Chapter 3: Two’s Company, Trouble’s a Crowd

Before I could even process what had just happened, both incubi followed me inside.

The white-eared incubus settled on my couch, folding his hands in his lap, smiling up at me with eyes that twinkled like he knew every secret in the room. He looked around with this homey contentment, like he’d just come back from a long trip.

The other one—the black-eared, tan-skinned incubus—was all restless movement: unruly curls, sharp features, big eyes as dark as midnight, wild and hawkish. He prowled the apartment, sniffing at the old box of Honey Nut Cheerios I’d forgotten to toss. The cold from the hallway clung to them, mixing with the faint smell of coffee grounds and last night’s pizza in my tiny entryway.

I snapped back to reality and grabbed my phone.

Me: "Hey, you there?"

Customer service: "Product shows as delivered. Any questions, sugar?"

I told them I’d received two incubi.

Customer service: "Congrats, sugar! Looks like you hit the jackpot—secret bonus edition, just for you!"

Me: ...

Customer service: "Sweetie, this model is special—buy one, get one free~"

Was this for real? I half-expected hidden cameras, maybe Ashton Kutcher popping out from behind the couch yelling, "You’ve been Punk’d!"

Two for the price of one, and at a huge discount?

I eyed the white-eared incubus scrolling through his phone, then glanced at the tan one still sniffing around. "Can I return one?" Honestly, handling just the wild one would max out my bandwidth—my apartment was barely big enough for me.

"I can’t afford two."

Customer service: "Sugar, incubi don’t need to be fed like dogs. Ours are specially trained and can live independently. As long as they’re fed, they’ll help solve your problems and share life’s burdens~"

"The system shows you’ve signed for two incubi, and the free gift has been delivered. Returns aren’t supported~"

No matter what I said, they wouldn’t budge. I gave up.

Fine, if I could keep two succulents alive, how hard could this be?

Two for the price of one—still sounded like a win. I kept telling myself that as I eyed the duo.

Not knowing what else to call them, I said, "Hey, you two."

The white-eared one put down his phone and answered right away, "Jamie, my name’s Ethan."

The tan one swaggered over, scowl still firmly in place. "What?"

Ethan introduced him, "Jamie, that’s Mason."

Ethan and Mason—one white, one black; total opposites, like a sitcom setup, but with tails and ears.

I nodded. "I’m Jamie. From now on, this is your home."

The shop had mentioned a free gift. I asked, "So, what’s the gift? Any idea?"

Mason just snorted and flicked his tail, dismissive. His attitude was pure alley cat.

I looked at Ethan. Of course, he obliged—he pulled a delicate white collar and leash from his pocket, just like I’d asked the shop for.

Under my gaze, Ethan slipped the collar around his own neck with this almost ritualistic grace, like he was putting on a tie before a big job interview. He handed me the leash. "Jamie."

His white pointed ears trembled, and his heart-shaped tail swayed, extra enticing. There was a spark in his amber eyes, playful and daring.

Incubus, indeed—absolutely enchanting. No wonder people ended up with a full house after one visit to the shelter.

I swallowed and gave the leash a gentle tug. "Want to go out and play?"

"Whatever you want, I’ll do."

Mason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, not happening. I’m nobody’s butler. Dogs have it easier than this."

Five minutes later, I was holding a leash in each hand. Ethan’s clipped on white; Mason, sporting a pink collar, glared at me like he was plotting my downfall—but somehow the collar made him look... weirdly cute?

Pink against his tan skin was a whole vibe. Kind of punk, kind of pretty boy.

Mason looked furious, his cheeks red with embarrassment. He’d clearly put the collar on himself, but was acting like I’d wronged him. His cheeks flushed, but he held my gaze, daring me to laugh. I didn’t. He looked so fierce and so lost at the same time.

Yeah, this one was going to be a challenge. Maybe I’d slip a few treats into his breakfast to win him over.

No way was I risking becoming the next viral TikTok—#LeashYourLover would haunt me forever. Taking two shirtless guys out on leashes? Not in this lifetime.

