31. Presley
Presley
I wake up really warm and comfortable. Which is strange considering I'm sitting mostly upright on a couch with my neck bent at an angle that should require medical intervention.
I blink at the dying fire. For a few seconds, I don't remember why I'm here.
Then something moves beneath my cheek.
My eyes widen.
Hades.
I'm sleeping on Hades.
My cheek is pressed against his chest. One of my legs is tangled with his, and sometime during the night, his arm ended up wrapped around me.
Penny is wedged between his thigh and the back of the couch.
Apparently, we've become a family of fucking sardines.
I slowly lift my head. Hades's eyes are closed. Good. Maybe I can extract myself with some dignity.
I move approximately half an inch.
His arm tightens around me. “Don't.”
I freeze.
His voice is rougher than usual. Sleepy. Sexy. And completely unfair this early in the morning.
“You're awake.”
“I am now.”
“I need to move.”
“Why?”
“Because my neck is going to file for divorce.”
His chest moves beneath my hand when he laughs.
I push myself upright, immediately wincing as several muscles protest. “Jesus.”
“Told you not to move.”
“That wasn't going to fix my neck.”
“You seemed comfortable.”
“I was unconscious.”
“Same thing.”
I glare at him.
His hair is messy. Not styled messy, but actually messy.
He looks damn good.
His sweatshirt is wrinkled, his eyes heavy with sleep, and for the first time since I met him, Hades looks slightly less intimidating.
Still hot.
Still six feet plus of probably has a body buried somewhere.
But softer.
My gaze catches on his mouth.
His eyes drop to mine. And suddenly, there's nothing soft about him.
“Morning,” he murmurs.
My stomach flips.
“Morning.”
His hand still rests on my hip. Neither of us mentions it. Or moves it.
Penny stretches between us, her tiny body somehow occupying three times the space physics should allow.
Hades looks down. “You comfortable?”
Her tail thumps once against the couch.
“Of course she is. She slept all night while we destroyed our spines.”
“I slept fine.”
I narrow my eyes. “Good for you.”
His mouth curves.
I should move.
Instead, I keep staring at him.
Last night comes rushing back.
The festival.
The mask.
Hades chasing him.
Coming home.
Hades checking the house and staying because I asked him to.
I felt safe in Hades’s arms. Not worried that a white mask would appear beyond the glass.
His thumb moves against my hip. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Thank you for staying.”
Something changes in his expression. “You asked me to.”
Like that explains everything.
Maybe to him, it does.
“You could've left after I fell asleep.”
“I told you I wasn't going anywhere unless you asked me to.”
My chest does that stupid aching thing again. “Most people say things they don't mean.”
“I don't.” He says it with zero hesitation.
I study him.
I barely know this man.
I know he has a younger brother he'd do anything for. I know they had a childhood bad enough that he describes it as something they survived. I know he keeps emergency clothes in his truck and reads dark romance when a woman in a bookstore tells him to.
I know he likes his coffee black.
That Penny adores him.
And that he chased a masked psychopath through Hollow Creek because the man scared me.
Yet despite the things I don’t know about him, I believe him.
I smile. “I should make coffee.”
“Now?”
I stare at him. “Do you have something against coffee?”
“Not at all.”
“Because you've questioned my coffee consumption twice in less than twelve hours.”
“I'm gathering information.”
I pause. Something about the words sends the faintest shiver down my spine.
Hades’s eyes darken. “About your coffee habits.”
I exhale. “Good clarification.”
His mouth curves.
I climb off him.
This time he lets me.
By the time I've consumed enough caffeine to become a functioning member of society, the morning has turned beautiful. Cold, but beautiful.
Sunlight filters through the trees behind the house, turning the remaining leaves into shades of orange and gold.
Penny scratches at the back door.
“You need out?”
She scratches again.
“I'll take that as a yes.”
I reach for my jacket, then shove my feet into a pair of boots.
Hades stands.
“You don't have to come.”
“I know.”
There's that answer again.
I smile despite myself.
We step onto the back porch. The air smells like damp leaves, pine, and the faint trace of woodsmoke still clinging to my clothes.
Penny charges into the yard like she's been imprisoned for six months instead of approximately eight hours.
Hades watches her. “She always like this?”
“Unfortunately.”
Penny disappears into a pile of leaves.
A second later, her head pops out.
Hades laughs.
The sound does something ridiculous to my heart.
“She likes the woods,” I say.
