Prickly Business (30 page)

Avery shook his head, chuckling at the memory. “Hello?” he said into the intercom, expecting Jaden to reply.

“It’s me. Dylan.”

Startled, Avery almost jerked his hand away from the panel. As if Dylan needed to clarify. Avery recognized his voice from the first syllable. And what was he doing here, anyway? At this hour, he should be at the shop.

Avery licked his lips, hesitating. Then, without saying a word, he pressed the button to let Dylan into the building.

He paced for the time it took Dylan to get to his loft. At Dylan’s firm knock, his pulse kicked into overdrive.

Avery nervously patted his hair, knowing he probably looked a mess. Nothing to be done for it now. He pulled open the door to reveal Dylan—broad-shouldered, scruffy, and clearly as miserable as Avery felt.

Unthinking, Avery grabbed a handful of Dylan’s shirt and yanked him into the entryway. Their bodies crashed together, Dylan’s scent wrapped around him, and then Avery was climbing Dylan to get at his mouth. He clung to Dylan like a spider monkey, legs and arms tight.

Dylan groaned into the kiss, holding Avery just as fiercely. He carried Avery into the bedroom, and in a rush of shaky hands and clumsy fingers, they stripped each other naked. Dylan paused long enough to slick his cock with the lube sitting on the nightstand, but instead of laying Avery on the bed, he took him against the wall. He gripped Avery’s ass in strong palms, spread him open, and pounded up into him with rough, frenzied thrusts until Avery clawed at his back and came with a sharp little hiss.

Dylan started shuddering before Avery’s orgasm finished. He buried his face in the curve where neck met shoulder and growled out something Avery couldn’t decipher. Dylan’s knot swelled, stretching his sensitive hole, and Avery’s flagging cock tried unsuccessfully to rally for a second round.

“I’m sorry,” Dylan whispered near his ear. They were still locked together, pressed up against the wall.

“Me too.” Avery stroked his hair. “Let’s get in bed.”

Dylan nodded and carried him over to the mattress. He lowered himself to sit on the edge with Avery straddling his lap. Any attempt to lie down or get comfortable would be awkward until the knot waned.

Avery leaned into Dylan and rested his head on Dylan’s shoulder, losing himself in the embrace. After days of stress and worry, he could finally relax. A few minutes later, the pressure inside him lessened. Dylan eased them apart, cleaned them off with a T-shirt he snagged from the floor, then arranged them so they lay face-to-face on the bed.

“I missed you.” He gripped Avery’s nape and pulled him in until their foreheads touched. “I really am sorry. I know it was wrong of me not to tell you.”

Avery rubbed his nose against Dylan’s in an Eskimo kiss. He felt a bit silly for doing it, but he craved the contact. “I… I might have overreacted a little. I just… I don’t need you to try to shelter me from everything. I don’t want you leading me. I don’t want you at my back. I want you beside me. You know what I mean?”

Dylan tipped his chin in a nod. “Yeah. That’s the way it should be. I can’t swear I won’t make stupid decisions sometimes. You have to know, it’s instinct for a wolf to want to protect what they care about. Our women are equally fierce. You should see how they get with their pups.”

“I know.” Avery met Dylan’s eyes. “But you have to promise me you’ll try.”

“I will.” Dylan kissed him lightly. The scrape of his scruff sent a delicious shiver down Avery’s back. “I promise. When I hear about the party, we’ll go together. Okay?”

Avery wasn’t entirely sure he believed Dylan’s words. Not that he thought Dylan was lying intentionally. But Avery knew all about how the nature of the animal affected the behavior of the human. Sometimes the beast wouldn’t be denied, and he knew Dylan might not be able to help himself in the end. He nodded anyway. “Okay.” Nestling closer, Avery dropped a kiss on Dylan’s tattooed shoulder. “It was starting to hurt, being apart. Physically, I mean. I felt uncomfortable, like I had an itch I couldn’t scratch.”

Dylan’s hand tightened on his nape. “Same for me. It’s the bond. My mother told me it gets stronger the more time you spend together, even without the claiming bite.”

