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“I know, Cal,” he says, holding my gaze for a moment longer before heading to the door and walking out.

11

Lydia

A rough tickle brushes against my nose, accompanied by a rumbling purr that vibrates through the quiet. My eyes crack open to a blur of shadow and whiskers. I blink, and Nyx’s bright orange stare comes into view. She’s sitting on my chest, nearly nose to nose with me. Smiling, I purse my lips and plant a kiss on her head.

“Hey there, girl. Good morning to you, too,” I say, bringing my hand up to stroke her fur.

She chirps once and hops off of me, pouncing to the floor as she heads for the door. She stops near the entrance, glancing back to make sure I’m up and moving after her. When she spots me still in the same spot on the bed, she chirps a second time.

“I’m coming,” I say, sighing and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I sit up and toss the duvet to the side, swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress and pushing my feet into my pale blue slippers on the floor near my end table. Yawning, I stretch my arms up high over my head. Nyx rubs against the door frame, softly meowing to let me know she’s still waiting.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, standing to follow her to the kitchen. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

I kneel, scratching behind her ear. She nudges my hand with her head once and then takes off toward her food bowl. I grab a fresh can of wet cat food from the pantry and head her way with it, opening it up while I walk.

“Here you go, sweetie,” I say, turning over the can and letting it fall into her bowl. She makes quick work of eating it, purring loudly while her long tail sways behind her. Smiling, I head for my espresso machine.

“Momma’s turn,” I say, loading the machine with fresh espresso beans and grabbing a mug from the shelf overhead.

The espresso machine hums behind me as I head over to my altar table. Striking a match, I light my pillar candle and a jasmine-scented incense stick. Smoke curls upward, sweet and slow as I guide it toward me and breathe it in.

A beep lets me know that my coffee has finished brewing as I walk over to grab my cat-shaped mug from the machine. Adding a little caramel and oat milk, I watch as the colors swirl into the perfect shade of golden brown. The warmth of the mug seeps beneath my bones as I head over to my deep green sectional, grabbing a throw blanket as I sit near the middle.

The first drop of coffee consumes my soul in only the way that first sip can. I moan, taking another slow sip. The coffee reminds me that I need to call Sloane and fill her in on all things Mr. Big and Broody. I reach over and grab my phone from the end table, scrolling until I spot her contact. Hitting call and then speaker, I set the phone down on the sofa cushion beside me as it rings.

“Hello?” Sloane answers, her voice thick with sleep. Damnit, I forgot to check the time before calling. Sloane is not a morning person like I am.

“Good morning, darling,” I say, teasing her with one of Riven’s pet names. She groans, and I hear muffled whispering before she speaks again.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, sounding more awake but worried.

“Yeah, sorry about the wake-up call. I forgot to check the time,” I say, apologetic. “I have news on all things big and broody, though. So, maybe you can forgive me?”

“It’s fine. We needed to get up anyway. I’m starting at the trauma center today. The offer still stands if you want to join me.”

Sloane decided to start volunteering at a trauma recovery center in the city to give back and help Riven. She told me that Reverb has been considering opening a similar recovery facility using healing frequencies, and Riven thinks that the trauma recovery center is a good way for them to get an inside look and better prepare for that. I’ve been truly considering her offer. There’s something special about helping others, something that warms my soul through and through. Plus, I could use a little S and L bonding time.

“Oh, yay! That’s exciting,” I say. “I’ll think about it.”

“It really is. It’s a breath of fresh air after the fallout with Sonus,” she says. “Anyways, enough about me. Let’s hear the latest Mr. Grumpy Pants gossip. I heard you stayed the night at his house after Moonvale?” I can practically feel the suggestion in her tone.

“Apparently so. Can you believe that I was so wasted that I vomited in his freaking car? I do not remember drinking that much. And the water, Lo. I forgot to drink water,” I say, mortified at the memory.

“Girl, we both forgot the water. I blame the champagne. It’s always the damn champagne,” she says, laughing.

“Those evil, mouthwatering bubbles,” I joke. We laugh for several seconds, the warmth of it making me miss my best friend even more.

“Spill it, Lyd. What happened that night?” she asks, her laughter dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Well,” I start, matching her tone, “he let me sleep in his bed. I woke up in his shirt and boxers. And he was sitting on his floor just staring at me, shirtless!”

“What?” she asks, gasping.

“I know,” I say. “Imagine waking up in a daze, and the first thing you see is a shirtless Callum Thorne.”