Prickly Business by Piper Vaughn & Kenzie Cade Page A

his jaw tensed. His nostrils flared, and the red tinge to his face deepened.
    Dylan stared at him then quirked an eyebrow until he calmed down. Damn, the hedgehog had a temper.
    With his eyes still narrowed and glaring at Dylan, Avery’s color slowly faded to his normal ivory.
    “Now,” Dylan began, “like I said, you’re going to take this and say thank you.” He held up a hand when Avery opened his mouth—no doubt to launch into an epic battle of who can throw the biggest tantrum.
    Dylan had news for Avery. He didn’t lose. Ever.
    “But before I hand it over”—he waved the white bill-sized envelope in Avery’s face—“you’re going to tell me everything.”
    From where he watched, seemingly entranced by the envelope, Avery’s gaze snapped to Dylan’s. “Huh? What?”
    “The truth, Avery.” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest, the envelope tucked in the fold of his elbow. “You’re keeping something from me. Something happened between last night and when you showed up at the shop that you’re not telling me. I want to know what it is.”
    Dylan’s hunches were rarely wrong. Avery had been honest with him so far. He was certain of that. Why would he lie about Victor and the races? But still there was something that had hurt Avery deeply, and Dylan didn’t think it was a physical ache, which made it harder to piece together.
    “Why do you care?”
    “I care.”
    “You mean your wolf cares.”
    “Me? My wolf? We’re the same. My wolf cares. I care.”
    “That’s not enough.” Avery’s voice was soft. Pained.
    “I don’t know what you want from me, Avery. I’m trying, but I need you to give me something in return. What’s going on with you? I want to help if I can.”
    Dylan didn’t know how long Avery stared at him—long enough for him to notice gold flecks melted within the green-and-brown of Avery’s eyes. Avery finally spoke up. “My daddy cut me off.”
    “What?” Dylan squinted.
    Something Dylan thought was embarrassment flashed across Avery’s face before Avery glanced away.
    “Daddy,” Avery repeated, his gaze fixed on the concrete between them. “I told him about the races. And the wolves. And the money. He cut me off.” Avery took a deep breath and drew himself up straight, the rich, haughty air that always surrounded him back in full force. Just then, Avery was every bit the Southern diva Dylan had cast judgment on for the past couple of years.
    Except when he spoke again, Avery didn’t whine, as expected. “I don’t actually come into my trust fund until I turn twenty-five. A little under two years. Mama and Daddy were sending me an allowance every month, but Daddy….” Avery’s thinly veiled confidence fell at once, leaving only sadness-tinged fear. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because Daddy is pissed, and he’s cut me off. I still have the loft—for three more months—but I now have to pay my own bills and buy groceries.”
    Avery’s eyes shot wide—shocked—and his mouth gaped. His breathing became fast and ragged, uneven. “What about dry cleaning? And housekeeping? What about Sven?” Avery’s watery eyes rounded, pleading with Dylan to understand. “I forgot about him. He had some kind of emergency, but then he never called me back. Oh God, what am I going to do without Sven?”
    “Calm down.” Dylan reached out and gripped Avery’s shoulders, tense beneath his hands. Then the rest of what he’d said filtered into Dylan’s head. “What the fuck’s a Sven?” He didn’t appreciate the sound of the unknown man’s name on his mate’s lips, especially when there was so much emotion behind it.
    Avery blinked as if Dylan had spoken another language. “He’s my personal yoga instructor.”
    “Your yogi?” Frustration fled, making room for his smirk.
    Avery glared. “Don’t call him that,” he huffed. “This is serious. What will I do without him?”
    Dylan focused on Avery’s breakdown, trying not to think about the fact that Avery