Page 10 of Owl’s Cherished Mate

At seven twenty-five, she stopped typing. Her eyes drifted to the windows, and I could see the moment she registered how dark it was outside. Then her gaze found the clock.

She shot to her feet.

“Oh my God.” She was already shoving her laptop into her bag, nearly knocking her empty mug off the table. “I’m so sorry. I completely lost track of time. You should have said something. You should have kicked me out!”

“It’s fine,” I said, flashing her a smile.

“It’s not fine. You’re supposed to be closed. I’m keeping you here.” She zipped her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Bonnie.”

She stopped. It was the first time I’d used her name, and something in her expression shifted when she heard it.

“It’s no trouble,” I said. “Really.”

I held her gaze, keeping my expression even, trying to convey that I meant it without making it a bigger deal than it was.

“Okay,” she said finally. “But I’ll watch the time better from now on.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She didn’t need to know I’d have kept this place open until midnight if she’d needed me to.

I unlocked the front door and held it open for her. She paused in the doorway, the cool evening air slipping past her into the warm library.

“Goodnight, Gray,” she said.

My name. She’d read it off my nametag—had to have—but hearing her say it did something I wasn’t prepared for. My owl, on the other hand, went wild. He loved the sound of it coming from her lips.

“Goodnight,” I said.

She stepped out into the dark, and I watched her walk to her car before I closed the door. Then I picked up her mug from the table and brought it to the small kitchen in the back. I washed it, dried it, and set it on the shelf where I’d remember to use it again tomorrow.

5

BONNIE

Iwas wiping down tables at the Grill when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I almost let it go to voicemail—my hands were full, and Mila needed me to finish the lunch cleanup so the dinner prep could start—but something made me check.

Driftwood Cove High.

My stomach bottomed out. I set the rag down and answered.

“Miss Williams? This is Janet from the front office. We’re calling because Lawson has been absent for the third day in a row, and we haven’t received a call or a note from⁠—”

“Third day?” The words came out louder than I meant them to. A couple at a nearby table glanced over. I turned away and lowered my voice. “He left for school this morning. He’s been leaving every morning.”

A pause on the other end. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t been in class since last Friday. His teachers have been marking him absent.”

Three days. He’d left the house every morning this week with his backpack, and for three days he’d gone somewhere else entirely. He’d looked me in the eye over his cereal bowl and lied to my face.

I hadn’t checked the app during the day this week. It hadn’t crossed my mind that he’d skip school again. I wasn’t sure why. I’d just been so damn busy and honestly, exhausted.

“I’ll handle it,” I said, my voice flat. “Thank you for calling.”

I hung up and stood there for a second, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Three days.