Bo was waiting exactly where I’d left him when I stepped back into the bedroom, sprawled across the edge of the bed. Lying there like a creature who had never once paid rent or respected a person’s personal space in his life. He looked upwhen he heard me, his gaze flicking immediately to my outfit, then back to my face with exaggerated scrutiny.
“Well, don’t you look all office-y. Like someone who definitely didn’t almost get eaten by Hell last night,” he said with a wag of his wrinkled brows.
“Careful,” I replied, grabbing my black suit jacket and slipping it on as I moved past him.
“That mouth of yours is the reason I’m going to have to set ground rules.”
“Uh oh. I hate ground rules.” His ears twitched as he grimaced.
“Tough shit, matey,” I said, turning to face him properly, my tone sharpening just enough that he paused.
“Listen to me, Bo. Today matters. I need this job. I like being able to pay rent and eat food and occasionally buy pizza without having an existential crisis.”
“Pizza is sacred,” he agreed solemnly.
“Yes,” I nodded, seizing the opportunity.
“And pizza disappears when people become homeless. So, here’s the deal. You don’t interfere. You don’t comment. And you most definitely don’t do… whatever the hell it was you were doing yesterday.”
“I was being helpful.” He frowned.
“And just how is pretending to piss on people helpful?” I shot back, making him grin.
“Laughter is a remarkable stress reliever,” he informed me, making me point out,
“Yes, but being homeless isn’t, so here’s the deal. For now, you can stay, at least until I can figure this shit out, but if you jeopardize my work, my income, or my ability to pretend my life is even remotely normal, I will fix this problem,” I said, waving my hand between us, making him cross his arms, unimpressed.
“Threatening me now, Lily-pad?”
“Absofuckinglutely, I’m threatening you,” I confirmed calmly.
“And if you push me, I will go straight back to that club, so help me, by the Goddess, I don’t care what he does to me or what bargain he makes me sign, do you understand?” Now that got his attention.
His posture shifted, the humor draining just enough that I knew I’d hit something real.
“You wouldn’t,”he tested, making me raise a brow at him.
“Try me, buddy Bo boy,” I said evenly, holding his gaze.
“I don’t care how scary he is. I don’t care if he’s some high-ranking, soul-judging, Hellish nightmare in very expensive clothes. If you mess this up for me, I will march right back in there and make him get rid of you.” The image flashed through my mind uninvited. White eyes, unyielding arms, a voice that promised ownership, and my stomach flipped unpleasantly. I shoved it down and kept going.
“I mean it,” I added and when he didn’t reply, I continued on.
“This is temporary. I will figure out how to send you home. But until then, you behave.”
For a long second, he just studied me, sharp eyes searching my face as if weighing whether I was bluffing. Then, slowly, he lifted his hands in surrender.
“Okay,” he said, surprisingly subdued and enough that I gave him a skeptical look in return.
“I get it. No sabotage. No haunting your workplace. Cross my heart and hope not to get shafted by Lucifer.”
I made an ‘eww’ face, ignoring the shafted part, and said,
“Good, because if you think I won’t choose my livelihood over you, you are wildly mistaken.”
He snorted, some of the edge returning.
“Wow. Cold.”
