Page 48 of Hex and the City
Max reached for my hand, gently pulling me toward him, like a natural reflex. Possessive, and in a way, protective, too. I tried not to look so pleased and flustered.
“I wish you could have met under better circumstances,” he continued. “But, yeah. Leon, I’d like you to meet my best friend.”
“How many best friends could you possibly have?” I asked. “Kidding. Hi. Nice to meet you. Thanks for not killing me.”
She frowned at my hand, then grudgingly took it. She stepped closer, her handshake firm, almost crushing.
“Tina,” the woman said, unsmiling as she memorized my face. “My name is Tina.”
22
MAX
“She could have just asked me, you know?” Leon poked his head into my kitchen cupboards, stuck it out again to loudly inform me of his displeasure. “Whatever happened to saying hello?”
“Yeah, I’m with you on this,” I said, nursing a glass of plain water at my kitchen counter. “And did Tina really say she was worried about you hurting me? Very sweet of her. Also: as if.”
He whipped his head out of the cupboard so quickly I thought it would come right off his shoulders. He glowered, throwing me his dirtiest look yet.
“Max, I could totally rough you up if I wanted to. I just don’t want to make the effort. But just so you know. Keep it in mind.”
I leaned my chin on my hand, grinning. “No. Please. Don’t.”
Leon rolled his eyes and went back to his treasure hunt. I had no doubts whatsoever about his abilities — he knew more about my magic than I knew about his, for one thing. He was just really, really cute when he sulked and pouted.
I’d offered to let Leon stay over at my apartment for the night. Too late for him to catch a bus home, and I was far too tired to drive him, anyway. It was the least I could do after my bestest friend — who won by a small margin over my other two best friends — had almost beheaded my potential new work partner in the darkness of a smelly alley.
No ulterior motives. Honestly. Promise.
We’d both had a long fucking day, and we both needed our rest. Leon, evidently, also needed some calories. He rummaged through my kitchen cupboards with increasing desperation, even after I told him that he’d already turned my actual pantry upside down.
“There’s got to be something edible here,” he muttered. “A bag of chips. Anything. I’m starving.”
“Not much of a snacker,” I said with a shrug. “But you’re welcome to help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge.”
We’d decided to crash at my apartment for the night. It felt like the least I could do for Leon after the attack outside the club. Not that I blamed Tina for any of it. How could she have known that Leon wasn’t out to get me? Still, she could have asked me herself before taking matters into her own hands.
And now Leon needed his snacks, possibly from burning out his arcane essence. He tugged the refrigerator open, his face bathed stark white by its chill glow.
“Oh my God, Max. You really are a serial killer.”
I stuck my head in next to him, relishing the coolness of the refrigerator on my face. “Well, if you consider rolled oats a cereal, then I suppose I do kill a bag every few weeks. Most breakfast cereal is just too sugary, you know.”
He poked me in the ribs, giving me a confused smile. “You’re so weird, Max. It’s cute.”
I returned my gaze to the inside of the fridge, hoping the cool air would mitigate the blush I could feel creeping up to my cheeks. But what a beautiful sight.
Little tubs of perfectly cubed fruit, jars of dry overnight oat ingredients waiting to be activated with exactly one cup of oat milk. One jar was already soaking up some milk, ready to be consumed in the morning, if not sooner. The glass containers glistened, each containing the perfect serving of carbohydrates and fat and protein. My personal meal prep city.
Heaven. Everything in order, everything in its place.
“Just saying,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “What’s the point of living without a little variety? You’re so comfy here. You can afford a dinner out every now and then. Hell, an entire pizza.”
I recoiled. “You eat whole pizzas? By yourself? But what about my macros?”
Leon threw his hands up. “Yourwhat? I couldn’t eat like this every day. Don’t you get tired of it?”
“I genuinely don’t. What makes you think I don’t enjoy the things I eat every day? They keep my body fed and healthy, but they’re also some of my favorite foods. What’s wrong with that?”
