"I wasn't scared."
Still nothin'.
"Anyone woulda reacted like that."
The tiny black cat lifted a paw and started lickin' itself.Gross.
"You payin' rent?"
Nothin'.
"Didn't think so." I flicked my un-beered hand toward the doorway. "Shoo. Git."
The furball neither shooed nor got.
In fact, the little shit started circlin' my legs, brushin' up against me, spine archin' in a way that looked downright uncomfortable.
"Can I help you with somethin'?"
The cat let out a single, offended meow.
"Oh, now you talk."
It wound around me again like it owned the damn place.
I nudged it toward the door. It didn't budge.
"Suit yourself."
I propped the back door open a few inches—plenty of room for a freeloadin' cat to make its own decisions—and headed out.
When I turnedinto the alley that led up to my apartment behind The BP, I ran smack-dab into Sassy.
She bounced off my chest with a softoof.
"Shit, sorry," I said. Instinct had my hands on her shoulders before her ass could meet the ground.
She slipped out of my grip fast. Too fast. Like touchin' me might leave a mark.
"You just get off work?" I asked, noddin' toward the door across the way.
For years Sassy had been workin' at the boutique in town, puttin' herself through school. Late nights. Early mornings. Textbooks spread across our coffee table. It'd been a long, slow road. But she was determined. Always had been.
"I—yeah." She shifted her keys between her fingers. Didn't look at me. "Look, I can't stand around and chit chat."
I huffed a laugh. "Right. Long drive back home to Rhett's."
The second the words left my mouth, I knew I'd stepped in it.
Her head snapped up. "Are you for real right now, Brody Lancaster?"
Full government name.Fantastic.
"Fuck, no." I dragged a hand down my face. "I'm sorry. I just… I hurt my thumb. I'm grumpy."
She stared at me. "You hurt your thumb… That the excuse you're stickin' to?"
"Well, yeah," I held it up for her to see the blood blister under my nail. She didn't seem impressed.
