Page 10 of My Demon Neighbor
"Codie?" I pressed, and he jumped, then gave me a sharp nod.
"Trust your instincts. Got it."
I gazed at him for a long moment, wondering if this was the right decision on his part. Was he truly ready for this? I didn't want to cause him harm.
The moment he'd opened that door, all my goals and wants, my whole reason for being here, had changed. The moment his sweet scent had slammed into me, the moment I found out what he meant to me, my whole world had tilted on its axis.
If a dark soul walked past at this very moment, I didn't think I'd want to chase after it, not when it meant leaving my mate behind.
Codie
Pythor was nothing like I'd expected.
He was tall, and muscular, and if any other man who looked like him was this close to me, I was sure I'd be in the middle of a panic attack. Yet I didn't feel a lick of fear around him, which just made me more nervous.
He'd talked about instincts, and mine seemed to insist he could be trusted, that he wasn't dangerous. But had my instincts ever clued me in on how dangeroushewas that night? If they had, I didn't remember it. So how could I trust them about Pythor?
The ringing of a phone jerked me out of my thoughts, and I glanced over at Vanessa as she grabbed her phone from where she'd placed it on the counter that separated the living room and kitchen.
"It's the daycare," she murmured, then answered the call. "Hello?" She listened for a moment, and her eyes went wide. "Shit. I'll be right there."
"What's wrong?" I asked as soon as the call ended, and she gave me a pained look.
"Alia got hurt, and she's inconsolable."
"Go," I urged, and she glanced between us, biting her lower lip.
"I can leave," Pythor offered, and I wondered if he'd realized why Vanessa was here after all. "We can meet up again later. It's not like I need to travel far."
"That would be—" Nessa started, but I cuther off.
"It's fine. We can continue on our own."
"Are you sure?" Nessa asked me, her blue eyes wide and full of concern. The fact that she was so worried about me when her own kid needed her warmed my heart, and I gave her a quick hug, jumping back before she could return it. Her eyes went even wider—probably because it was the first time I'd hugged her since that night—and she pressed her lips firmly as she gave me a nod. "Call me if you need anything.Anything."
"I will," I promised, and she rushed out as I followed after her to close the door. Pythor stayed where he was as I returned, and I swallowed hard.
"Okay, let's continue."
Pythor nodded, then started telling me how to not make myself an accessible target. He was factual as he spoke, his voice warm and confident, like he truly believed in what he was saying. I doubted he'd ever had to actually defend himself—a person would have to be an idiot to attack someone like him—but he made me feel like I could be safe if I did what he said.
When he started talking about verbal boundaries, though, I couldn't help flashing back to that night. Would things have gone differently if I'd been more confident or firm when rejectinghisadvances? I'd been trying to be polite. Should I have been direct instead? And did that mean that everything that'd happened after had been my fault?
Flashes from that night danced before my eyes, memories I wished I could just erase from my mind, and the questions kept repeating in my head. Was it my fault? Could I have done things differently and avoided it all? Was it my fault? Was it?
"Codie!"
I jumped, struggling to drag in a breath as my mind struggled, trapped between the past and the present. Where was I? What was happening?
"Breathe for me, Codie," a warm voice said, and I latched onto it, trying to pull myself out of this miasma and toward it as it kept going. "Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."
I followed the voice, forcing my unwilling lungs to cooperate.
"In through your nose, out through your mouth," he repeated, and I breathed again, finding it a little easier this time.
"Again. In through your nose, out through your mouth," Pythor murmured, and I nodded as I did it, blinking hard as my vision cleared. I quickly wiped off the tears staining my cheek, and Pythor retreated a few steps.
While with anyone else, I would've felt crowded and uncomfortable, I instantly missed his warmth when he pulled back. Why did I react so differently to him? What was so special about this man?
