Prickly Business by Piper Vaughn & Kenzie Cade Page B

was worrying over this Sven character, whom Avery may or may not be in a relationship with. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. “I’m sure there are classes you can take around town that won’t break the bank.”
    Avery jerked back like he’d been slapped. “A class?”
    He sounded scandalized, and it was all Dylan could do to keep from laughing at the outrage coloring his face. He almost expected Avery to clutch at nonexistent pearls next.
    “A. Class ?” he screeched. “You expect me to find my drishti in a room full of people? Is that even possible? And then what? Bikram?” Avery’s eyes rounded further, and his head shook from side to side. “I can’t. Not hot yoga. I’ll melt. Literally. I’ll never survive without Sven.”
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake. What is this guy to you?”
    “I already told you.”
    “Seems to me there’s more to it. You fucking him?” Dylan didn’t bother keeping the snarl from seeping into his tone.
    “What?” Avery gasped. “No! Besides, I’m not his type. His boyfriend is a bear. Literally. As in grizzly. He’s dating that bear shifter, Warren Harting.”
    “The guy who owns the shipping company?”
    “One and the same,” Avery supplied.
    Dylan’s eyes narrowed at Avery. “But what aren’t you telling me?”
    Avery muttered something too soft for Dylan to hear, which was saying something, considering his wolf’s exceptional hearing.
    “What was that?” Dylan pushed.
    Avery turned his glare on Dylan. “He introduced me to Victor.”
    “You see”—Dylan pointed a finger at Avery—“that right there is why you need to worry about yourself and not all this other shit.” He reached out and covered Avery’s mouth when it looked like he’d dig himself in for an argument. “Shut up and listen. You see where all of this”—Dylan flashed the envelope—“has gotten you. Get over yourself and move on. It’s time to take care of your own shit. The alpha is always looking for people willing and able to help the pack, but you have to go to him and ask for help. He’s not going to come to you.”
    When Dylan backed away, Avery looked… unsure, for the first time.
    “Come on,” he sighed and nudged Avery back toward his bike. “Let’s go see a man about some payback.”
    “I can pay part of it,” Avery grumbled as Dylan turned to hook the helmet over his head.
    “I said no. Why are we still having this discussion? You’re going to need the money you have saved. Especially now.”
    “But—”
    “No.” Dylan cut him off and got on the Harley. Then he kick-started it to life, the roar of the engine drowning out any further discussion.
     
     
    “W ELL , WELL , well, if it isn’t my favorite little erinaceid .” Victor’s squirrely voice already worked Dylan’s nerves, and they’d just walked in.
    Dylan rolled his eyes at Victor’s butchered pronunciation of the scientific family name for the hedgehog. Obviously, someone knew how to use Wikipedia.
    Dim lighting did nothing to soften Victor’s sharp features. If anything, they were further pronounced, shadowed purposefully by his choice in seating, like some wannabe gangster. Dylan rolled his eyes.
    Victor sat in the corner booth. His porcelain skin all but glowed in the dark. Long, greasy hair gathered at his nape, à la Travolta in Pulp Fiction . The black-and-white pinstriped suit he wore covered a powder pink shirt decorated with a skinny electric purple tie. It hurt Dylan’s retinas to look at him too long.
    “Hey, Victor. I—” Avery glanced at Dylan then back at Victor. “Uh, we wanted to bring you your money and say….”
    When Avery hesitated, Dylan tossed the envelope in front of Victor, where he sat surrounded by four other guys Dylan sort of recognized but didn’t know by name. Who did Victor think he was—the Godfather?
    Victor glanced down at the cash and back up at Dylan, like he had only just noticed him standing with Avery. A sneer split his face. “Good thing the