“Shit,” Oliver said, staring down at the front of the Yellow Peril. Grass and mud coated the bonnet, and huge clods of earth protruded from the front grill. Not to mention the cannon ball sized dent under the left headlight.
“Is that a pheasant?” Oliver said, eyes flitting over the feathers sticking out the front bumper.
“I’d say it’s the remains of one.”
“Gross.”
“Apologies, Reed. I’ll pay for the damage.”
Oliver bent down to look at the dent. “Nah. I think she needs burning, to be honest. Still road legal, though.”
Lucas grinned and ruffled Oliver’s hair. “Look,” he said, pointing to something sandwiched under the roof bar.
“No way,” Oliver replied, stumbling over to it. Because there, wedged tightly under the metal bar, was the box of tiramisu. Truly, miracles never ceased. “Come on, before the neighbours start getting nosey.”
Lucas chuckled as he pried the box free and slipped it under his other arm. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. I doubt anyone will be up.”
Oliver tutted. “You underestimate the tenacity of busybodies. They’d make better detectives than us.”
Thankfully, there was not even a flicker of movement as they stumbled into Oliver’s apartment. The heatwave had subsided for the time being, his body exhausted from the cataclysmic hormonal rush. “You put the kettle on. I’ll warm up the shower,” he said, slipping from beneath the alpha’s arm.
“I can sort out the shower, Reed. You rest.”
Oliver shook his head.“I-I’d rather keep myself busy.” Lucas nodded, but did not move from the hallway. He looked oddly lost, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Everything… okay?” Oliver asked, cocking his head.
“I… it’s nothing,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
Oliver’s gut twisted, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “You…oh…you want to leave.”
Lucas’ eyes softened as he let out a breath. “No,” he said, pulling Oliver into his arms and kissing his forehead. “I’ll make a cup of tea.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
With that, Oliver shuffled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Glancing up at the mirror, he realised just how fucking terrible he looked. His skin was pale and clammy, the white-blonde colour of his hair now a sickly shade of pond water green.Christ, that better wash out.
“Reed,” Lucas called. “Come here, please.”
Pushing a hand through his hair, Oliver slowly padded to the kitchen. He found the alpha staring into his open fridge, tiramisu still in hand. “Yes?” Oliver said, standing next to him.
“You have half a pint of milk and a block of cheese.”
He nodded. “That is an accurate summary, detective.”
“Don’t you ever cook for yourself?”
Shrugging, Oliver plucked the dessert from Lucas’ hand and slid it onto the bottom shelf. “I’ve been working a lot. And besides, now I have cheese, milk and some world class tiramisu.”
Lucas sighed, dropping to his haunches and opening the freezer. “Well, at least this is stocked up. Is that five trays of frozen lasagne?”
Oliver chuckled, “Cottage pie. It’s the result of Matteus’ pregnancy induced cooking frenzy.”
Lucas arched an eyebrow. “Pregnancy induced?”
Oliver clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh shit, forget I said that. It’s early days, and well… you know.”
A wide smile spread across Lucas’ face as he rose to his feet. “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations Uncle Reed.”
