Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Alistair
Fuck me sideways with a cactus. Was Aidan flirting with me?
That’s the thought that’s been on repeat in my head for the past seven-ish hours.
All through the rest of our flight. Through the airport in Portland, and while we picked up our hire car.
Through my phone call with Sam when he gave us the details of the short-term rental condo he found us. Through the drive in rush-hour traffic.
I’m getting pretty tired of that thought. Especially since my brain doesn’t seem to have an answer for it. Do I even want an answer?
Yeah. I do.
The past day has been a real eye-opener for me. I thought I had a problem with Aidan. The truth is, I have a crush on him, and that’s new for me. I don’t know what to do next.
Like… am I supposed to care about him?
Not that I don’t care. He’s another living being, a sort-of colleague, I guess, and my species leader. I care about his general well-being, sure. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him—in fact, it’s my job to actively prevent that.
But am I supposed to want to date him or something? Because I don’t think I do. Not that I’ve ever really wanted to date anyone—it just seemed like the necessary step between meeting them and sex. With the modern relaxation of the stigma around casual sex, it’s mostly not needed anymore.
So can it be a crush if all I really want is to dirty him up between the sheets? What’s a crush without feelings called?
This is all too confusing.
I park the car in the driveway. The condo complex is made up of eight or so townhouses all stuck together, with tiny postage-stamp-sized front lawns. It’s not perfect, but it shits on a hotel.
There’s a key box by the front door, and Aidan gets out of the car and goes to input the code.
A moment later, the garage door begins to open, and he comes back with a remote in his hand as well as two sets of keys.
I wait for him to close the car door before pulling into the garage, even though it would have been more fun to do it with the door open.
Sam yelled at me last time I did that.
For a moment, as the garage door comes down behind us, Aidan and I just sit in the car—I don’t know why. Finally, he sighs and says, “We’ve an hour before the call with your team. Let’s order some food and get set up.”
Food. Oh, fuck yes. I’m so hungry—we paused at the airport for subs and doughnuts, since the food on the plane was not as plentiful as it could have been, but that was barely enough to touch the sides of my stomach.
“Excellent plan,” I tell him as we get out of the car.
“If you order the food, I’ll bring our stuff in and look up where the nearest grocery store is.
” I hope there’s a community grocer close by.
Shopping at a human-run store is a pain—you get odd stares when you fill two carts and then come back to do the same the next day.
Humans really have no idea how much food it takes to sustain shifters.
Not that humans know we exist. But if they did, they’d be shocked by how much food we need. After they finished being shocked about our existence.
“I can manage that,” he agrees, leaning against the car and pulling out his phone. He tosses me a set of keys. “Any preference?”
“Food,” I say bluntly, and he laughs. “Whatever can get here fastest, to start with.”
“Done.”
I leave him scrolling through a delivery app and unlock the door into the house, carrying our bags in one hand.
The garage opens directly into the open-plan downstairs living area, right near the kitchen, which looks out over a tiny back courtyard.
A door to my right presumably leads out there.
A huge island with a line of stools along one side separates the kitchen from the living room.
There’s no dining table, but given the size of the island, we won’t need one.
On the far wall is a staircase leading up, and beside it, a door—which a quick check shows me is a small half bath-slash-laundry room.
Upstairs, four doors lead off the hallway.
The one closest to the stairs is a bathroom, nicely appointed and complete with tub and walk-in shower stall.
I also like the look of the fluffy towels on the rail—they’re nice and big.
Let me tell you, puny towels suck ass. I’m six five and not skinny—I need a towel that will actually dry all of me, not give up the ghost halfway through.
The next door is a decent bedroom with a full-size bed… so not the room for me. My legs would hang over the end of the mattress. Depending on what else I find, this might be Aidan’s room.
Door number three is a bit better—this room has a queen bed and a plush armchair with a little table beside it. I could handle this.
But I’m betting the last room is the master suite—a new-build house this size wouldn’t have only one full bathroom, so there’s probably an en-suite bath attached to a nice big room. Maybe it will even have a king-size bed.
Bubbling with anticipation, I leave our bags in the hallway and reach for the last door, pushing it open slowly, drawing out the tension.
