SWEET BLOOD
She busied herself around the apartment, baking something or reading mundane newspapers; washing the breakfast dishes, dusting the bookshelves, going thirty minutes on the treadmill; and generally keeping as far away from him as seemed possible in the cramped quarters.
He’d heard her in the shower a while ago and had allowed himself a few minutes of sleep where he sat on the floor, but the water was off now and he was awake, listening to Grace getting dressed behind the closed door. She came out in blue jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that fell halfway down her thighs. Her short blond hair was towel-dried and as shiny as gold, setting off the pale, delicate, and not-so-innocent eyes.
Eyes that
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