Like:Pet me. Now.
I stared at him. “Dude.”
Tiddles purred louder.
“You always were his favorite,” Frankie said, and there was something in her voice—fond, tired, a little broken—that made my throat tighten.
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing behind Tiddles’ ears because he was relentless. “He’s got good taste.”
Tabby decided my other hand was also acceptable and settled against my thigh. That meant I had to let go of Frankie, but we were both petting Tabby now. Tory posted up near Frankie’s hip like a tiny sentry. Tiddles curled closer, purring like a chainsaw.
Frankie shifted just enough to sit up a little, eyes on them like she was taking inventory to make sure they were real.
“They’re okay,” she whispered more to herself than me.
“They’re okay,” I agreed. And then, because I meant it, I added, “And you’re okay too.”
Her gaze lifted to mine. There was so much in her eyes—anger still, fear still, exhaustion like a second skin—but also… something steadier now. Like the cats had anchored her back to the planet.
We sat like that for a few minutes, the five of us in a quiet, strange pile of comfort.
Then the door opened.
Rachel came back in first, carrying a mug. Jeremy followed behind her with a tray. The man just brought order wherever he went. Soothing order at that.
The smell hit me—chocolate and something warm and sweet—and my stomach actually growled. I hadn’t had time to eat.
Rachel gave me a look over the rim of the mug that saidI am still evaluating you,but the fact she didn’t immediately kick me out counted as progress.
Jeremy’s eyes flicked to me, unbothered. “Mr. Cooper,” he said, as if we were in a normal universe. “Hot cocoa. It seemed appropriate.”
He set the tray down, then handed Frankie a mug with the kind of care you’d use on a live grenade. “For you, Miss Frankie.”
Then—without hesitation—he held the other mug out to me.
I blinked.
Rachel’s eyebrows lifted like she was surprised too.
I took it carefully. “Uh. Thanks.”
Jeremy inclined his head. “Of course.”
The cocoa was hot enough to fog the air above it, a little swirl of steam, and for a second it felt absurd—like life couldn’t possibly be this dramatic and this domestic at the same time.
Tabby immediately tried to sniff it.
“Absolutely not,” I warned her. She ignored me and leaned closer anyway.
Frankie took a careful sip, eyes closing for half a second like her body remembered how to accept comfort.
Rachel sat on the chair near the bed, watching Frankie with that fierce, protective focus that made me weirdly grateful she was here.
I cleared my throat. “I can—” I started, then tried again. “I can give you guys some time.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed, but I was too damn tired to try and interpret Manning’s thoughts at the moment. I could just take her at face value. She wasn’t stabbing me or spitting, so we were in a good place.
Frankie’s hand tightened around the mug. “No,” she said quickly.
