“Then it sounds like you’re going to be my date.”
“Oh goody!” Cass’s wings flapped. “So! What do we do now?”
“We go home and you watch me drink while we celebrate.”
Chapter nine
LA felt lighter thanhe had in a long time.
He had something to look forward to—a night out with friends to celebrate his artwork. He could have never imagined doing that with Gavin, much less while working the insane hours that the funeral home had demanded. There was even a chance that he might make some money, though he told himself that wasn’t the only reason he was doing this.
Still.
To have someone—anyone—enjoy his art enough that they wanted to buy it?
That…
That was a first.
Back at home, he shooed Cass away long enough to change into a T-shirt and pajama pants. He wanted to be comfortable, and his back was complaining from the surge of activity this week. Once he was dressed again, he slowly headed downstairs.
Before he’d reached the last step, Cass was there to sweep him up into his arms. “Come, come! You must be exhausted.”
“Ugh. Hi. Yup.” LA grunted, his spine twinging a bit from being carried like a rag doll. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Cass to put him down though, enjoying the closeness as Cass hauled him toward the kitchen. “Ready for drugs, rum, and couch.”
“Oh!” Cass turned right around, now headed for the couch.
“Hey!” LA wiggled. “What are you doing?”
“I can fetch your drugs and rum. You need to rest.”
“I can make myself a damn drink, you know,” LA grumbled.
“Yes, you can. But you’ve already had a big, big day!” Cass chided as he gently laid LA across the couch. He bowed his head to kiss LA’s forehead. “Please. Let me.”
“I…” LA blushed. “Thank you.”
“Which drugs am I procuring?”
“Cyclobenzaprine. Little white pills. Just one.”
“Anything else?”
“No.” LA smiled softly. “Thanks, Cass.”
“You are so very welcome!” Cass hummed as he practically skipped back to the kitchen, a flurry of bubbles trailing behind him.
LA snorted out a little laugh and sighed, relaxing against the cushions.
Yes, Cass’s eternal sunshine mood was annoying, but it was also sweet.
And a bit endearing.
And maybe just a tad infectious.
Like a fungus.
LA glanced around the room, thinking the walls looked strange without all his paintings. He missed the haunted faces, the memories they held, and a bolt of panic struck his very core.
