Aaren counted the cash quickly. “Two hundred bucks?! For one meal? I don’t even have any fancy cuts...”
Hades smiled crookedly. “That’s fine. Whatever you have. I’m sure you’ll make it good.”
Aaren stared at the bills in his hand, then at Hades, and the dinky little kitchen behind him. “You’re not even going to kidnap me.” The second those words fell out of his mouth, Aaren choked on his spit. “I shouldn’t be giving you ideas!”
Hades smiled again. “I’m notthatmuch of a criminal.”
“What did you go to prison for?”
The alpha shrugged. “May I wait inside while you cook?”
With all the regrets Aaren had about Ballus, he knew he should be more wary. But Hades had not once snapped at him, even through Aaren’s verbal diarrhea and hesitation. In fact, he had answered most—but not all—of Aaren’s questions, and given him far too much money for one meal.
To say nothing of how far Hades had traveled, just to track him down.
Meadowfall was almost a thousand miles away from Mount Hood. There was no way Hades was letting him go this easily.
“You may as well,” Aaren said, so no one would see him on Ballus’ front step. He backed away and held his breath as Hades came through the doorway, the sheer width of him preventing Aaren’s escape. Then he was inside the house, somehow even larger in this small space.
This feels so wrong. Ballus didn’t say he can come in.
But... Two hundred bucks was two hundred bucks, and Aaren could not turn down that kind of money.
Hades looked around, then down—he must’ve noticed the collection of shoes to one side. He toed off his boots and tucked his hands in his pockets, his nostrils flaring.
Aaren knew what he smelled. Ballus’ heavy, pungent boxwood scent was everywhere, accompanied by Aaren’s tulip scent. And now there was a hint of cherrywood from Hades, lighter and sweeter than Aaren expected.
“You smell good,” Aaren blurted. He covered his mouth. “I did not mean to say that.”
Hades turned back to him. “Your alpha is out?”
“Yeah. He just left for work. He won’t be back ‘til 2 PM.”
“Hmm.”
Aaren darted around him, heading to the kitchen to double-check the ingredients he had to work with. He opened the fridge and bent over, rummaging through the crisper drawers.
On the other side of the kitchen, Hades made a sound.
“Huh?” Aaren looked up. Only to find the alpha looking at his... ass?
Hades cleared his throat and met Aaren’s gaze.
“Why were you looking at my ass?” Aaren asked, baffled.
“You provided detailed, explicit commentary on my body, and you’re asking why I’m looking at yours?” Hades raised an eyebrow.
Aaren blushed and gestured at Hades’ entire self. “Well, yeah! You’re... hot as a sizzling steak. I’m the... the squashed doughboy.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, either.
“Squashed—” Hades opened and closed his mouth, quiet for a moment. “What?”
“That’s what my alpha says.” Aaren shrugged, ashamed.
Hades’ shoulders grew stiff; a thread of steel entered his voice. “He calls you a... squashed doughboy? As... a pet name?”
Aaren froze, wondering if Hades would get violent with him. “As an insult.”
