Kiss Me Again (Kiss Me 3)

“If I wasn’t staunchly against animal cruelty, I’d throw a saucepan at you.”

“You can still hit me over the head with it.”

“I was talking about you, not the hedgehog, you pig.”

“May I say that you are an absolute fucking delight, Ava. I can’t imagine why you’re still single.”

“Probably the same reason you are. The asshole gene is strong as fuck and not all that attractive.” I smiled sardonically and hit the button on the coffee machine to turn it on.

Ethan wiped his fingers on his leg, leaving bright orange streaks across the navy sweats he was wearing. Then he licked each one, getting rid of the residue before he put the hedgehog on the sofa despite my glare.

“Look,” he said, getting up. “Mr. Prickles is trained, okay? He even has a litter box.”

“He’s a hedgehog, not a cat.” I shot a dark look the way of the animal. “If he shits on my sofa, I’m going to go insane.”

Ethan held up his hands. “He won’t shit on your sofa. I promise never to leave him unattended when he’s out of his cage.”

“Damn right you won’t leave him unattended.” I slammed my mug down. “If he’s out and you need to piss, he joins you in the bathroom. If you need a drink, he comes to the kitchen with you. Preferably in a bowl so my counters aren’t contaminated.”

“Our counters.”

“Don’t fucking push me, Ethan. I’m already on edge.”

He gripped the edge of the counter, choking back a laugh. “You’d like him if you got to know him.”

“He’s a hedgehog. I really don’t think we’re going to have a lot in common.”

“He likes to eat.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing. I’m just pointing out what he likes.”

I pulled my now-full mug from the machine and turned around. “You know what I like? Personal space. Serial killer documentaries. Reading history articles on Wikipedia. Wine. Nachos. And sleep. Does your hedgehog like any of those things?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think he can read or work the remote for Netflix.”

I shot him my best withering look and peered over his shoulder at the sofa.

The spiky pig was gone.

“Your spiky pig has left the sofa.”

Ethan jerked around, seeing what I’d just told him. He darted over there and got down onto the floor, where he stretched his arm under the sofa and scooted a bleach-blonde animal out from the darkness. “Got him.”

“Mm.” I leaned back against the counter, lifting my mug to my mouth.

He stood, holding up the hedgehog triumphantly.

I simply glared at him. I really had nothing to say. I was aware I came across as a bit of a bitch, but I didn’t have pets for a reason. I didn’t have the time to look after one, especially not one as high-maintenance as a goddamn fucking hedgehog.

I knew how this would go. I’d be asked to feed it, then play with it, then clean it. There was no way that was happening. I didn’t know the first thing about looking after those prickly little fuckers. I didn’t even know what to feed it. I’d give it breadsticks and bananas if left to my own devices.

I sure as hell wasn’t cleaning it out.

I’d had a hamster as a teen. If hedgehogs stank like those little bastards, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going near its cage.

No matter what Ethan said, I was not going to change my mind.

He wasn’t going to like it, so he’d have to lump it. Like I had to lump living with what was, in effect, a spiky rodent.

My dark look obviously did the trick, because Ethan carried the hedgehog through to his bedroom and re-emerged a minute later without it.

“Okay, listen,” he said, flattening his hands on the island. The stretching of his arms made his biceps pop, not to mention the veins that appeared on his forearms thanks to the strain of holding his weight. “I was wrong to hide the hedgehog, all right? I should have told you before I moved in.”

“Yes, you should have.” I put the mug down on the island and stood opposite him, still glaring at him, but this time it was over the rim of my glasses.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I just apologized.”

“No, you didn’t. You said you were wrong. That’s not an apology, that’s an admission of wrongdoing.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus. Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” I supposed I had to. It wasn’t like I had a choice, really. We had to live together, and that meant compromising on a few things. “So do you agree? That the hedgehog won’t be free in the apartment unless you’re there, too?”

“That’s fair.” He shrugged a shoulder. “But I still think you’ll grow to like him.”

“Doubt it. I don’t like small animals.”

“But Halley can feed the raccoons, and that’s okay?”