YES! Jackpot.
The master suite does indeed have a king-size bed. It also has a comfortable-looking pair of armchairs by the window and two doors on the far wall. One is open to show an en-suite bath. A quick check of the other reveals a walk-in closet.
This is my room. It’s only logical. Aidan doesn’t need such a big bed, right? Three of him could fit in that thing.
That thought should not make me horny.
I grab my bag from the hallway, then reconsider and take a moment to put Aidan’s in the queen-bed room, leaving the door open so he can see it.
After dumping my stuff, I grab my laptop and make sure my door is closed before I head downstairs.
I don’t want him seeing the bigger room and getting ideas about seniority and all that crap.
In the living room, I set up my laptop on the island and log in to the community web.
By the time Aidan comes in a minute later, still talking on his phone, I’ve located the closest three community grocers, but none are within a half-hour drive.
If we’re here for a while, I’ll make the trip, but for the short-term, it’ll be easier to just shop human.
Aidan ends his call and says, “The first delivery should be only ten minutes away. It’s pizza, which will take the edge off while we wait for the rest.”
“Thank you,” I say fervently. “Depending on how long the meeting goes, I’ll go food shopping either later tonight or first thing in the morning.”
“No hassle,” he assures me. “There’s a decent range of takeout places in this neighborhood, so we should be able to get by with stocking only snacks and emergency food.”
This is the plight of the shifter, my friend. No other species can truly appreciate the trauma we experience just trying to stay fed.
“I put your bag upstairs,” I add as casually as I can. “One of the rooms is on the smallish side, but the other two are good.” He does not need to know that mine is better than his.
“Thanks. I’ll be back.” He crosses the room and takes the stairs two at a time. I sneak a peek from the corner of my eye. Cats do have a certain grace that’s very appealing. Watching his lithe body leap up the stairs makes my cock stir in interest.
Hmm. Maybe I should just see if he’s up for a fuck?
I hear a door open upstairs, and then he laughs.
Uh-oh. I can’t imagine why he would be laughing at the bathroom or the small bedroom—and I think I left those doors open, anyway.
Whoops.
At least he doesn’t sound mad.
A few minutes later, he comes back downstairs still grinning and carrying his laptop. “The other two are good, huh?” he asks.
Fake him out, stonewall. “Yes,” I agree, pretending great interest in my emails.
He chuckles but says nothing else, instead getting himself set up at the other end of the island.
While I appreciate the respect for my space, part of me wishes he was closer.
Maybe then I’d be able to figure out what the fuck is going on with me.
Could it be pheromones? I don’t know what they are exactly, but I watched this movie once where the attraction between two characters was explained as being pheromones they were smelling without realizing it.
Hellhounds do have an awesome sense of smell, and my nose is pretty refined even for a hellhound.
I’m like the chief sniffer. The sniff leader. The supreme snifferoo.
My nose is good.
I’m considering a Google search on pheromones when the doorbell rings.
“Pizza!” I leap off my stool and beeline for the door, Aidan close behind me. The delivery guy stumbles back a few steps when I wrench the door open.
“Whoa. Uh. Aidan?” He looks between us, and I can see that he’s wondering if he should run.
“That’s me,” Aidan says cheerfully. “Let me take those.” He grabs the four extra-large pizzas.
The kid has no choice but to give them up.
“Do I need to sign anything?” Aidan checks as he passes the pizzas to me.
The smell is intoxicating, and I draw it into my lungs, wondering if it would be too rude to start eating right this second. I should wait for Aidan, right?
“N-No, it’s all good,” the delivery kid stammers, taking the tip Aidan offers. From the way his eyes widen, it’s a good one.
“Thanks!” I blurt. If I can’t eat until he leaves, then he needs to leave.
Aidan smiles cheerfully and calls a goodbye, but I’m already retreating into the house. By the time he closes the door, I’ve got the pizzas spread out in the space between our laptops and am flipping open the first box.
He joins me, and I cast him a sideways look. “You’re not going to insist on plates and forks, are you?” I ask warily.
He snorts and snags the first slice. “It’s pizza, not rice.”
Wow, he just got a hundred times hotter.