I hop onto a stool, exchanging a smirk with Reagan. She refills my drink. Hana makes her way over to me a few minutes later.
“Maya, I’m going to head out,” she says.
“Oh, already? Okay. Thanks for coming with me tonight.”
She beams. “Of course. Thanks for inviting me, I had a great time.”
“You’re leaving?” Elijah asks.
She stares at him for a beat. “Yeah. I need to study for finals.”
“I’ll walk you back.”
“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay.”
He dips his chin to level her with a look that says he isn’t budging on this. “My sister will kill me if she catches wind I let you go home on your own. She made me swear to keep an eye on you after she graduated.”
Hana lifts her brows. “Oh, so now that extends to college?”
He grins and shrugs. “Let me walk you?”
“Fine.”
“Later, rookie,” Easton says.
Elijah offers a brief wave, trailing after Hana. Easton abandons his attack on Cameron to stand behind me, hands absently settling on my waist.
“Having a good time?”
I lean back against him, the corners of my eyes crinkling. “Yeah.”
He kisses my cheek. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
This is a night that will be ingrained in my memories for years to come, one I’ll look back on to remember the good times from college. I want it to last forever.
TWENTY-TWO
EASTON
Our group makesour way back to the house when Reagan’s shift ends. I keep Maya tucked beneath my arm, keeping her warm against the frigid chill in the winter air.
Kit-cat waits for me on the porch, pacing back and forth when we start up the path to the house.
“Oh, is this where you hang out?” Maya moves ahead to crouch in front of my cat. “Do these boys give you all the food?”
“That’s all Easton,” Theo says on his way to the door. “He started feeding her freshman year. Then brushing her. Now she’s claimed this as her place.”
“She likes it when her coat is shiny.” I squeeze the back of my neck as heat creeps up it.
Maya shoots me a pleased look. “Of course she does. I met her a while back on one of my night walks. What’s her name?”
“She sort of doesn’t have an official one,” I admit. “We call her a bunch of things, but usually I land on Kit-cat.”
She hums, petting the cat beneath her chin. “I think she looks more like a Turnip.”
“Turnip?”
“What? It’s a great name for a cat.”
