When He Called Me Tool，I Pounced The Incubus Crush

Chapter 3

After the intimacy, I closed my eyes, letting my restless blood settle.

Winston pursed his pink, swollen lips and carefully wiped me clean, piece by piece, with a tissue.

I grabbed the flimsy fabric lying nearby and tossed it at his face. "You i***t. Wash it and give it back next time."

I'd gone swimming that afternoon—there was a change of underwear in my bag.

Winston, stubborn as ever, had held himself back the whole time. "You're a girl," he said. "We can't do it here."

Or "Doing this with someone you don't like... I don't want you to wake up and regret it. Or hate me."

He patted my back reassuringly. "I know you were just hungry."

...If he hadn't sounded so genuinely sincere, I'd have sworn that last line was a dig at me. Winston held the little scrap of fabric in both hands and nodded, ears burning red.

When I got home and stood in front of the mirror, I could see the change clearly.

My usually pale, malnourished skin now had a faint rosy flush. The sickly pallor had faded. I looked more alive than I had in ages. Turns out nutrient supplements were no match for a sturdy man.

My mom noticed the change right away. I told her I was planning to break up with Dorian—and that I'd already found a new boyfriend. He was well-behaved, I said. Didn't cry or fuss no matter how much I nibbled.

She blinked, then laughed. "I used to worry about you being so hung up on that boy. But now—good. This is how a vampire should be. Free. Not tied down by any one relationship."

On Valentine's Day, Dorian texted me saying he couldn't spend it with me. Probably busy making out with the campus queen.

Fine by me—now I didn't have to come up with an excuse to turn him down.

Winston was busy. He was the president of the music club and had a planning meeting that day.

My roommate was a member. I asked her to take me along. She grinned mischievously. "You're going to see the president, aren't you? So many people have asked me to bring them today just to catch a glimpse of his legendary good looks—but I'm only taking you."

I hugged her arm. "You're the best."

On stage, Winston wore a black trench coat, explaining the slides with clear, measured precision. His voice was steady, low, every point laid out neatly.

Most of the people in the audience weren't club officers—they were just there to sneak photos of him. Then, in the middle of his presentation, he turned and spotted me in the very back row.

I smiled at him silently, letting my fangs show just a little. His voice faltered, barely noticeably. His expression flickered.

Then he went on as if nothing had happened. But the slight arch of his back, the way he tugged at his shirt—those little tells didn't escape my sharp eyes.

A faint, sweet scent drifted to my nose. Ever since my vampire genes awakened, my sense of smell has sharpened considerably. I smiled at him soundlessly, licked my lips, and mimed a swallow.

Winston's hand trembled on the slide clicker. His ears burned crimson—almost bleeding. A warning glare, laced with embarrassment, shot straight through the crowd and landed on me.

I held up my phone and mouthed. "Come find me after this."

He looked away, lashes fluttering. But that increasingly thick fragrance didn't lie.

When the meeting ended, I figured he wouldn't actually listen to me and come. But to my surprise, he did.