Page 117 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

“A little late, don’t you think?” Milo hissed.

“I take it Grievance was the one who took a bite?”

“A bite?” Milo laughed. “He ate an entire muffin, Rowen!”

“Aw hells.” Rowen winced.

“Yeah. And succubus venom will fuck up a regular person—do you have any idea what it does to a Chimera!?”

Rowen opened his mouth to say something, but Milo continued, letting loose a verbal tirade that Rowen so deserved.

“Do you know what I’ve endured tonight!? I’ve had to take three doses of revitalization potion! Three! Just to keep from passing out—and I’m pretty sure I did that anyway because look!” Milo hiked up his sweater, showing off a symmetrical row of little red dots. “I don’t remember getting fucked by anything with tentacles, Rowen! But evidence would prove otherwise!”

Rowen’s eyes went wide at the marks.

“Because of your little experiment, I’ve been fucked by a wolf, a snake, and who the fuck knows what else. I’m not going to be able to walk straight for a week!”

At this, Rowen couldn’t hold back the obvious mirth building in his chest. He let out a burst of laughter, trying to smother it with a hand.

“I’m sorry.” He said, at Milo’s seething glare. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny but… I’ve never heard you string that many words together— and for it to be those words.”

Some of the tension drained from Milo’s body, and he relaxed. Then he thought about everything he’d just word-vomited on his porch at three in the morning. His eyes met Rowen’s, and they both dissolved into a fit of helpless giggles like a pair of lunatics.

Apparently, I really can have all my senses fucked out of me.

“I’m really sorry, Milo. It was an honest mistake.”

“I know. Just don’t fuck around with powerful ingredients like that willy-nilly,” Milo said. “And if you’re thinking of doing it anyway, come to me so I can help you calculate the proper dose.”

“Does that mean you aren’t going to report me to Hobbs?”

“I was never going to do that,” Milo said, waving him off.

“Yeah.” Rowen looked Milo up and down again. “You’re in way too good a mood for that. I would be too, if I were bedded so thoroughly.”

Milo blushed. “We will never speak of this again.”

“Cross my heart,” Rowen said, mimicking the motion across his chest.

“Okay. And tell Sadie she owes me a new sweater,” Milo said, spreading his arms disparagingly. “This was my favorite.”

“I’ll pass the message. But before I go, Milo… are you good?”

Milo smiled at his friend. Because yeah, Grievance was right; Rowen was a cocky son-of-a-bitch. But he also had a really good heart. And he was sitting on Milo’s front porch in the freezing October air, making sure Milo was safe.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Grievance is a monster, but I’ve always been pretty good at handling monsters.”

“Yeah, you have,” Rowen said with a waggle of his brows.

Milo’s jaw clenched. “Your pajamas make you look like Mr. Scrooge.”

Rowen balked. “They’re vintage! Sadie says they make my butt look good.”

“Be that as it may, I still think you’re going to steal Christmas.”

“You have no taste, Pembrooke. And I’m pretty sure you’re mixing up Mr. Scrooge and the Grinch.”

“Good night, Rowen,” Milo said, already opening the door to his shop. “Tell Sadie I want a new sweater by Hollow’s Eve.”