All he does is grunt in response and look down at his phone. He looks gaunter than I remember. Still handsome, of course, but gaunt. He’s got the hollowed-out cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes that make him the kind of guy a vampire franchise would kill to cast as their leading man.
I bite my bottom lip—because those dark circles are my fault. Those bloodshot eyes are my fault. The fact that he can’t seem to be there for Lev is my fault, too, and I can’t even be mad at him for any of it. He’s doing his best to be there for everybody. It’s no wonder he’s spread himself too thin.
“Thanks, by the way,” I mumble. “For letting me out of the basement.”
He doesn’t so much as glance up from his phone. “Mm” is his only response.
He might be doing it deliberately. Punishing me with his