Avery trembled at the thought of how it might feel once their bond was consummated. He knew what he was experiencing with Dylan was different from what his parents shared. Werewolves and certain other shifters mated for life, and they were one of the few species that would go feral if they tried to separate from their mate with the bond still intact. Only the death of one, or both, could sever it. The separation wouldn’t have the same effect on Avery—or at least he didn’t think so—but he’d never heard of a hedgehog being mated to a wolf. This could be unprecedented for all he knew.

For a second, Avery wondered if he was in over his head. He’d been talking to Jaden. He understood for Dylan’s sake they wouldn’t be able to be apart for very long once he wore Dylan’s mark. But he was in too deep to walk away. He’d always yearned for this connection in spite of his solitary hedgehog disposition. He wanted to be claimed, yearned to offer Dylan his neck. The differences in their species might always cause them minor issues, given the way their animal traits manifested in their human personalities. Yet they complemented each other. They could be happy. The forever kind of happy. He knew it.

Arguments were part of any relationship. They would fight. Guaranteed. They would also make up, support, and comfort each other. They’d fuck, and sometimes they’d probably yell. And they’d love. There would be lots of love in time. Avery knew that too. They already had a leg up on so many other shifters. They’d found each other, and finding a fated mate was rare. Most shifters fell in love and married the way that humans did. The claiming bite locked them together as thoroughly as a destined pair. Dylan and Avery had been given a gift. He recognized that now.

“Tell me.” Avery pulled back so he could see Dylan’s face. “Tell me everything that happened with that guy.”

Dylan cringed. But after a moment, he opened his mouth and started to talk.

F
OR
A
couple of weeks, they had bliss. There was always an underlying sense of tension, of expectancy, as they waited for contact from Snowflake—and what the hell kind of street name was Snowflake anyway?—but it was good between them. Perfect, in fact.

Some nights they spent at Avery’s loft, some at Dylan’s house. They went out to Wolfhound and played pool with Dylan’s friends, who treated Avery like he was a kid brother. Though he bristled at first, surprisingly, he started not to mind. He liked them all, especially charming Lucas and quiet Kirk.

He and Dylan even had dinner with Dylan’s mom, Miss Betty, and joined Jaden at Howl and Tallgrass a couple of times, which always led to Dylan getting growly and fucking him into a sex coma.

It was already November and there were no new job prospects. Come January, Avery would have to give up his loft. He didn’t like the idea, but no way in hell could he afford to live in the Pearl District on his earnings from the delivery job. He and Jaden had discussed the possibility of him moving in, though Avery suspected Dylan would never abide him living with another male, best friend or not. Likely, he’d end up at Dylan’s place, but they’d cross that bridge later.

All in all, Avery couldn’t complain. He kept Mr. Otis updated, and when they did go out to clubs, he always searched for Frat Boy, but his informal investigation had come to a temporary standstill. He decided to enjoy the time with his mate instead of constantly worrying about it.

One day, after they’d gotten good and sweaty, he heard Dylan’s phone buzz a couple of times while Dylan was in the shower.

Curious, Avery glanced at the screen to see if it was anything important. There were two new text messages.

Ordinarily, he would have left it alone. Then he noticed the contact’s name. “SF.”

Snowflake.
Had to be.

Avery picked up the phone and swiped to reveal the full messages. The first one listed a street address and the name of an affluent suburb about thirty minutes away. The second text said:
8pm. give pw @ door. north carolina.

Avery frowned down at the screen. That last part didn’t make much sense, but whatever. They had a way in.

He might have told Dylan then. Might’ve waited for Dylan to come out of the bathroom so they could formulate a plan. Until he saw those two messages weren’t the only ones Dylan had gotten from Snowflake.

There was another one from a few days back.

auction happening soon. fri. locations rotate. more info 2 cum.

Avery’s throat tightened. Why hadn’t Dylan mentioned this message? He’d promised he would keep Avery in the loop—that they’d work together from now on.

Why didn’t he say anything?

Avery sucked in a trembling breath. Dylan had lied. That was the obvious answer. Or maybe he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t fight his wolf’s instinct to protect, even if it meant keeping secrets from Avery.

Well, two could play at that game. Avery wouldn’t be left behind. Not again.

Avery peeked at the bathroom door. The water was still running. Quickly, he copied the details from Snowflake’s texts into his own phone before deleting the most recent messages.