After half an hour of walking them around the apartment, my FitBit buzzed—I’d hit my step goal without even leaving the house.

Ethan looked up, tail curling around my thigh. "Jamie, is that all for today?"

Wow, such a strong need? Was this what the reviews meant about them being energetic?

I patted his head. "We’ll play again tomorrow. Let’s eat first."

Eat well, then come warm my bed—just like the reviews said, right?

Ethan’s amber eyes darkened a little, but I didn’t catch the meaning and ran to the kitchen to cook. Probably just the lighting.

I pulled open the fridge and realized: I had no idea what incubi liked to eat. I hoped they weren’t vegan or allergic to gluten or something.

I went out to ask, only to see Ethan had already peeled off his shirt. Under that pale skin? Lean, sexy muscle. He looked like he’d just walked off a Calvin Klein ad—abs, dimples, the whole package. If this was a scam, it was the prettiest one I’d ever seen.

I’d thought Ethan looked gentle and maybe a little delicate, but he was surprisingly fit.

He was even trying to get Mason to join in, like they were about to compete for who could out-hot the other.

Mason’s neck stiffened, his curls bristling. "Yeah, not happening. I’m nobody’s butler. Dogs have it easier than this."

I blinked. "What are you two doing?" Did I miss something in the user manual?

At the sound of my voice, Mason instantly shut up, but his tail shot up like a warning flag. He yanked his shirt off with a dramatic sigh, grumbling, "Let’s just get this over with."

Mason was different from Ethan—solid, powerful, masculine energy you could feel across the room. I tried not to stare, but hey, I’m only human.

Get what over with?

I was lost. Was this some weird incubus ritual, or were they just flexing?

Ethan asked gently, "Jamie, aren’t you going to eat?"

Me: "Yeah... Do you guys want grilled cheese or mac and cheese? Or both?"

Mason froze, looking both embarrassed and annoyed. "I take my shirt off and you ask me that?" He sounded like he was questioning every life choice that led him here.

Ethan spotted the cheese and bread in my hands and got it. He smiled, easygoing. "Almost forgot—humans eat like this."

Otherwise, what? If you’re hungry and don’t eat, do you just breathe air? I stifled a laugh.

Ethan was thoughtful. He stepped over, took the groceries from me, and said softly, "Jamie, just wait outside. Leave the cooking to me. Mason and I aren’t picky."

In this autumn weather, he was wearing just an apron. I had to look away before I blushed.

"Aren’t you cold?" I asked.

Ethan’s hands were long-fingered and clean—even watching him wash veggies was mesmerizing. He chopped with the skill of a Food Network champ.

He said, "As long as you like to watch, I’m fine."

What a line. I couldn’t help but touch his swaying tail. It was even softer than it looked.

I didn’t just like to watch—I liked to touch, too.

No wonder I picked this incubus. Tall, gentle, apparently a great cook. Exactly my type.

Ethan was really capable. In less than half an hour, he had three dishes and a soup on the table, all smelling amazing. The kitchen smelled like home, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. For a second, I almost forgot I was eating with two supernatural strangers. It just felt... safe. Like maybe I wasn’t so alone in this city after all.

"Jamie, please eat."

I called them over. My tiny kitchen table looked like a Thanksgiving feast.

Ever since I started living alone for work, I’d barely eaten a real meal. It was always takeout or eating over the sink, scrolling on my phone.

Every day was either takeout or microwave mac and cheese; the veggies in my fridge usually ended up in the trash. I couldn’t remember the last time I sat down for a real dinner.

Maybe my mom was right—maybe I did need some help.

I’d thought incubi were just for bed-warming, but apparently, they could cook, too.

I remembered the online review: "Feed your incubus and he’ll do anything."

I kept putting food in Ethan’s bowl. "Eat more. Eat well, then warm my bed later." I couldn’t help but tease.

Ethan smiled. "Okay, Jamie."

Mason watched us, snorted, and stabbed at his food with a fork, but he ate anyway.