Thomas Not Right Now

1. Auflage 2021
ISBN: 978-1-6678-0432-3
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 288 Seiten

Book two of the Time to Wake series unravels the deep history between the characters while taking readers further into the lore and world of the Nephilim, with our favorite snarky caffeine-addict leading the way.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Thomas, K.

Leseproben

CHAPTER 2 “Wake up. Please, wake up,” Hunter begged. I woke again as Hunter slid under the blanket and wrapped his arms around me, curling against my back. The sunlight coming through his window helped push away the haze from my dreams. “Hey, beautiful. Did you sleep okay?” I wrapped my arms around his and smiled. “Yeah,” I lied. I was itching to ask him more about what my dreams meant, but I was worried about how he would react if he found out Jonah was the subject of most of them. I opened my eyes to see a to-go cup sitting on the nightstand. “You brought me tea?” I asked. “Brought you tea? No, that’s mine…Did you want caffeine?” I elbowed him gently as he laughed. “Yes, I brought you tea,” he admitted. I rolled over to smile at him. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He smiled back, pressing his forehead to mine and closing his eyes. “Tired?” I asked. He nodded. “You’re wearing me out with your nocturnal schedule,” he said softly. “How was I supposed to know you’re a morning person?” I asked. “Anyone is a morning person compared to you.” I grinned. “That’s fair.” I traced my hand down his temple and cheek, and his lips curved in a smile at my touch. He had shaved this morning, leaving his face smooth, the dimple in his right cheek fully visible. I couldn’t decide if the usual stubble he kept complimented his cheekbones or distracted from them. Enjoying the opportunity to admire him while his eyes were closed, I ran my thumb along his jaw. His upper lip was full enough he didn’t have much of a cupid’s bow, and the lower lip tucked ever so slightly under it, giving him a permanent pout. It was especially prominent when he was deep in thought or asleep. Without his eyes open to distract you, it was easier to notice how nice the shape of his mouth was. I listened as his breathing started to take a consistent rhythm. “Need to sleep for a bit?” I asked in a whisper. “Mmm,” he confirmed. I kissed his forehead before cuddling against him, my head on his arm. It felt so good just being wrapped in the warmth of him, the soft electric hum of his spirit swirling against my skin. It was calm and comforting. His sleep was obviously not as disturbed as mine. My phone started vibrating across the nightstand. I reached out fast to stop it from waking Hunter. Answering, I whispered, “Hold on,” as I slowly crawled out of the bed and tucked the blanket around him. Once I was in the hallway, I greeted Vincent, “Hey, how are you?” “Are you coming over today?” he asked, his voice tense. “Yeah, I need to do a few things first, but I was planning on it. Everything okay?” I asked. “I just really need to show you something.” “Okay, I’ll head straight there.” “Good. See you soon.” He hung up before I had a chance to say goodbye. I took a deep breath and shook my head before going to gather up my stuff. I had hoped to go home and do some laundry first, but I had more strips for him to prepare for the site anyway. I pushed myself to finish weeks’ worth of panels for the comic, hoping to put Vincent in a good mood with all my hard work. After dressing, I sent Hunter a text, letting him know I was running by Vincent’s, then heading to my house, and I would be back later. He was so deeply asleep he hadn’t even moved. I was going to have to figure out an easier schedule for him. When I finally arrived at Vincent’s and knocked on his door, he didn’t answer. I rang the doorbell, pressing it repeatedly to get his attention, but to no avail. Deciding to use my spare key and just barge in on him, I shifted to pull my keyring from my bag. But as I reached up to unlock it, the door swung open. Vincent stood there, squinting from the sun as he raised his hand up to shield his eyes. He was in a black T-shirt and grey sweats, and his hair was uncharacteristically messy. It looked like he had just woken up, but it was almost two in the afternoon. “What took so long?” he asked. “I think that’s my line… Good afternoon to you, too.” I pushed past him with my box of pastries, wiggling it at him. “I brought your favorite, and I have more work for you.” His mouth twitched into a smirk as he grabbed the box from me. “Alright, you know where to set up the laptop.” “Oh, you’re allowing me near the command station?” I asked, causing him to roll his eyes. I