Page 102 of Hades

“Why the long hair?” I ask without skipping a beat.

“Do you not like it?” he asks.

“No, I love it, but it’s just not a normal style for men.”

“At first I let it grow out because I hated getting it cut. Then women started complimenting me on my hair. They always wanted to touch it, but I hated it. Still, it got me attention, and it was easy to throw up when I needed it out of the way, so I figured I would keep it.”

“Can I touch it?”

Not that I haven’t before, but those times were in the bedroom. I’ve never touched his hair in a non-sexual situation.

Without skipping a beat, he reaches up and pulls his hair tie out and lets his hair fall around his shoulders. I scoot closer and rest my arm on the back of the couch and begin to play with it. Hades sinks into my touch, letting out a groan.

“I thought you didn’t like anyone touching it,” I tease.

“Maybe I like you touching it,” he throws back.

I don’t even bother trying to hide my smile.

As ridiculous as it is, I love that he lets me touch it and no one else.

“What about your brother? Does he have long hair?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. His whole body tenses for a moment before he relaxes once again.

“He used to, but I don’t know if he still does. Knowing him, he probably buzzed it short just to look different.”

“Maybe he didn’t,” I offer.

I hate that they are estranged and wish I could fix it, but I’m also smart enough to know that it’s not my place. It never works out when someone tries to fix other people’s family problems, and it only ends in heartache.

“Ask me something,” I demand, trying to salvage the mood.

“What’s your favorite position?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you fuck me and we can find out?” I joke.

His eyes darken. “Don’t distract me. We are supposed to be hanging out and getting to know each other. Besides, I don’t put out on the first date.”

I roll my eyes and fight the urge to remind him I already know that’s not true.

“You’re the one who brought up sex,” I point out.

“I’m a man, and I can’t help that it’s still on my mind from when you talked about your dirty books.”

I pull on his hair lightly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously good-looking.” He smirks.

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask, changing the subject to something more…wholesome.

“Red. You?”

“Also red.”

“Look at us having the same favorite color. It’s almost as if we are a match made in heaven.”

“You never stop, do you?” I ask, lips twitching.