I’m not sure exactly how I feel about Logan yet.
My inner Omega wants everything to do with him, though.
She’s screeching like a banshee and climbing the walls of her enclosure, frothing at the mouth and drooling, desperate to scent him again.
Maeve, though? Rational me?
I don’t have any answers, and it’s even worse now that Ivan isn’t here.
I miss him already.
He’s my favorite lunch buddy, since usually Blair and Piper don’t take their breaks at the same time that I do, or if they do, at least one of their Alphas has lunch with them.
I’m always invited, but I still feel like a third, fourth, or even fifth wheel.
At least guitar class is starting soon.
Maple chirps delightedly at me while I prepare her venison wet food.
“Maybe after I learn to play guitar, I’ll serenade you,” I tell her. “Maybe that will calm your stomach down.”
As much as I adore these cats, more than half of them have special diets. Blair made a spreadsheet of who gets what, what portions, and what ingredients they can and can’t have.
Who knew cat food allergies were so common?
Blair also made a spreadsheet about the litterboxes—I’m not a big fan of reporting those findings, but they’ve made a difference in the cats’ health.
Maple lovingly headbutts my hand.
“Actually, I won’t sing for you,” I tell her. “That might scare you away.”
“Talking to the cats again?” a voice behind me asks, and I smile at Blair’s question.
“You do it too,” I accuse.
“Never said I didn’t. Want some help?”
“Sure,” I reply, gently nudging Bean away from Maple’s bowl. “Hurry before they riot.”
We work in silence for a few moments, until I sense Blair’s eyes on me.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing after yesterday.”
I bite my lip, frustrated. “Blair, I don’t need to be treated like a kid. I’m not going to break.”
“I know that, but I’m still going to check in on you,” she says. “What happened with Alvin?”
“His eye was weird,” I murmur, suddenly interested in Bean’s dark tail. “And I kind of found some worst-case scenarios online.”
“We’ve all done that,” Blair says kindly.
“Yeah, but it was bad. Ivan and Logan saw it, and it got awkward with Logan.”
Blair snorts. “Loganisawkward,” she says. “That guy can’t even say your name without his face turning red.”
I try to hide a delighted smile. “Liar.”
