Page 130 of How Not to Date an Angel

Julian grunted and pushed away from the desk, heading toward the door. There was nothing he could say to change Carl’s mind.

He was stuck here.

“You’ll be just like me one day, Julian, just wait!” Carl called.

What a selfish, smarmybastard.

Julian slammed the door, the sound echoing down the long, never-ending hallway in one of the many office settings of Hell.

Julian lifted his hands to tangle in his hair, bumping into his horns in the process.

He felt the shorter length, remembered the way it felt for Rami to touch them, and his heart sank at the same time anger flared.

He turned and kicked the door to his boss’s office. “Fuck you, Carl!” he shouted.

It did little to curb his frustration, and he—

“Julian?” a familiar voice asked.

Startled, he turned, finding none other than Galen, the Devil of the Seventh Region of Hell. Julian’s former boss, before he’d shifted to the Sixth to take the temptation position.

Now he had an asshole for a bossandhe was stuck here.

“What are you doing here?” Julian asked. It wasn’t often that the lead devils visited another region.

“I was here for a meeting,” he said, tilting his head at the door behind Julian.

Oh. Julian stepped to the side. “Enjoy,” he muttered.

“How’s the Sixth Region treating you?” Galen asked, then frowned. “What happened to your horn?”

Julian shot him a look filled with a thousand words, and he winced.

“Ah.” Galen stiffened, his gaze trailing to the door before sliding back to Julian. “It looks like something’s come up. I can’t make my meeting,” he said. “Want to walk with me?”

Julian had nothing better to do, and nodded. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked, wings tucked tight to his back so he and Galen could walk alongside each other.

“How’s Maeve?” Julian asked.

Galen got that dopey smile on his face as he glanced over. “Oh, she’s great. Wanna say hi?”

“Sure—”

Before Julian could even finish his response, Galen winked them into his office, where Maeve was sitting in his chair behind his big, ornate desk.

“Julian!” she said, and hopped out of the chair, rounding the desk to hug him.

His eyes burned and he swallowed. No one in Hell was as nice as Maeve and Galen. They deserved each other.

“Glad to see you fully clothed this time,” he teased, voice tight.

“Well, it’s your fault for not knocking,” she scolded.

“Actually, I think the fault falls on the people who were using the desk in such a manner at the peak of the work day,” he drawled, staring at Galen with an arched brow. The humor felt hollow.

“Call us selfish,” Maeve said with a wink. She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “I’ll find someone else to terrorize while you two talk.”

“Thanks, babe,” Galen said, and leaned down for a kiss.

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