I remain squatting, holding her.
Luna is calm now, watching as he approaches.
He gets close enough to sniff her.
Then he sits, tail flickering.
I glance at Drew. He looks between the three of us in amazement.
Good.
Eventually, he'll stop questioning me altogether.
32
VIOLET
I stay longerthan I should.
Not long enough to overplay my hand.
Just long enough to matter.
Dinner went well.
Drew spilled his water twice—once when Sebastian questioned my late-night walk again, and once when Mr. Pickles clawed his ankle after Drew suggested Luna might become as judgmental as a certain black cat.
Luna is curled in my lap while Ivy asks questions about food, toys, and whether I think she’ll stay this fluffy forever.
Drew sits across from us, one ankle resting over his knee. He looks more relaxed now, though his gaze keeps drifting back to me.
Mr. Pickles sits a few feet away. His tail flicks every few seconds, and those yellowish-green eyes remain fixed on Luna like he’s personally offended by her existence. But he hasn’t hissed again.
“I still can’t believe how tiny she is,” Ivy says, leaning closer. “She looks like a dust bunny with anger issues.”
Drew huffs out a quiet laugh. “That’s accurate.”
I hold Luna up slightly. “I was defending myself,” I say in a falsetto, speaking on her behalf.
“From what?” Drew asks, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“You.” I turn Luna toward him. “I heard you fall down steps.”
Ivy snorts. “You have no idea. He ripped his pants?—”
“You made me,” Drew says, pointing at Luna. He glares at Ivy. “And we’re not talking about that.”
“You need to tell me the story sometime,” I say to him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell it,” Ivy says with a twinkle in her eyes.
Sebastian, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, gives a low laugh.
I glance at him.
He’s still watching me.
Not in the easy, distracted way Drew does.
