Taylor growled. “Because, Amil, if I stay at home I’ll pace. If I go to the hospital, I’ll pace. If I spend the day in the woods, I’llpace. If I go to the pack house I’ll get a thousand questions, then I’ll pace. I’d rather just come to work for the distraction.”
And he could safely say that he had never uttered those words before in his entire life.
Work, at one time or another, had stopped being enjoyable and just became a chore, even with Johnny there to piss about with. However, despite his terrible mood he realised that somehow, some way, Dingly Heath had gotten under his skin, and for some reason he actually looked forward to rolling into the car park. He even enjoyed checking his emails, which he was in the process of doing when Amil pulled up the seat next to him.
Not that he’d ever tell Amil that he didn’t hate seeing his stupid little face every day. Or Isla. Or Wendy. Or Molly at the greengrocer’s. Or Sid at the hardware shop with the funny little ferret that kept biting customers. Or Betty at the pharmacy who couldn’t stop nicking cough sweets.
Amil sighed, cradling a cup of tea between his hands. “He’s going to be okay, you know? I might not be the biggest fan of alphas, but even I can appreciate how crazy fast you guys heal. Dislocated shoulder? Shove it right back in. Broken arm? ’Tis but a scratch. Like… save some of it for the rest of us, you know?”
Taylor pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, wondering just who the hell Amil was quoting.
Taylor turned his attention back to his emails. There was one about a community litter picking campaign asking if he would like to assist in taking the elderly out for the day. Er,yeswas the answer because he’d always wanted to use one of those grabby sticks.
He took a breath, feeling Amil’s eyes on him. “What?”
“Nothing,” Amil replied, voice unusually quiet. “I just wanted to say that…” Amil’s jaw was working, as though he was physically struggling to get the words out.
“Spit it out, dude.”
Amil held his cup tighter and said, “JustthatIthoughtyoudidgood, okay? Jesus.” He rubbed his chin, spinning his chair around until he was looking out of the window. “Both of you.”
Taylor’s nostrils flared, warmth flooding his face. “Thanks,” he said, nibbling his bottom lip. “Did you see how fast I ran?”
He watched as Amil rolled his eyes in the reflection on the window. “Never seen your fat arse shift so quick.”
“Fat?” Taylor said, toeing Amil’s chair and spinning it around in a full circle. “Fat?I’ll have you know that I’m a prime specimen of alpha strength.”
Amil scoffed, planting his feet on the floor to stop the chair from turning. “Telling yourself that doesn’t make it true.”
“And telling yourself that you don’t fix your hair fifty times a day doesn’t make it true either. I’ve seen the fold-up comb you keep in your stab vest.”
“Piss off. At least I don’t have hair brighter than the sun.”
Taylor shrugged. “At least I stand out in a crowd.”
Amil laughed, a sound that was so unbelievably alien it made Taylor shudder.
“Jesus, rein it in,” he said. “Sounded like your soul was trying to escape.”
“At least I have a soul.”
“Ha-ha, how very fucking original. Keep it up and you’ll be fast-tracked to superintendent in no time.”
Amil crossed his arms, turning back towards the window.
Groaning, Taylor kicked his chair. “Go on, then. Tell me how I’ve put my foot in it this time.”
Amil scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t—I’ll never go for promotion. Ever.”
Taylor cocked a brow. “No? But you know your stuff. Plus, you’d love to boss someone like me around, so why wouldn’t you?”
Amil mumbled something, scratching his neck even harder. “I told you that Isla and I came to Dingly Heath together.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, she was my fed rep earlier in the year. I was… going through some stuff with one of my supervisors. She supported me.”
Taylor let out a breath. “I didn’t know she’s a fed rep. Jesus, you couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to do that job. HR hates me.”
