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Warily, I asked, “What?”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Some snacks.”
Better than a head.
“For Kat?”
“Both of you.”
Eoghan cast a glance between us. “She’s looking after you, Conor. Say ‘thank you.’”
“Thank you,” I parroted. “I can buy food—”
“Take the snacks and go, Kid,” Eoghan retorted, shoving me in the shoulder.
“She doesn’t need to feed me,” I grumbled at him.
“It’s a woman thing. Inessa does it to me all the time.” To Katina, he explained, “It’s like a kiss but for when you leave.”
Kat frowned. “I’d prefer a kiss to raw veggies. Star’s snacks are boring. She sticks hummus in a box with some carrot sticks and thinks that’s supposed to fill a person.” Kat tugged on Star’s hand. “Can’t we grab hot dogs afterward?”
“You’ll have to ask Conor. Politely.”
Kat batted her eyes at me.
“We can grab hotdogs.” I cleared my throat. “After we eat the carrot sticks and hummus.”
It was worth Kat’s boo for the shy smile Star shot at me.
Before we headed out of the kitchen, I collected the boxes from the refrigerator—confirmed that there were a bunch of crudités and what appeared to be ranch dressing and hummus in two small containers—then gave Star another kiss farewell because I couldn’t resist as Kat hugged her around the middle.
As we walked down the hall, with me trying to avoid Stimpy’s urge to trip me up as he wove a path between my feet, I tugged on the tail of Kat’s braid. “We’ll leave soon, kiddo. You ready to go?”
“Yep. Just need my bag.”
She ducked into her room and collected her gym bag.
As I watched her navigate the chaos of the space, my gaze drifted over her stuff.
She’d settled in but it still seemed temporary, which put me on edge.
It wasn’t hers.
Sure, she’d staked a claim with the addition of a bunch of pink shit, and dotted here and there were the 3D-printed frames I was making her, ones with photos Star had sent me upon request, and Ren and Stimpy’s bed was here too, but even Da had let us have Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle-green walls or, in Eoghan’s case, Superman-catsuit blue.
Together, we headed to the door once I snagged the bright pink tote she used for class and fisted it in my hand—kid’s stuff was tiny, so tiny that it made me question if I’d ever been that freakin’ small.
At the door, we met with Savannah and Chadwick; the former looked like there was an upcoming grudge match, but the latter didn’t appear to want to be here.
After we let them in, gave our farewells, and walked toward the elevator, I asked, “Do you want to change your bedroom, Kat?”
She bounced on her toes, already buzzing for the upcoming class. A gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her from doing a handstand against the elevator doors.
“Change what, Conor?” she chirped.
“Everything. The colors, the furniture. It’s still too much like a guest room with your things in it.”
The bouncing stopped. “Can it be pink?”
