I shrugged to show him that I wasn’t freaked about his likely correct assessment of the situation and turned back to the sink.

“We need a get together, without Jian- Li. Can you call that?” Abel stated, and I turned back to them, surprised.

“Without Ma?” Wei also seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” Abel said, moving the cooler out of the way with his foot just as Wei shoved the other one toward him with his.

“How do you think you’re gonna get anything past Ma?”

“Have it at lunch when the restaurant is in full swing and she’s too busy to come,” Abel told him.

“Ma’s a part of this, Abel,” Wei said quietly.

“Yeah, and what I gotta talk to the men about I’ll talk to her about, but privately.”

I saw Wei’s body tense, and due to it being imperative considering the amount of foam in my mouth, as well as to give them a hint of privacy, I turned back to the sink, spit, and turned on the faucet to rinse.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Wei replied.

“Thanks, brother,” Abel muttered, now loading the blood bags from the other cooler into the fridge.

He finished this, snapped both coolers closed, and handed them to Wei, all while I watched through the mirror, rinsing the wash from my face.

“Later, Lilah,” Wei called as he headed back to the door.

“Later, Wei,” I called back as I dried my face with a towel.

Wei disappeared behind the door and I turned to Abel to see the microwave whirring, a bag of blood inside, but he was making coffee.

I tossed the towel to the sink, walked that way, and got close.

The microwave dinged.

“You know,” I said softly, leaning my hip against the counter, “I liked it when you drew from me.”

Abel’s eyes, now back to brown and blue, making me wonder which way I liked them better, came to me. “Got that, pussycat,” he replied quietly, turning to open the door on the microwave.

“So you can, you know, do it again,” I told him.

He turned back to me, bag of blood in hand. “Want that, ’preciate you offering, and will take it, baby, if you ask for it. But you only got so much blood. I can enjoy it, get my fill, but gotta give it time for you to replenish it.”

Of course.

“Right,” I muttered.

“Have a look to see what you want for breakfast while I do this,” he ordered, jerking his head to the fridge.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Drink,” he answered.

I felt my brows draw together, thinking this was a little strange, as I replied slowly, “Oh…kay.”

I moved to the fridge. Head in it, I called, “Well, in here, our choices are eggs and bacon or bacon and eggs.”

“Got pancake mix,” he replied. “Bread, milk, and eggs for French toast. Other shit on the shelves.”