wiggled my eyebrows at him and went to his computer desk to hook up. A glass desk lined the wall, with two black computer towers and a large monitor perched in the center. It sprawled behind a chair that looked like it belonged on a sci-fi battleship. It was attached to a metal frame that held six more monitors towering over a metal tray. The set-up was connected to an obnoxiously large keyboard. Naturally, everything was covered in lights he had installed himself because every male in my life was obsessed with neon backlighting. There’s no way I could have sat at this desk for long periods of time and accomplished anything. My focus was not strong enough. “You haven’t been streaming lately,” I said. “Surprised you noticed.” I held a hand over my heart and made a pained face. “Ouch.” “I used to have to force you to check your own site. Don’t act like you were waiting with bated breath for me to post,” he said. “Accurate.” I laughed. He gave me a small smile and a head shake as he pulled a scone from the box and took a bite. He then carried the box to the coffee table and proceeded to sit on the sofa, folding one leg under himself and sinking back against the arm. He kept one hand on his side, protectively over the spot he’d received the worst wound from his fight with Nathan, and I took a seat next to him, mirroring his posture and then grabbing an apple tart. “How are you feeling?” I asked, nodding at his midsection. He looked down and dropped his hand, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m alright.” He put the half-eaten pastry down on the box lid. Then he leaned forward, resting on his knees. “You don’t have to keep asking, you know.” I put my food down next to his. “I don’t do it out of obligation.” He looked over at me. His dark eyes scanned over my face and then down before settling on his hands clasped between his knees. “Yeah, I know,” he said. I reached out to touch his arm. As my hand met his skin, he jumped into a standing position, quickly moving out of my reach and over to my computer. “You don’t need to do that.” “Do what?” He waved a hand at me as he started clicking around on the trackpad, transferring the files from my computer to his. “You know. I’m healing fine; you don’t need to worry about it.” “I was just trying to comfort you… But I do worry.” “I’m fine, Sen.” Vincent had been very understanding in the hospital. He wasn’t even angry that I’d kept what I was from him for so long. It had been a relief to share everything. And I had thoroughly enjoyed his reactions as he relived every weird incident from high school with sudden comprehension. But not long after he was released back home, he shifted. He didn’t come right out and say it, but it seemed like he was upset with me after all. Since he won’t talk to me about it, it’s been a real treat trying to navigate restoring our relationship on my own. I watched him work, his back to me as he took what he needed from my laptop and closed it. The tattoos on his arms were all visible in his short-sleeved T-shirt. A light scar remained in only one place: running along one of the angel wings on his forearm. Everywhere else the art was intact, and the skin had healed completely. He turned and held the computer out to me. “All done,” he said. I stood, taking the laptop from him but not moving away. “You need to let me help more, Vincent. If you don’t heal perfectly, you could have some long-term side effects.” I looked up into his face and pleaded. “Please. It’s my fault this happened, and I can’t stand it if you won’t let me do what I can.” He stood there for a minute, his mouth tight as he battled with my request. Standing this close I could tell he was angry, but I didn’t understand it. Maybe he agreed it was my fault. I couldn’t blame him if he did. I’d nearly gotten him killed—not just because Jonah was after me, but also because I hadn’t shared what was really going on with him. I’d withheld information and put him in danger. He had every right to be angry with me. “Please,” I whispered again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded. I went to lift his shirt, to reach for the scar on his side, but he grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing?” he asked. His skin was warm, warmer than Katie’s spirit for sure, but even warmer than I remembered him being in the past. Afraid of what I’d see in his face if I looked up, I stared at his hand. “If I touch closer to the injury, I can heal it faster. I’ll be out of your way quicker that way.” I tried to slow my pulse as he held my arm, willing myself not to cry from all the frustration burning under the surface of his skin. He released me gently, then pulled his shirt up. The...