He waves his arms around, gesturing at me in general.
Taking a bite of the bagel, I glare. “I think I’m supposed to be offended, dude.”
He chuckles, then closes the notebook. “Nah. We love you, man. I just wasn’t expecting the sister who got you on track to also end up with unplanned cats. I’ll go get ready.”
He leaves after burning his notes in the sink, the kettle whistling and letting me make some tea. A purpose helps the tiniest bit, but I’ve got to do more to survive this temporary ban on theft. And it had better be temporary. Maybe I should take up martial arts or something? Boxing?
No. I don’t want to spend that much time with Trips right now. I’m still pissed, but less upset than I was a week ago. He’s so angry with himself that it’s impossible to spend time with the asshole without getting madder than I was when I started. It’s like his guilt makes me want to kick him. It makes no sense, but it is what it is. When I’m away from him, though, I almost feel sorry for the asshole.
Almost.
Checking the clock, I wonder when Clara will be back. The house was quiet last night, all of us staying in our own rooms for the first time in what feels like months. Lonely. I was lonely.
The timer chirps, so I pull out the spent tea and hop up on the counter to enjoy it with the last few bites of bagel.
Shopping with Walker feels routine, which isn’t helping my buzzy skin, but I don’t know what else to do other than plow forward.
Luckily, it turns out that shopping for a cat is weirdly fun. We get a cheap-ass litter box and the litter my mom has, as well as the food she said he likes. But then, we end up buying way toomany toys—fluffy feathers on sticks and tiny catnip mice. And a few different varieties of cat treats, because I remember he can be picky about which ones he likes.
His royal highness is going to be spoiled during his week with us.
Walker gets into it and spends way too long deciding which catnip mice we should get, and eventually, unable to decide, tosses them both in the cart.
The woman at the checkout is ecstatic when she rings us up. “You guys are such a cute couple! Your cat is going to be so lucky to have you two.”
I wrap my arm around Walker as he gets tense, ready for a little trouble. “And don’t you know, this sweet thing here has a list of thirty-two possible names? So excited!” I smack my lips against the side of his head, and with a sigh, he melts, playing the role with me.
“As if you can talk. How many different treats can a single cat eat? You’re going to give the poor kitty a tummy ache.”
I chuckle and scoop up the bags of treats and toys into the litter box, leaving the tub of litter for Walker to haul out. “Thanks, love,” I call to the clerk, leading us out of the shop.
Walker curses me the whole way to the car. “We might get naked together, Jansen, but I’m not into you.”
Laughing, I toss the stuff into the back of his SUV. “Dude, I know that. But that was fun. And don’t you like to play roles? If I can’t steal shit, this has got to be enough, right?”
He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Okay, fine. Yeah. That was fun. But what did you take?” He slides into the driver’s seat, and I bounce into the passenger side.
“Who says I stole anything?”
“Your name is Jansen Pierce. If there isn’t something in your pockets, I owe you dinner.”
“Wining and dining me? Hoping to get lucky, then?”
He shoves me, then waits for me to pull out some jingle balls from the sleeve of my coat. “I guess nobody’s getting wined and dined, then,” I say.
“Dude, those jingle. I don’t... Never mind. And just because I’m not taking you out doesn’t mean we’re not getting lucky.”
I sigh, wishing Clara were with us. “Very lucky.”
We head back home, both of us in our own heads.
“How serious do you think Trips’ dad was about her not being with all of us?” he asks after a while.
“No idea.”
“How would he even enforce that? We’re all in our house together—what goes on in there is our business, not anyone else’s.”
Something that feels an awful lot like dread hits me straight in the gut. “Don’t say shit like that.”
