Page 126 of Piece Us Together

He makes a sound that’s not quite an agreement, but not a denial either. He knows there’s a good chance that I’m right. I hate that. I hate the thought of Maison out there somewhere, probably hurting himself, so much more.

Stud Muffin decides to deign us with his presence, hopping right from the floor to my stomach and giving me a dirty look when I grunt from the impact. I glare at him. “You’re not helping, sir.”

He blinks at me before suddenly deflating, his giant floof of a body seeming to melt into a puddle.

Matt’s stomach bounces beneath my head. I don’t have to turn and look to know the asshole is laughing at me.

Before I can say something quippy—to either of them—my phone vibrates.

There’s a brief moment of chaos where too many limbs, a phone, and plumes of fur go flying through the air. We all end up landing on our feet, but Stud Muffin is downright pissed, letting loose an angry yowl that has us flinching back before sticking histail up in the air to show us his asshole and sauntering away—most likely to go tell on us to Bryce.

Matt grabs my phone from the floor and hurriedly pushes it into my hands.

For a single moment, my heart drops when I see it’s a text from Hunter instead of Maison.

Then I read the words.

Hunter:Can you come over? Maison is here. He needs both of us.

Before I can type a response fast enough with my shaking hands, another message follows.

Hunter:Let yourself in. We’re in the usual room.

Matt makes an anxious sound, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He hits me rapidly on the shoulder. Then makes the sound again. I look up, only halfway through my text to Hunter still. The very second he has my attention, he’s signing.

“Woah. Stop. Slow down.” I shake my head. “Way slower.”

The anxious sound again before he slowly signs,what does that mean? Is it a sex thing? Why are they in the usual room? Is that the sex room?

I huff. “I—yeah. That’s the sex room, I guess. And where we sleep. I don’t think it’s going to be a sex thing, though. They don’t do that together, remember?”

He gives me a look that makes it clear he thinks I’m an idiot. On the off-chance it wasn’t clear, he also signs,idiot.

“Okay, your thoughts on Maison’s definite denial—and my probable obliviousness—are duly noted. I highly doubtthis, whatever happenedtonight, is a sex thing. There’s no way. Not with the fight and the way Maison was today and not without me there. I won’t know what’s going on until I get there, though. Which means you need to let me go.”

He steps away and gestures quickly at the door as if to ask,what the fuck are you waiting for, then?

I sigh heavily, shaking my head at him. Then shaking my head at Stud Muffin, who I find squatting on my shoes as if the cranky fucker knew I’d want them and was desperate to inconvenience me.

“Off,” I tell him with a shooing hand. “Come on, dude. Off.”

He spreads his legs and starts licking his junk right over my left boot.

I squat down in front of him until we’re eye to eye. He pauses his licking, which I appreciate. “Listen. I will make tuna for dinner tomorrow and I will give you so much of it, you’ll be sick of the stuff. But you have to move.”

“Are you bargaining with my cat right now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” I sigh as I push to my feet and turn to glare at Bryce. “He won’t let me leave.”

“He’s a cat.”

“Bryce, I don’t know if you know this, but that thing is a demon. A fat, cranky demon with sharp claws and teeth that hurt like a bitch.”

Bryce puts a hand over his chest. I swear if he was wearing pearls, he’d clutch them. “Stud Muffin is a fucking delight. If he attacks, it’s because he’s provoked.”

“He’s on my boots.”

“How is he supposed to know he can’t be there? He’s acat, Nol.”

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