His gaze moves toward the tree line. “So do you.”
I look at him. “How do you know?”
His attention returns to me. “You told me.”
“Did I?”
“At the bookstore.”
I try to remember.
Maybe I did.
I've told him a lot of things. Apparently he actually listens.
Penny races toward the trail. “Penny!”
She stops and looks back.
“Don't go too far.”
She trots forward.
“She listens well,” Hades says.
“You should've seen her while you were in the bathroom. She was pretending she couldn't hear me asking if she wanted breakfast.”
We follow her toward the trees. The trail is damp beneath my boots, covered with leaves that crunch softly as we walk.
Hades stays beside me.
For several minutes, we don't talk.
It's becoming one of my favorite things about him. Silence with Hades doesn't feel like something I have to fix.
Penny runs ahead, stops to sniff something, then races back.
“How about we turn around, put Penny in the house, and take a walk?”
I look up at him. “Okay.”
Hades whistles and Penny comes running. We turn around and head back to the house.
Once she’s locked inside, we resume our walk on the trail.
I glance at Hades. “So...”
“So?”
“Did you start reading it?”
His eyebrows raise.
“The book.”
He smirks. “I did.”
“What do you think so far?”
“It’s been... educational.”
I snort. “That sounds ominous.”
“It answered some questions.”
“About?”
“You.”
My steps slow.
Hades keeps walking another pace before turning toward me.
“Me?”
“You recommended it.”
“That doesn't mean it's an autobiography.”
“No?”
“No.”
He watches me so intently, it makes me feel like he's peeling layers away without ever touching me.
“It’s similar to the first recommendation you gave me, but different.”
“It is.”
“Especially certain parts.”
Heat creeps into my face.
Oh. Yeah. Those parts.
“You remember that conversation?”
“I remember everything you tell me.”
My stomach flips.
“You asked me an unfair question.”
“I gave you two choices.”
“Exactly. Unfair.”
His smile appears. “What did you say?”
I know exactly what I said. Unfortunately.
I avoid his eyes, focusing on the trail instead. “I don't remember.”
“Liar.”
I gasp. “Excuse me?”
“You remember.”
“I've read a lot of books.”
His gaze holds mine. “One scene involved the heroine being chased through the woods.”
My pulse jumps.
“The other involved him breaking into her bedroom and tying her up.”
I swallow.
Hades takes one slow step closer. “And you said—”
“I know what I said.”
His smile deepens. “What was it?”
I glare at him.
He waits.
Asshole.
“Why choose?”
His eyes darken.
The air suddenly feels colder against my heated skin.
“There it is.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves you liked both.”
“In fiction.”
“Of course.”
The way he says it makes me narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Hades.”
His gaze drifts past me toward the trees. Then back. “What if it wasn't fiction?”
My breath catches.
For one ridiculous second, I think about the mask. The bookstore. Being chased between shelves. A gloved hand around my waist.
I push the memory away.
“What are you asking?”
Hades steps closer. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back.
His voice drops. “I'm asking whether you'd run.”
My heart slams against my ribs. “From you?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him.
He's serious.
“You want me to run from you?”
His expression darkens. “I want you to decide whether you want to run from me.”
Everything inside me stills.
Because there’s a difference.
The Masked Man didn't ask.
He appeared. He chased. He decided.
And as fucked up as it is, I liked parts of it.
But this—
Hades is standing in front of me. No mask. No distorted voice. No darkness hiding his face.
And he's asking.
Giving me the choice.
My pulse pounds harder. “What happens if I say no?”
“We keep walking.”
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
“And if I say yes?”
His eyes drag slowly over me. “Then you run.”
I swallow. “And you?”
“I catch you.”
My thighs clench. He didn’t say chase. He said catch.
Fuck.
He sees it. I know he does. Something almost predatory settles over his face.
“Presley.”
“What?”
“You're thinking too loudly.”
I grin, but it quickly fades.
I look toward the trail. Trees surround us.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“You're enjoying this.”
“Very much.”
I look at him. “What happens if you catch me?”
“When I catch you.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Whatever you want.”
That shouldn't be the hottest possible answer, but it is.
“And if I want you to stop?”
“I stop. No hesitation.”
My heart continues hammering. “Safe word?”
His eyes sharpen. For a fraction of a second, something unreadable crosses Hades's face. Then it's gone.
He nods. “We should have one.”
“Agreed.”
I look at the trees again, then at him. “Okay. Pumpkin.”
