Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(58)

“Greyson.” Grinning, the guy held out his hand.

She shook it. “And I have Greyson here, who seems like a great traveling companion.”

“I’m the best.”

Damian glowered and for a brief, hot second, Rose thought she’d won. Grinning triumphantly, she waited for the train doors to open when Damian’s rambling mumbles turned her to watch him reaching for his pants.

“What are you doing?” Rose couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Giving thanks I washed my damn underwear last night.”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he pushed his jeans down … and then she couldn’t contain her laughter. Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried sucking in oxygen—and failed.

Puppy faces, wearing oversized sunglasses, and interspersed with thick, puffy clouds and smiling cartoon suns, decorated Damian’s colorful boxers.

“You think this is funny?” Damian demanded.

She nodded, unable to contain her giggles. “Immensely.”

“Now can we talk?”

“Sure.” The train doors opened, and the crowd instantly moved, Rose included. “But you better move fast.”



* * *



Never in a million years would Damian have guessed he’d reach this level of desperation, and yet there he was, following a pantsless woman into a crowded NYC subway car with people who were as equally without clothes on the lower half of their body.

Himself included.

At some point, he’d lost all control of the situation—if he even had it to begin with.

Ignoring the amused glances of the people around them, he followed Rose into the train, happy she did exactly as she’d said, and went to the nearest support pole instead of plopping into a seat.

Damian shifted, blocking the view of her body from as many eyes as possible as he leaned in, dropping his voice for her ears only. “Look, I don’t know what Jules was thinking putting the Hunting idea into your head, but I’m here to yank it right back out. You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into.”

Her eyes damn near glowed as she drilled him with a hard glare, and damn if he didn’t feel the sharp edge of Magic crackling the air around them. A few of the other commuters must have felt it as well because heads turned their way.

Rose bristled. “Because a woman like me couldn’t possibly understand anything other than the proper way to smile and wave without throwing out my wrist?”

“Whoa. No. Don’t put words in my mouth. You know what I mean.”

“Do I though?” She lifted her chin and turned, facing him from the other side of the pole. “You don’t think it’s a good idea. And you don’t think I’d be any good at it—”

“Again putting words into my mouth,” Damian cut her off.

“So you do think it’s a good idea…”

“I think it’s a disaster waiting to happen, but not because I don’t think you’d be any good. As a matter of fact, I think you’d be fucking great at it, and that’s why I’m concerned.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes the world of sense, but the fact you don’t realize it proves my point.”

“You don’t get it.” She ignored the growing number of stares from nearby commuters. “You have no idea what it’s like to fail at everything you do. To have no clue where your talent lies because you’ve never had a chance to figure it out. I finally found one of those talents—after thirty-three freakin’ years of life—and you’re saying I should ignore it. In the wise words of Vi, that’s a pretty dickish move, even for you.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Not to mention he should’ve known better than to approach her with a growling demand. If anything, he’d reinforced her desire to go through with Julius’s asinine plan.

Damian mentally shifted tactics and prayed he hadn’t already fucked it up. He met her gaze and cursed, scrubbing his hand over his face.

Prayer wouldn’t be enough.

“This isn’t about you or your abilities,” he admitted truthfully. “This is about Julius. I know you think a lot of him, but you have no idea what it’s like to work with him, Rose. For him. I do. It’ll be fine until you disagree on a case, and then the Mr. Nice Guy gloves come off.”

“I trained my entire life to become the next Prima. I can handle Supernaturals like Julius Kontos.”

“What happens the first time you’re told to bring in a frail grandfather whose only long-term goal is to see his grandchildren get married? Not all cases are like the Gryndors. A lot hover solidly in the gray area.”

“Why would the Council want a sweet old man hauled in to stand trial?”

“Maybe because that old man wasn’t always so sweet, and it took a long time for his past to catch up with him. Maybe he forgot to tip his waitress. I don’t know, and the point is that whether or not you agree with the reasoning for the haul-in, you’ll have no choice but to do it.”

“I can handle it.”

“You’re not taking any of this seriously. Let’s grab a coffee or something and talk about this more … please,” Damian added.

“Sure…”

“Yeah?” Well, damn … that was easy.