Twenty-Two
Sterling
I sat at the table long after the soup had grown cold and the candles had dimmed. I’d screwed it up. It was too late. I’d pushed her away too many times.
“Fuck,” I whispered, feeling my heart break into a million pieces.
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. She was supposed to accept my apology and welcome me into her arms. We were supposed to be together.
My ego. That’s what this was. I’d just expected her to do what I wanted. Soup wasn’t going to get her back. With a roar, I swept my arm out, sending our dinner smashing against the wall.
I stood, grabbed my coat, and went after her.
I was standingon Maron’s porch banging on the door and she was doing a fine job ignoring me. It had been ten minutes. I finally resorted to what I knew best.
Being an asshole.
“If you don’t open this door, I’m going to huff and I’m going to puff, and I’m going to blow -”
The door abruptly opened and Maron punched me in the face as hard as she could.
“You broke my nose!” I wailed as she hauled me inside and slammed the door shut.
“You pissed me off,” she said, by way of apology.
“That’s not saying you’re sorry,” I muttered against my hand. I’d never been punched by a vamp. I didn’t recommend it.
“Because I’m not sorry, you pain in the ass.” She tossed me onto the couch and went into the kitchen. I heard her rummaging around before she brought back a towel and an ice pack. “You’ll heal in a little while,” she said before she tossed both at me. “In the meantime, use this. If you get blood on my couch, I’m going to be pissed.”
I put the towel up to my face to staunch the blood flow. “I’m sorry, Maron.”
“As you’ve said a few times now.” Her mouth was pinched in annoyance and the expression on her face was thunderous.
I opened my mouth to speak, wincing at the pain in my nose, but she interrupted me. “I tried and tried to get you to see reason, and now you’re here on your terms? That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done. All I wanted was to be with you and you kept choosing some frigid ice queen over me.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled through the towel.
“Stop saying that!”
“But it’s true.”
Maron let out a growl and stood up from the couch.
“I like your place,” I said. “It’s cute.”
“Shut up,” she snapped right before she slammed a door behind her.
I collapsed back onto the couch with a groan. My nose was killing me. Maron threw a hell of a right hook.
Two hours later,I managed to clean the blood off and make myself look somewhat presentable. Maron had still not come out of her room. I wasn’t giving up so easily.
I’d called in reinforcements.
A soft knock on the door came less than ten minutes later and I opened the door. Three women poured in, all of them cussing about the rain.
Helen, Grace, and Katie stood there glaring at me once I’d closed the door behind them.
Grace was studying my still swollen nose. “She punched you?”