His eyebrow rises. “Pumpkin?”
“It's Halloween.”
“Pumpkin it is.”
“If I say it—”
“Everything stops.” The certainty in his voice settles something inside me.
I nod.
Hades doesn't move. Doesn't pressure. Just stands there while I make the decision.
And God help me, I want this.
“I'll run.”
Something dark and hungry flashes in his eyes. His jaw tightens. “Say it again.”
“I want you to chase me.”
The look he gives me nearly changes my mind for an entirely different reason.
Jesus Christ.
He steps backward.
“How long do I get?”
His smile makes my pulse jump. “Thirty seconds.”
I stare at him.
“That's it?”
He smirks. “One minute.”
Fuck.
“Cocky bastard.”
“Fifty-nine.”
My mouth drops open. “You started already?”
“Fifty-eight.”
“Hades!”
“Fifty-seven.”
I turn and look at the woods. There’s a smaller, rockier trail in the distance.
“Fifty-five.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“That's the plan.”
My entire body ignites. “HADES.”
“Fifty-three.”
I run.
His laughter follows me into the trees.
For the first few seconds, this is hilarious. Freeing.
I follow the smaller trail, the leaves rustling beneath my boots. I nearly slip on a large pile of them and grab a tree for balance.
I push farther into the woods, my lungs already burning.
Be quiet.
But it’s hard.
I’m not used to running, let alone doing it on uneven terrain.
I reach a small clearing, and instead of continuing on the trail, I run into the thick forest. My legs are already aching. My lungs burn. And it feels like something is stabbing my side.
But I keep moving.
I slow, looking around for a spot to hide.
Then I hear his heavy footsteps behind me. And it stops being funny.
Shit. How is he so close already?
Fear and adrenaline combine as I pick up the pace, unwilling to let him catch me so easily.
Hades is fast. Really fucking fast.
My boots slam against the damp ground. Leaves crunch beneath my feet. Branches scrape my jacket as I push myself to run faster.
Why did I leave the path?
I'm an idiot. A horny idiot who apparently has no survival instincts.
I risk a glance behind me.
I don’t see him.
I slow.
A branch snaps somewhere to my right.
I spin around.
Nothing.
“Hades?” My breathless voice trembles.
Silence.
My heart pounds.
I turn slowly, searching between the trees.
Where the hell is he?
“Hades?”
Still nothing.
A nervous laugh escapes me. “This isn't funny.”
Nothing.
My pulse kicks harder.
He could be anywhere. Watching. Waiting.
The thought sends a delicious shiver through me.
Until I realize that maybe we aren’t the only ones out here.
A branch snaps behind me.
I don't even look. I just fucking run.
My lungs burn as I weave between trees, laughter bubbling out of me despite the adrenaline.
Then I hear footsteps, fast and heavy, getting closer.
They’re directly behind me.
“Oh, shit.”
I push harder.
A hand catches the back of my jacket.
I scream.
I’m spun around, my back hitting a tree. His hand immediately moves behind my head, cushioning it before it can strike the trunk.
His body cages mine.
It’s Hades.
He’s breathing hard. His eyes are dark and wild.
It shouldn’t be so hot.
But it is.
For several seconds, neither of us speaks.
I stare up at him. This isn't the man who sat beside me last night rubbing Penny's belly.
Except it is. That's what makes my stomach twist deliciously.
Hades's hand is still behind my head. The other rests against my hip.
“Scared?” His voice is rough.
“A little.”
His eyes darken further.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
As if that’s all he needed to hear, his mouth crashes into mine. I grab his sweatshirt and drag him closer.
The kiss is nothing like the ones I've imagined. It's rougher. Hungrier. Like he's been holding something back since the moment we met and finally decided he's done pretending.
His hand tightens on my hip.
I moan against his mouth.
Hades pulls back just enough to look at me. “Still good?”
“Yes.”
He kisses me again. My fingers slide into his hair. He makes a low sound in his throat that sends heat straight between my legs.
And suddenly I understand something that should probably concern me.
I like this.
Not just him.
The adrenaline. The chase. The moment when I couldn't see him but knew he was somewhere behind me. The certainty that he would catch me.
Hades breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against mine. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
His jaw flexes. “That's not specific enough.”
I laugh breathlessly. “Seriously?”
“Very.”
My cheeks heat. “Hades.”
“Tell me.”
I stare into those smoky gray eyes.
Then I tell him.