The third day of your honeymoon finds us sitting at your kitchen table, using the knives my parents gave you as a wedding gift to whittle wooden stakes from broken chair legs. I spent my whole life in love with you, and even allowed myself a brief moment of hope that you might return my affection one drunk morning when we crossed over the line between friendship and something more.<br><br>Then you went and got married. To a vampire.<br><br>When you called me for help killing her, how could I say no?

Til Death

“Oh yeah,” Chel confirmed. “Male, female, and everything in between. By the end of the night, I was probably the only person still dressed in the whole place. Well, mostlydressed. I kept on my panties.”


“TMI.” Sounded like Annaleigh had a more decadent last fling than we did. I was tempted to turn around and head back to bed, crawl under those covers with you, and do things to you that would make the morning in Myrtle Beach look like a scene from a PG-13 movie.


Before I could hang up on Chel and do just that, I heard a noise behind me and turned to find you stumbling into the kitchen. “I smell coffee,” you mumbled.


Chapter 7