“What are you doing?” she croaked.
“Just gonna change my shirt before we go.” He balled the old shirt up, tossed it onto a pile of black fabric in the corner, and then pulled open the dresser drawer and started digging through it.
She stood there and stared at his back, watching the play of tiny muscles as he moved. Mesmerized.
With a mental smack, she dragged her eyes away, trying to remember what the hell she was doing here.Getting my stuff so we can go.Right. Stuff. She had stuff. She’d brought a backpack full of haphazardly packed clothing, yet she was still wearing Ash’s T-shirt.
Whatever. It was comfy and smelled good, and she didn’t feel like changing.
She grabbed her bag from the floor and stuffed yesterday’s outfit into it. When she straightened, she found Ash watching her, a fresh T-shirt in his hands that he had yet to put on.
Their eyes met and held yet again. She cursed him for drawing her into those indigo depths. She cursed him for being so damned attractive. Her gaze wandered down his bare torso against her will.
And then she realized the skin was perfectly smooth and unblemished. Even the scar she’d seen yesterday was gone.
“You’re really healed,” she said, remembering the sickening smell of burning flesh as Raum had cauterized the wound. She hadn’t doubted his brother’s word, but it was still a shock to see with her own eyes.
Ash looked down at himself, sending his hair swooping forward. He brushed a hand over where the wound had been. “Yeah. Usually I’d have a scar for a few days.” He frowned. “I don’t know why it healed so fast.”
Because I fed you my blood, probably.But she wasn’t telling him that.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” Her voice was slightly breathless, and she winced.
He looked back at her. “Thanks. I—” He swallowed. “You too.”
“I wasn’t hurt.”
“You were scared.” He glanced away. “I don’t like it when you’re scared.”
Damn it, he was not cute. “I wasn’t that scared,” she said, suddenly remembering his earlier words to Belial. “And you don’t need to protect me from your brother either.”
He frowned.
“I’m not scared of Belial.”Lie.She totally was.
Understanding dawned. “Bel is a dick. I was just reminding him to watch his step around you.”
“I can handle him.” Actually, she highly doubted that was true, but she was putting on a brave face, and “fake it till you make it” was still the best advice she’d ever heard.
“Eva.” His eyes were suddenly beseeching. “I—”
“Did you get the speaker to work?” she interrupted, gaze landing on the device on the dresser. She wasn’t ready to hear anything more about feelings right now. Demons weren’t the only ones capable of being overwhelmed by emotions. She still wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and sense of betrayal, but it was hard to stay mad when he looked at her with those big sad eyes.
His head turned to look at the speaker. “Yeah. I figured it out the first time I called you. The night we first— Yeah.”
She coughed lightly and pretended not to feel the wave of heat that washed over her at the memories of his moans distorting her phone speaker. She’d never thought she’d be into phone sex, but damn, it was extremely hot with him. “What did you listen to?” she asked to distract herself.
“Herbie.”
She chuckled. “Herbie Hancock, Miles Davis, Oscar Peterson... You really like the old-school guys, huh.”
“To be fair, the last time I was on Earth, they weren’t old school.”
She blinked. Damn, that was too weird. But then that would mean... “You haven’t heard any new music since when? The seventies? Eighties?”
“Eighties, I guess?”
“Oh my god,” she breathed, and she couldn’t help it. Her eyes lit up with the possibilities. “Old school is brilliant, but you need to listen to some current innovators. Shit, I have so much music to show you!”