He’d go alone. He’d look around. Then
he’d
be the one with information to share.
Let’s see how Dylan likes it when the roles are reversed.

Avery didn’t think it would be as easy as showing up and finding Lacey, but maybe he could discover something. The smallest clue. It was worth a shot.

The shower shut off and Avery thrust Dylan’s phone back onto the nightstand. He felt a little guilt, and when Dylan exited the bathroom, Avery darted inside to get himself under control so Dylan wouldn’t sense his remorse.

Honestly, he would’ve shared what he’d learned had Dylan not been hiding things himself. If anyone should feel bad, it was Dylan. He knew how much it had hurt Avery the last time.

Avery would do this, and in doing so, prove to Dylan that he wasn’t some useless weakling. Maybe then Dylan would treat him as an equal.

W
HEN
A
VERY
came out of the shower, Dylan was dressed and ready to leave. His emotions in turmoil, Avery kissed him good-bye.

Dylan gave him a searching look. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was afraid if he opened his mouth, a confession would pour out.

“I’ll call you tonight.” Dylan kissed him again, and with a possessive squeeze of Avery’s ass, he left.

Feeling guiltier by the moment, Avery dressed and headed out to pick up the food for his deliveries. All day the texts from Snowflake weighed heavily on his mind. For one crazy instant, he almost called Jaden and spilled the whole story, but he couldn’t trust that Jaden wouldn’t freak and tell Dylan. For Avery’s own good, of course.

There was really only one person he
could
tell. Mr. Otis. Who else was as motivated about finding Lacey? Avery wasn’t a complete fool. Someone needed to know where he’d be on Friday. In case things went wrong.

When he arrived at Mr. Otis’s house, he found the old wolf in the kitchen with an actual newspaper in hand. Avery didn’t see very many of those anymore.

Mr. Otis peered at him above the page he was reading. He had more color than usual, and his gray hair was neatly combed, a rarity. “Hello, Avery. What’s for lunch today?”

Avery set the food on the counter and dropped into the seat across from Mr. Otis. “We heard from the guy,” he said without preamble.

Mr. Otis lowered his newspaper, giving Avery his full attention.

“There’s going to be an auction soon, and I have a plan….”

D
YLAN
REACHED
a hand out in search of Avery. Nothing. Patting at the sheets blindly didn’t alter the result. Avery’s side of the bed was cold. Dylan cracked an eye open, peered around to make sure he was where he thought he was, and then closed it just as quickly. Avery and his too many damn windows for—Dylan turned and peeked at the clock on the nightstand—six thirty in the godforsaken morning.

Fuck.

He inhaled, the smell of Avery’s lemongrass bodywash consuming him. He’d roll in that shit if it meant he could keep that part of Avery with him all day. Dragging his hands down his face, Dylan finally gave in to the call of the morning and rolled to the edge of the bed to sit up. No use trying to go back to sleep, not that he could without Avery anyway. It was strange. Where Dylan used to rise before the sun, now he was rolling out of bed with barely enough time to open the shop punctually. And it didn’t bother him. The reason for that?
Avery.

Like every morning since he got the text from Snowflake preparing him for the upcoming party, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand. He hit the button, lighting it up, and grinned. Another of Avery’s selfies filled the home screen. Avery’s profile, sleep mussed hair, teasing light in his hazel eyes as he leaned over to place an overly exaggerated pucker of a kiss on a sleeping Dylan’s cheek. The brat had to have taken it before he disappeared from bed this morning. It hadn’t been there last night. Christ, with the fluttering in his belly from that mischievous look in Avery’s eyes. Smiling down at that picture, a thought struck Dylan and he thumbed through his texts to no avail. He should probably set up a lock code for his phone, but then again, that would probably rouse suspicion from Avery.

Dylan sighed. It was Thursday. It had been only a couple of days since he’d received the last text from Snowflake and he still had plenty of time to pass along the last of the information about the party. Yet Dylan couldn’t help feeling antsy. Keeping this from Avery wasn’t his intention, but right now there was nothing to tell. Not really. He just didn’t want Avery worrying over nothing until there was something solid in front of them, something they could plan for.