I began counting the money. “This is fifty dollars more than you took. I thought you didn’t get paid until Thursday.”
“I forgot about the OnlyStans payout this month.”
“Youhave an OnlyStans?”
“Sure do. Just don’t make much money off of it.”
“Surprising,” I said, following him. “Can’t imagine why.”
Roscoe continued rifling through the fridge. “Hey, it’s a saturated market. Just about every werewolf’s got a big dick, so it ain’t like I’m anything special.”
“I’m going to regret asking this, but… what exactly do you do on that app?”
“Sometimes I jack off.”
I waited as he turned and leaned against the countertop, popping open a can of beer.
“And?”
Roscoe took a few gulps before responding. “And what?”
“Sometimes I wonder how you get up the motivation to keep breathing,” I muttered, stuffing the money into my pocket, though not before setting the extra fifty on the counter. “It’s not even like you have to put in that much effort. It’s OnlyStans. Get some mood lighting, wear a harness, and shove a huge dildo up your lazy ass.”
“Sounds like you know what yer doing,” he said, eyeing the money. “That’s yers, by the way.”
“No, it’s not. You need to find your own place to live.”
“Dude…” The werewolf trailed off and took another sip of beer.
“I gave it some thought, and the whole thing doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t know you, and you’re being a little too pushy about this. It’s like you’re hiding something.”
“I ain’t hidin’ nothing,” Roscoe snapped, his ears lowering against his head. “And you knew me well enough to let me fuck you… twice.”
“That’s just a hookup, remember?”
Roscoe crinkled the empty can before tossing it into the garbage. “I’ll pay half the rent. Hell, I’ll even buy the groceries. Come on, that’s a good deal. Think of all the money you’ll save.”
“I’ll be making enough money with my new job—oh.” The events from earlier made more sense. “Now I know why you had a shitty attitude.”
“I didn’t have a shitty attitude. I was happy for ya.”
“Uh huh,” I muttered. “It’s nothing against you. I just don’t want a roommate.”
“You mean, you don’t want awerewolfroommate,” he corrected, grabbing another beer from the fridge. “Sounds like someone’s a little racist.”
“Nice try,Roscoe. You sound about as white and southern as Jimmy Dean. Also, you were the one just wearing a white sheet over your head.”
He wrinkled his nose, seemingly trying to come up with something else to make me feel sorry for him.
“Listen, I get it. It ain’t the first time I’ve heard that,” he said walking over to me before setting the open can on the counter. Roscoe was so close, he was practically pushing against me as my back hit the wall. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel nothin’ for me.”
This werewolf was a lot more dangerous than I’d suspected, and not because he had sharp teeth, claws, and deadly body odor. He knew how to manipulate people, and for some fucked up reason, it was kind of hard to resist.
I stared at the floor and remained silent.
“Dakota,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically soft.
“Call me Cody. Dakota pisses me off.”
