Page 9 of What the Hex
“I thought we were going to talk.”
And they had. Sure, it had been a little awkward, but there had definitely been words involved. He really wanted the shifter to like him, though. Logically, he understood Storm would have to get to know him first, but that was also kind of the problem.
More than once, he’d been told he was something of an acquired taste, and most people became annoyed with him after the first ten minutes. He’d been in Storm’s company for nearly twenty, and he didn’t want to tempt fate.
“I figured you’d want to rest after your trip,” he hedged as he continued to inch toward the door.
“Do you have to go back to work?”
He shook his head.
There were always things to be done in the castle, and it wouldn’t be hard to find someone who needed help. But technically, his only job at the present was to assist Storm.
Taking his knit cap off, Storm dragged his fingers through his mussed hair. “Then stick around for a while. If it makes things easier, we can go over my schedule.”
“You have interviews in the morning, then a fan meeting tomorrow evening,” he recited dutifully before he realized the shifter had been teasing him. “Fine, I’ll stay.”
Storm sighed. “If you really don’t want to, I’m not going to make you.”
“It’s not like that.” Giving up on trying to be subtle, he laid all his cards on the proverbial table. “I’m just worried you won’t like me.”
Storm considered his words for a long time before speaking again. “What makes you think that?”
He appreciated that his mate didn’t automatically try to placate him with cliched reassurances. Since they barely knew each other, he wouldn’t have believed them anyway.
“People think I’m weird.” Granted, Arlo was the only one who had ever said it to his face, and he’d done so jokingly, but he recognized the way people looked at him.
“Weird how?”
King shrugged. Where did he even start?
He had a bad habit of rambling when he was nervous—or mad, or excited, or because it was Tuesday. He was annoyingly indecisive, overthinking everything, right down to which pair of identical white socks to wear. He could be childish and temperamental, and there were days when his mood seemed to shift with the wind.
Realizing Storm was still waiting for an answer, he shrugged again. “I think I just get on their nerves.”
“Well, you don’t get on my nerves.”
The unspoken “yet” in that statement was deafening, though neither of them acknowledged it. Still, he preferred that to flowery platitudes and meaningless promises.
Speaking of getting on people’s nerves, he did have another concern. One that affected not just him, but Storm’s entire career.
“What about your job?”
Storm bobbed his head in understanding as he crossed the room and flopped down on the sofa. “Come here.” He patted the cushion next to him for emphasis, waiting until King joined him before continuing. “Now, what exactly are you concerned about? Is it the lack of privacy, or something else?”
“Well, that’s part of it—”
“We don’t have to make some big announcement or anything. How much we tell the public is completely up to us, but I’d rather not lie.”
No, he didn’t want to lie, either. Secrets had a way of coming out, and it would only bite them in the ass in the end. It would probably take a while to get used to being mated to a star and the changes that came with it, but other celebrity couples made it work all the time.
The problem was that many of Storm’s admirers believed he was in a real relationship with Damien. They even went to great lengths and performed exhausting mental gymnastics to prove their theory correct. Somehow, he didn’t think they would appreciate him crashing that particular party.
“How do you think your fans will take the news?”
“Ah, you mean the shippers?” He laughed when King nodded. “Some actors play up the fan service, and to each their own, but Damien and I never have. People are going to think what they want, and I learned early on, you can’t please everyone.”
King nodded again, but he still had doubts.