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There’s a lowmeowand then a grumpy-looking tabby cat jumps onto the bed and curls up beside Christian.
“Naw kitty …” I reach out to pat its head, when it lets out a low warning sound, ears back, hair behind its head standing on end. My hand darts back to my side and Christian peeks out at me, bringing a heavy hand down on the cat’s head.
“Shut up, Kismet. He’s a friend.” He pats the cat roughly, and while the creature doesn’t exactly look like it’s enjoying the attention, it simply narrows its eyes and deals with it.
I want to be resentful that the cat apparently hates me but is happy to be pummeled under Christian’s palm, but I get it. If he was touchingmelike that, there’d be no complaints.
“So, when you said you had five roommates, what you really meant to tell me was that you had five roommates, one of whom you say I love you to–”
“Actually, I say that to all of them, just not as much as Gabe.”
“Right. Five roommateswho you love, a crazy old lady next door who’s your adoptive aunt slash sugar grandma, and a psychopathic, obsessive kitty.”
He props himself on his elbow, thinking. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“I absolutely adore it all.”
“Well, that’s good, because I was going to suggest that we hang out here today. Maybe order in, watch a movie.”
“As much as I love that idea, we should probably be seen in public together. Knowing my family, they’re waiting until I get home to begin the grand jury, so if we can generate some positive news like … an art gallery outing, or a charity event–”
His soft lips land on mine. The kiss is fleeting, over far too quickly.
I glower at him as he pulls back. “So that’s it, is it? Whenever we want to stop the other person talking, we’ll just kiss them.”
“Seems like a good plan to me.”
Kismet shakes himself out and jumps off the bed.
“Thank god,” I say, before wriggling closer to him. “I was beginning to get jealous that the cat was in my spot.”
Christian laughs, thumb swiping gently over my cheek. “Sorry to cut you off. It’s just … last night you said you didn’t want to be part of the problem anymore, and isn’t doing all that playing into what they want from you?”
He’s right. It’s startling I hadn’t realized that’s exactly where my thought process went. To damage control. Not the things that I actually want to do. Not the things that represent who I am and what I want out of life. No, my first thoughts were how to smooth things over with my family.
And what the hell does it matter?
They can’t touch me. They can make things difficult, of course, but that’s costly and time-consuming for both parties involved.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go with your suggestion. Food and movies. Maybe you can show me around the house too.”
“Oooh yeah. Wait until you see Xander’s paint room.”
“His what?”
“Well, we used to call it a studio, but he got so much paint everywhere that the owners have told him he can do what he likes with the place. There are murals on all the walls and even a few small ones on the floor and ceiling. It’s a lot and a mess, but actually looks kind of cool.”
“I’d love to see it.” I mean it.
Gabe walks back in without knocking, shaking his phone in one hand. “Yeah, well, you’re going to have to wait. The hunt’s on. We’ve gotta go.Now.”
Chapter 20
Christian
Hell yes. I’d been so worried about missing the hunt with how stuffed full my next few weeks are, but the taco gods are shining down on me today. I scramble out of bed, grabbing the first T-shirt I find to tug over my head before struggling into a pair of pants.
Émile watches me from the bed. “I thought we were staying in today?”
