Hazed behind the whisps of smoke and oversized sweatshirts from Hollister, Kenji Tanaka is a sassy, sharp-tongued omega, and he meets Meena - the son of a notorious crime boss posing as a legitimate businessman to anyone in law enforcement - who wou...
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Kenji climbed down the carpeted staircase, and strolled into the fluorescent-lit kitchenette. The smell of freshly-baked gingerbread wrapped him in a cloud of addicting apprehension of the sweet taste in his mouth.
Kenji trailed his tongue along his lips at the thought of biting into the cookies.
The soft hum of ❛Silent Night❜ played from the gray sphere on the counter. Athena delicately colored intricate designs with thin, ivory icing onto the warm-brown cookies.
Athena peered up to scowl at him. ❝No, Kenji. Beau's making lunch first. The cookies are for after lunch.❞
❝But why?❞ Kenji whined childishly, pouting.
Athena chuckled. ❝Because it's a rule.❞ He dropped red and green M&M's in vertical lines down the doughy, gingerbread men to be their buttons.
Kenji cracked open a cherry-flavored Coke, chilling his palms. The fruity flavor fizzed and bubbled as it ran down his throat. He winced. He used to drink Coca-cola all the time, and cherry's were his favorite. But without the aid of rum, the flavor was too dull and unfamiliar.
❝Is Juno staying for dinner?❞ Athena mused, drying his hands with a peppermint dish-towel.
Kenji swallowed another sip from his can. ❝Probably. He's still sleeping at the moment, passed out cold. I left a glass of water and an Advil bottle beside him.❞
Athena half-smiled. He had his fair share of that combination, courtesy of Beau, who was sober most of college. He was studying to be a Physician's Assistant, so partying wasn't in his plans. ❝Okay. Go see if you can help Avery clean up the yard,❞ he says.
Pulling on his trench coat from the mudroom closet, Kenji stepped out into the windy air.
The remnants of fallen leaves crinkled even more under the pressure of his dirt-covered Vans. Avery rose his messy, cockscrew curls from the sticks he was tossing into the bed of his pickup, steel-grey and with traces of peeling paint in the dented metal.
The breath of the wind coasted Kenji's exposed nose and cheeks, bruising them red. He knelt down in the patches of green and browning grass to shovel up handfuls of sticks in his arms. He gathered up all the heavier sticks, too, before dumping them all in the dented, metal bed.
Avery shook his head with a laugh. ❝Day before fucking Christmas Eve and you're trying to show me up at picking up sticks, honeybee.❞
