“A week ago, you hated me.”
“A week ago, I didn’t know you weren’t going to rip my throat out.”
“You still hate vampires.”
“I hate anything that hurts other people. Try again.”
“I still need to feed.” Cole glanced at the bandages covering the injuries on Brady’s neck. “I stop drinking blood, and I go crazy. Literally. You think you can live with that?”
“Did you lie to me about having to kill to do that?”
“No.”
“Then I find a way to deal.” His fingers flexed into Cole’s shoulder, and he stepped as close as his sling would let him. “What I know is, it’s better with you here than it is when you’re not. I spent the whole day home, wondering what the hell was wrong, and the second you walked through the door, I felt better. I’d have to be an idiot not to realize it’s because of you.”