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The mild-mannered gargoyle chuckled easily. “Pretty nasty, but nothing I can’t handle. Frances did the worst of it,” he added, referring to one of the janitors here.

“Still,” I muttered, nudging another trash bag with my foot and blanching when a beaker filled to the brim with mould rolled out.

Fuck, I really had to clean my dressing room. I could not be as bad as Frank and Beans. I could not let myself turn into them. I’d sooner chop off my own nuts. Or shoot them with a paintball myself.

“This all getting thrown out?” I asked Tommy, glancing up and nodding at Heidi when she sauntered past, her gym bag thrown over her shoulder.

“Well, we think some of this stuff might belong to the rest of you.” Tommy chuckled and gestured at a pile against the wall. “Seems they were sneaking into your dressing rooms when no one was around.”

I stiffened, stalking closer to peer down at the pile. “Those fuckers.” When I spotted an old hoodie I thought I’d lost years ago, I said it again. “Those fuckers.”

“Might wanna wash that before wearing it.” Tommy nodded at it as I picked it up.

“Yeah.” My lip curled as I held the fabric between two fingers, far away from me. It was stained. The stains were not identifiable. I was pretty sure I’d be happier if I never identified them.

“We’ll clear out the trash and leave the other stuff here for you all to look through tomorrow,” Tommy said, turning back to the door and lifting his paintbrush. “Think everyone’s gone home now.”

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. That meant Crossbody was gone. Thank fuck.

“Thanks, man.” I carried my filthy hoodie into my dressing room and stuffed it in an empty carrier bag to take home with me.

Although maybe I’d just burn it. Wasn’t sure I even wanted to wear it anymore.

As I started spraying and wiping down surfaces, I listened to Tommy whistling cheerfully in the hallway, before he eventually packed up his tools and picked up the trash bags. After his footsteps had faded, there was silence.

I didn’t really like silence all that much.

Unfortunately, I also really hated cleaning. I’d done enough of it at my last job as a janitor at the head office of Gateur Garbage Disposal and Waste Management, a firm run by reptile shifters.

It had definitely also been a front for the mob. I’d heard them talking about their ‘Grand-mère Lézard’ many times, and the manager, Freddie, had told me that if I ever needed a favour, I should go to him.

The “favour” being a whack job was heavily implied.

By the time I’d cleaned every surface, tidied up my vanity and stuffed all my dirty workout clothes in a bag to take home and wash, I was bored shitless. After sweeping the floor, I decided to take a quick shower because I was feeling grimy and the water pressure here was way better than my place.

Ten minutes later, I emerged from my private bathroom—I didn’t even have an en suite at home—with a towel wrapped around my hips, feeling much calmer.

I’d go home, eat some dinner and drink a beer to chill out. Maybe watch some porn. I’d overheard Susan telling Gabe the other day that her adult film star boyfriend Asmo, who went by Assmo Dickus, had a new one out. It was him and another incubus, which meant it was going to be wild. Incubi could fuck endlessly. Like most supernaturals, they didn’t really have a refractory period, and their seminal vesicles were much larger and worked differently from all other creatures, meaning they could produce an endless—and bountiful—supply of semen.

Gabe had enthusiastically and breathlessly told me all about it between moans while I was milking him that one time, three fingers shoved deep in his ass and my fist working his cock. He’d reached a point where he’d just been coming non-stop, sobbing in pleasure and clawing at Biff, who’d been cradling his head and stroking his horns.

We’d made a huge mess, and it had actually been very informative. I’d picked up some great tips from both of them on how to drive an incubus wild, and I’d definitely utilised them with other people I’d fucked since.

I loved my colleagues. They were the best.

Except for one.

Scowling to myself, I picked up the other dirty beakers and a couple plates and bowls that I’d found down the side of the couch. I was pretty sure my dressing room had never been this clean.

The low thrum of the treadmill in the main room didn’t register at first as I left the room and walked down the hallway. When it finally filtered into my brain, I stopped dead and tensed up as I listened to the sound of footsteps pounding on the belt at a steady pace.

Someone was still here. And they were on the treadmill. Which most likely meant…

I gritted my teeth and turned to walk back to my dressing room, then stopped and turned again.

No. Fuck that. I wasn’t going to let him do that. I wasn’t going to let his presence make me avoid certain areas at my own fucking place of work.

I would just ignore him. Corey had said we weren’t allowed to talk to each other anyway, and I just knew if I said even one single thing to Crossbody, he’d go running to the orc and tattle on me. He was such a kiss ass.