Page 19 of How to Trust a Hellhound
“That would look great on the television stand. Or any of the tables, really,” I commented, looking around the room.
When my gaze came back to Josh, he was staring at me. “You don’t think it’s… stupid? Having Legos as decorations?”
“Why would it be stupid? They look amazingly well crafted, and you’ve created them. I think it’s unique and fun and fits your personality.”
“Unique and fun isn’t my personality,” Josh muttered.
“Josh, look at me,” I insisted, waiting until his eyes came up to mine. “You’re unique and fun. You’re also intelligent, kind, and giving. Never doubt it.”
He held my gaze for a moment and then shrugged. I could tell he wasn’t quite convinced, but I had time to work on building him back up. It made me want to go and torture his ex, though. Still, I let none of that show on my face. Josh didn’t need anger. He was understandably skittish, and I would not have him afraid of me because I acted like a pup.
“As for rent, we don’t need to worry about that,” I added.
That was apparentlynotthe right thing to say.
Josh looked angry, and he went back behind the kitchen island, placing space between us again before he spoke. “If I’m going to stay here, I insist on paying rent. I’m more than capable of doing so.”
“Ok,” I agreed easily. If it was important to him, I would obviously respect that.
He stuttered a little bit. I didn’t think he’d expected easy acceptance.
“I have no idea what the rates would be—that would be Liam’s area of expertise. Although I’m sure he and Quinton will also argue that you shouldn’t pay rent, so be prepared for that. Quinton can be feisty when he has his mind set on something.”
Josh leaned back against the counter, smiling. “Yes, he really can.”
“I have no doubt you’ll be able to handle him, though,” I added.
Josh looked surprised at that. “Really?”
“Yes. He may be a hellcat, but you’re like your plum blossom,” I said, motioning to the table. “Resilient and able to thrive in even the harshest conditions. A cat is no match for a tree, Mei Ume. You may get scratched up and battered by storms, but your roots are strong.”
Josh looked a little surprised, a little disbelieving, and a little embarrassed at that.
“Oh,” he said. He was endearingly flustered again.
He looked at me and I smiled, then I smelled the faintest tint of arousal in the air. He looked down again, obviously uncomfortable. I had to remind myself to go slow. I was patient. Raising so many second generation hellhounds through adolescence had taught me all the patience I’d ever need.
“I’ll tell Liam you’ll talk to him,” I said. I picked up my now empty plate and walked slowly around the island to put it in the sink. I gave Josh plenty of time to move away, but he didn’t. He just stared at me, biting his lower lip nervously.
Patience, I reminded myself. I had patience.
I headed toward the door, calling over my shoulder, “You relax and enjoy your documentaries and Legos today. I’ll see you later for dinner.” Perhaps it was cheating to not give him time to respond, but I left, firmly shutting the door behind me.
My Mei Ume was persistent and resilient, but he was also stubborn, and I had my work cut out for me in spoiling him. I knew just how to start, though, even if it might require another trip to the storeto pick up some more builds. I thought perhaps I should stock up so I had one to give him whenever he finished what he had. Liam could probably find all sorts of interesting ones online as well.
I smiled to myself, excited to start spoiling Josh. Somehow I thought it might be a bit of a battle, but I was up for the challenge. I was, after all, a first gen hellhound.
Chapter 9
Josh
The next few days passed in a sort of haze. Toby insisted I come over for dinner each night, and it was never just him and Dex—Q, Aiden, or a couple of Dex’s brothers seemed to stop over all the time, too. And Wilder—he always seemed to be there as well, although I could admit to sort of avoiding him. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself with the man again.
Aiden or Q stopped by the cabin each morning or afternoon, depending on their shifts at the coffee shop, and I might have forgotten to eat if they weren’t constantly bringing over food. They didn’t pressure me to talk, which was good, because I couldn’t seem to muster the energy. Mostly I watched documentaries and built Legos, because new sets kept appearing on my doorstep as soon as I finished the one I had. And I slept. I felt like I had never been so tired. I slept all night, and I took naps, dozing on the couch, and sometimes I was amazed to look up and see that the day was gone.
By the weekend, I was no longer wearing the wrapping on my wrist, and my bruises were faded and almost gone, which was quick for a bruise to fade. It occurred to me how sad it was that I knew howlong bruises usually lasted, but I pushed that thought out of my head.
My phone had rung a few times—numbers I didn’t recognize—and I told myself it was just telemarketers. Probably it was. They never left messages. I talked to work, and Barb assured me I didn’t need to do anything until next week, so I didn’t. I just… existed.
