I stared at him, shocked by the pain he was finally allowing himself to feel. I listened to his racing heart, waiting until it calmed down again. "Talk to her. Give her another chance. She just needed time to get used to all the changes."
"Whatever."
I blew out a long, slow breath through my lips. "Maybe the problem is you two are both being hardheaded. She made a mistake and said some things she shouldn't have. But she's your mother. You have to forgive her."
"Her first."
"What?
"Tell her to forgive me for becoming her worst nightmare. Then we can try to talk it out."
I sighed. There was no point in pushing Tristan about this any further tonight. It had been a tough day for both of us. We had plenty of time to talk about this later. "I should go, let you get to your homework or whatever. I don't really need help with mine."
"No, don't go yet. I already did my homework while you were at Charmers practice. Which I notice you were awfully careful not to tell me about. Was Mrs. Daniels and everybody else happy to have you back?"
His anger and hurt and resentment, directed solely at his mother, was immediately packed away somewhere deep inside him. Now all I saw and sensed from him was love and loneliness.
It couldn't hurt to stay a little longer. "Yeah. Well, mostly." I let him see my memory of overhearing their thoughts and the rumors currently swirling around us.
He cringed. "We should come up with a story. One that doesn't involve eloping to Las Vegas or you getting knocked up."
"Why bother telling them a lie? They won't believe it anyway. You know how they are. They'll believe whatever story they choose."
I glanced at him, noticing the thick textbook at his other hip, still open and lying facedown. It must have been some pretty interesting reading. Even with his new speed-reading ability, he still wasn't much of a reader by choice.
I reached for the book. He shocked me by quickly laying his free hand over the cover.
"Oh, now I really need to know what you're reading." I tried reaching over him for the book again, losing my balance and falling across him. He just as quickly grabbed the book and used the advantage of his long arm to hold it beyond my reach.
"It's just a book from school," he said.
"Then why don't you want me to see what it is?"
Rolling his eyes, he sighed and turned the book so I could read the title on the front.
"Intro to Genetics?" I read aloud, my eyebrows as high as they would go. "Where did you get-"
"Mrs. Horne. Remember at lunch how I said I ran into her on the way to your chem class? Well, her youngest daughter's majoring in genetics at UT at Tyler and loaned this book to her. Mrs. Horne let me borrow it after I asked her about how to make that synthetic blood we all talked about."
"Have you told Emily about it yet?" He had mentioned that maybe Emily would be interested in blood pharming since she was destined to take over BioMed someday.
He looked away. "Nah. It was just a stupid idea I was kicking around for fun."
"Tristan, tell her."
"What's the point? It'll be years before she graduates from college and is ready to take over BioMed. By then, plenty of other companies will probably start making and selling the stuff for anyone who wants it."
"There doesn't have to be years of delay. Why wait till she can use the idea herself? Your mother's still on the board, right? Emily could pass it on to her, and then your mom could get BioMed to-"
At the mention of his mother, his eyes turned dark. "Get real, Sav. The BioMed board's all Clann. They're never going to take a vampire's idea and run with it, not even if it could make them a ton of money and give them leverage over the vamps."
Okay, now his hang-up with his mother was really starting to irritate me. He was making her out to be some kind of a radical anti-vamp racist. But she was still his mother. And from what I'd heard, she was also smart. Too smart to let a great idea like synthetic blood pass by the family company just because a vamp suggested it.
Before he could stop me, I grabbed his phone and took advantage of my vamp speed to shoot off a text to his sister.
He tried to grab the phone from me, but I managed to send it before he could stop me. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Making sure that fine mind of yours doesn't go to waste." Smiling smugly, I handed him back his phone.
Grumbling, he read my text message to Emily then huffed out a loud sigh. "All they're going to do is laugh at her."
"Not if she tells them the idea was hers to begin with. And I have a hunch she will. You always told me your sister was smart." At his reluctant nod, I added, "Then why don't you trust her to figure out a way to handle your mother? Maybe the board will still be stupid and shoot it down. But you'll never know unless you let her try."
He scowled but tossed the phone onto the mattress beside him in silent defeat. "As long as I get to tell you I told you so when nothing comes of it."
"Agreed. Now why don't you tell me what else you've been learning from this big ole book?" I scooted down to curl up beside him, draping an arm across his waist and resting my cheek on his shoulder.
Warmth began to radiate out from every point where our bodies made contact, and I sighed with relief as my always tense muscles finally began to relax. Why was it that I was only warm when touching Tristan? I didn't even have to be this close to him, either. Sometimes I could swear just our holding hands made my low body temp shoot up several degrees.
"I looked that up actually," Tristan murmured. "It's called vasocongestion, where blood f low is increased in localized areas. It's a physiological response to being, um, physically attracted to someone. It happens to humans, too."
I burst out laughing. "Good grief. Does that book cover everything?"
"No. I found that stuff on the internet. This is more focused on genetics."
I tilted my head back and grinned at him. "Have I ever told you how hot you are when you talk like that? Quick, say physio whatever again."
He laughed. "There's more where that came from." He slipped an arm around me then f lipped open the textbook and began to read the introduction. I could tell from his thoughts that he meant it as a joke, but I didn't stop him.