He then commenced loading bags of blood into the fridge as I felt my eyes widen.
“Good,” Abel replied.
“You think they got a load of us, then turned tail and ran, thinkin’ whatever beef they have isn’t worth it?” Wei suggested with what I figured was more hope than realism.
“I’m thinkin’ they got a load of us and they’re off for reinforcements and a strategy session,” Abel replied, his eyes sliding to me.
I shrugged to show him that I wasn’t freaked about his likely correct assessment of the situation and turned back to the sink.
“We need a get together, without Jian- Li. Can you call that?” Abel stated, and I turned back to them, surprised.
“Without Ma?” Wei also seemed surprised.
“Yeah,” Abel said, moving the cooler out of the way with his foot just as Wei shoved the other one toward him with his.
“How do you think you’re gonna get anything past Ma?”
“Have it at lunch when the restaurant is in full swing and she’s too busy to come,” Abel told him.
“Ma’s a part of this, Abel,” Wei said quietly.
“Yeah, and what I gotta talk to the men about I’ll talk to her about, but privately.”
I saw Wei’s body tense, and due to it being imperative considering the amount of foam in my mouth, as well as to give them a hint of privacy, I turned back to the sink, spit, and turned on the faucet to rinse.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Wei replied.
“Thanks, brother,” Abel muttered, now loading the blood bags from the other cooler into the fridge.
He finished this, snapped both coolers closed, and handed them to Wei, all while I watched through the mirror, rinsing the wash from my face.
“Later, Lilah,” Wei called as he headed back to the door.
“Later, Wei,” I called back as I dried my face with a towel.
Wei disappeared behind the door and I turned to Abel to see the microwave whirring, a bag of blood inside, but he was making coffee.
I tossed the towel to the sink, walked that way, and got close.
The microwave dinged.
“You know,” I said softly, leaning my hip against the counter, “I liked it when you drew from me.”
Abel’s eyes, now back to brown and blue, making me wonder which way I liked them better, came to me. “Got that, pussycat,” he replied quietly, turning to open the door on the microwave.
“So you can, you know, do it again,” I told him.
He turned back to me, bag of blood in hand. “Want that, ’preciate you offering, and will take it, baby, if you ask for it. But you only got so much blood. I can enjoy it, get my fill, but gotta give it time for you to replenish it.”
Of course.
“Right,” I muttered.
“Have a look to see what you want for breakfast while I do this,” he ordered, jerking his head to the fridge.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Drink,” he answered.
I felt my brows draw together, thinking this was a little strange, as I replied slowly, “Oh…kay.”
I moved to the fridge. Head in it, I called, “Well, in here, our choices are eggs and bacon or bacon and eggs.”
“Got pancake mix,” he replied. “Bread, milk, and eggs for French toast. Other shit on the shelves.”
I looked beyond the door of the fridge to see him sucking back the last of the blood and toeing open the blue trash can.
“You could have told me that without my head in the fridge,” I stated, and his eyes turned to me as he quickly finished with the bag and tossed it in the bin in a way that looked almost ashamed.
What the fuck?
“You pick, or I can ask one of the boys to go out and get donuts or some other shit you want,” he said, dropping the lid on the bin and moving my way.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What was what?”
“The thing you just did.”
He stopped and focused on me, eyes blank.
Carefully blank.
“Drink blood, Delilah.”
“I know, Abel.”
“Have to do it, but I’ll do it quick so you don’t have to watch.”
I closed the fridge and faced off with him. “Honey, you’ve drawn from me.”
“I know, I was there,” he returned, his tone threaded with a sudden stiffness.
“And you left our beer and bullshitting fest upstairs yesterday to have your real lunch,” I reminded him.
“Your point?” he asked.
“My point is you’re you. That’s what you do. What you need. Why would it matter if I saw you doing it or not?”
“It’s not something humans do,” he told me as if I didn’t know.
“And?” I prompted.
“And, I saw your reaction the first time I did it. So I’ll save you from bein’ disgusted by it by not doin’ it in front of you, or if I have to, doin’ it quick.”
Oh my God.
“Honey, I’m not disgusted by it,” I said gently.
“Saw your reaction, Delilah,” he returned, no thread now, his tone was full-on stiff.
I threw out a hand. “Well, you know, it was my first time. Cut me some slack for that. But now, things are different.”
“How are they different?” he shot back. “I still drink blood.”
“It’s different because I know you better.”
“Again, that makes it different how?” he asked.
“I don’t know, it just does. It’s a part of you. And I’m a part of you,” I returned. “You’ve kissed me. You’ve held me. You’ve fucked me. You’ve made love to me. You’ve met my dad. You’ve met members of my family. You’ve slept beside me. You’ve come inside me, repeatedly. We’re connected.”