room.

Sam closes the door and sighs, leaning back against it. I take the opportunity to look around. The place is pretty tidy, though there are canvases leaning against most of the walls, a pile of sketchbooks on a low desk.

The canvases all face away, and I itch to pick one up and turn it, to see what Sam's been painting.

"What's up, then?" Sam asks. He doesn't move from the door, eyes wary, so I grin at him, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Do you remember the other night?"

"The night before last? When I got drunk, and you took me home? Yeah, I remember."

"Do you remember everything?"

I don't want to push, not really, but I can't help myself. I've been drawn to Sam since well before I tasted his blood, but after that kiss, I can't think of anything else.

Well, except when I'm thinking of Drew. Which has only been the last twenty-four hours or so, but my mind's been full of the two of them since then. I don't know how I'm going to face Lucien again without him just reading the truth of it from my expression.

"The kiss, you mean."

"Yeah."

Sam sighs again. "Look…"

"Oh, no, no, no," I interrupt, ignoring Sam's exasperated glare. "Come on, don't write this off right away."

"You know it's a bad idea."

"Why's that?"

"Because breakups are messy, and my best friend is basically married to your sire."

"They're hardly married."

"What do you think a mating bond even is ?"

I wave him off. "Fine. But we're both adults. If we broke up, we'd both be mature about it."

Sam frowns. He sits next to me on the bed and glances at the door once before he speaks, his voice low. "What about Drew?"

I sit up straighter. "What about him?"

"You're going to keep teasing him? You've not even known him five minutes, and you were flirting."

"That's just how I am," I say.

It's not a lie, not really, but Sam's right in pointing out that something is going on. Things are already different with Drew. But if Sam doesn't feel the same, I can put my crush on the cute little wolf aside.

Right?

Sam chews his lip, staring off into the distance. I want to taste him so badly that my gums ache, my fangs itching to slip free.

I fed earlier tonight. It's not about that .

"One more kiss," I blurt out, and Sam's shocked gaze snaps to me.

"What?"

I shrug. I don't have an explanation, except I want him, and sitting this close to him in his bedroom, on his bed , is killing me.

"I wouldn't want your lasting memory of how I kiss to be tainted by what you were drinking," I say, and Sam huffs a laugh.

"I might be letting myself in for disappointment," he says, but he's already leaning closer.

Does he feel the same pull I do? Does it matter?

He pauses when he's only a breath away, waiting. I suppose it's only fair. He kissed me last time, after all.

I slide a hand into his hair, cradling the back of his skull as I slant my lips over his. Sam lets out a shaky breath when our mouths brush together, and I can't help but kiss him harder, deeper, swiping my tongue over his lips and then, when he opens, into his mouth.

Sam tugs at my T-shirt, moving until we're pressed together chest-to-chest. One hand cups my face, thumb swiping over my cheekbone. My cock stirs and when he sucks on my tongue, I groan.

He inhales sharply, fingers digging into my cheek before his hand slides down the side of my throat and over my chest. I shove my free hand up under his hoodie. His skin is soft, warm.

Fuck, I want to—I want—

Sam rubs his hand over my swelling cock and my hips jerk forward, pushing it against his palm. He squeezes and I tear myself away from the kiss to pant, suddenly desperate for him.

I hear something beyond the door. Drew. Fuck. Sam notices it too and squeezes me once more, gently, before he removes his hands.

I let go of him in turn and it takes him a moment to speak. When he does, I suspect it's not what he truly meant to say.

"Not bad."

I want to kiss his smirk away. "Sam…"

My voice is almost a whine, and he sucks in a breath. His eyes are dark, and he leans in, pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth before he sits back.

"We shouldn't have—"

"Sorry. I shouldn't have pushed."

He snorts. "You think I kiss anyone who asks? It's fine. But my point still stands. Things are… complicated."

"They are."

It's a no, but… I have time. All of it. I'm not going to chase him, not going to push, but there's plenty of time for things to change, and I can be patient.

"Thanks for looking after me, too, the other night," Sam says. His colour is returning to normal the longer we sit there. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"Are you offering?" I shoot him a cheeky grin, eyes straying to his throat only for a second.

"Dickhead," Sam mutters, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Come on. You need to play nice with your new in-law, you know."

"In-law?"

Sam ignores me, getting up from the bed, and I follow him back out into the living room. Drew's eyes flick between us like he knows just what we were doing in there, but his expression is carefully neutral, and he quickly turns his attention to the TV again.

"Adam's staying for dinner," Sam says, wandering over to the kitchen.

Drew's gaze jerks to me. "You can eat?"

I grin, throwing myself onto the sofa beside him again. If nothing else, Drew needs a friend, and one vaguely outside of his brother's orbit.

"I can ," I say, "but I'm probably just going to sit and provide you both with scintillating conversation."

Drew laughs quietly. Sam smiles faintly, his expression fond. Maybe I'm not completely off-base with how I feel about both of them—whatever it is I'm feeling—but there's still time to figure that out too.

We sit in a comfortable silence as Sam sets about warming up leftovers from earlier in the day. Drew jumps up as soon as he starts pulling out plates, clearly anxious to help.

I don't miss the way Sam smiles at him, a little warmth blooming in my chest at the sight. He's not more guarded around me than the others, but he clearly softens for Drew, gently shooing him to the other side of the counter as he serves dinner.

He pushes a plate into Drew's hands when he's done and then looks at me. "Get over here."

I join them both at the counter, clambering onto one of the high stools sitting there. Drew's between the two of us and as they dig into their food, something about the moment feels right.

When I look up, Sam's watching me. His expression is pensive, and when our eyes meet, I lift my eyebrows, wondering if he can work out what I'm asking.

My phone rings, breaking the moment. I frown when I see it's Lucien and slip away from the two of them, to the other side of the living room.

"Hey. Everything okay?"

"No, I—Where are you?"

I frown at the concern in Lucien's voice, turning to look at Sam and Drew. Drew is still eating, but Sam is watching me, fork hovering above his plate.

"I'm with Sam and Drew. What's going on?"

"It is Nora," Lucien says. "She is dead."