âYou need to take some iron pills.â I glare at him as he pulls back from my neck.Â
âStop micromanaging my diet.âÂ
âActually, Iâm micromanaging my diet.âÂ
âSemantics,â I say, shoving him back. âHad your fill?âÂ
âFor now,â he acquiesces. âIâll need more soon.âÂ
âFind somebody who eats red meat.âÂ
âOh, but youâd miss our little get-togethers.â Heâs grinning like he knows something, like he thinks Iâm attached.Â
âAnd you wouldnât?â Donât dish it if you canât take it, buddy. Fresh with blood, his cheeks flush. He breaks eye contact, turning to grab his coat.Â
âIâll drop some supplements off tomorrow night. Will you be in?âÂ
I sigh and cast a glance at my calendar. âI think I can make that work for you.âÂ
âAlright.â He grins. âThen itâs a date.âÂ










