“Accidentally.”
That got everyone’s attention, because apparently accidental cats were universally compelling. So I told them. The stray in the apartment hallway, the turkey bribe, the ugly crate, the screaming, the hissing, the two-day road trip, the fact that I had named him Bandit because Stockholm syndrome apparently worked both ways.
By the end, Regan was shaking her head. “Damn, girl.”
I showed them the scratch across my hand. “Parting gift.”
Regan grabbed my wrist before I could pull away. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the red line. “That’s gonna get ugly.”
“I’ll clean it when I get in.”
“No,” she said. “You’re cleaning it tonight.”
I laughed. “Bossy.”
Skye smirked into her drink. “You have no idea.”
I started pushing back my chair. “I should go.”
Regan caught the chair with her boot. “Where?”
I thumbed toward the parking lot. “Still got a few hours.”
Her whole face changed.
Five seconds of silence.
Then she said, “Alone at night On a desert highway with nothing out there but ghosts and snakes?”
I blinked. “Yeah?”
“And the cat?”
“Also yes.”
Regan shook her head. “No.”
I laughed. “No?”
“No.”
Amber pointed her margarita at me. “Hard no.”
Evie leaned back in her chair. “Absolutely not.”
I looked around the table. “You all get bossy very fast for people I met fifteen minutes ago.”
Regan folded her arms. “It’s not safe.”
“It’s a highway.”
Amber snorted. “Not all highways are the same.”
Regan leaned closer. “You’re coming with us.”
I stared. “What?”
“We rented an Airbnb. Spa weekend. You can crash there.”
