“Drinking is not related to being God of the Dead.”
“It also isn’t a hobby. Unless you’re an alcoholic.”
He was probably an alcoholic.
“Then what are your hobbies?”
“Baking,” she answered automatically, and he could tell by her expression that she truly loved it.
“Baking? I feel like I should have known about this sooner.”
“Well, you never asked.”
He found himself wishing to experience this hobby with her. He wanted to know why it brought her such joy. What about it calmed her and smoothed the worry from her face? He frowned as they continued their walk, pausing so she would turn to look at him.
“Teach me.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Teach me,” he said. “To bake something.”
She laughed, and Hades’ pout became more pronounced; he was serious. She seemed to realize this, and her expression softened.
“I’m sorry. I’m just imagining you in my kitchen.”
“And that’s difficult?”
“Well…yeah. You’re the God of the Underworld.”
“And you’re the Goddess of Spring,” he pointed out. “You stand in your kitchen and make cookies. Why can’t I?”
She stared at him, and he wondered for a moment if he’d broken her. He reached to touch the edge of her lips, which had fallen into a frown.
“Are you well?”
His question brought a smile to her face, and yet something still seemed wrong. He noted her eyes glistening, as if she were close to tears.
“Very well,” she agreed, and surprised him by pressing a kiss to his mouth and pulling away too soon.
“I’ll teach you.”
“Well, then,” he said, hands on her waist. “Let’s get started.”
“Wait. You want to learn now?”
“Now is as good a time as any,” he said. “I thought maybe…we could spend time at your apartment.” Again, she seemed stunned, and he shrugged his shoulder, explaining, “You’re always in the Underworld.”
“You…want to spend time in the Upperworld? In my apartment?”
He would have to suggest this more often. It was taking entirely too long for her to get the point.
“I…have to prepare Lexa for your arrival,” she said.
“Fair enough. I’ll have Antoni drop you off.” He looked down at his suit. “I need to change.”
CHAPTER XXVII – TEACHING AN OLD GOD NEW TRICKS
Hades returned Persephone to the Lexus and teleported to the Underworld, appearing in his chambers. He took a moment to down a glass of whiskey. He hated himself for what he was about to do.
“Hermes!”
He summoned the god with a single command, and he appeared, wearing a mesh crop top and tiny leather shorts.
What the fuck had he interrupted?
“Yes, King of Death and Dark…” Hermes’ voice faded away as his eyes swept the room. When he met Hades’ gaze again, he seemed dazed. “Am I dreaming?”
“I need your…help,” Hades said.
“I am dreaming.” Hermes slapped his face.
“Hermes,” Hades gritted out.
“No, no,” he said, putting up his hands as if to silence him. He took a breath. “Don’t ruin this for me. I might be dreaming, but I’m about to live out one of my top five fantasies—”
Hades slapped the god, who looked shocked.
“This isn’t a dream, Hermes.”
They stared at one another, and in the silence, Hades raised a brow. “Top five, huh?”
Hermes lifted his chin and cleared his throat. “What did you need?
“First, I think we can agree that neither one of us will disclose what goes on here tonight?”
The god’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “Oh my gods, I really am dreaming.”
“Hermes!” Hades snapped. “I need…fashion advice!”
“Oh.” He blinked and then broke into a grin. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Hades glared at the god. He should have downed a bottle before summoning the god. After a moment, he explained. “Persephone is teaching me to bake. What do I wear?”
“She’s teaching you to bake?” Surprised colored Hermes’ voice. “And you’re participating? Willingly?”
Hades glared.
“You must really love her.”
“Hermes,” Hades warned. If he had to say the god’s name one more time, he’d send him to Tartarus for the night.
He seemed to get the hint and straightened. “Right. Casual, baking date.”
He dashed to Hades’ closet.
“Why do you only wear suits?” Hermes complained. “What do you sleep in?”
“Nothing,” Hades answered. “What’s the point?”
Clothing was hot, and it meant more layers to get to what he wanted, even when Persephone was not sleeping beside him.
Hermes sighed. “You are impossible. Hold on.”
He vanished for a moment and returned with a black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.
“What are those?” Hades asked, voice dripping with judgement.
“Clothes,” Hermes said. “Casual clothes. Not that I expect you to know the definition of casual, Mr. Suit and Tie.”