Page 52 of Kitty Season
Plum smiles, the first true one I’ve seen on her, and yeah, she thinks I’m an idiot too.
“Thank you. I think you’re great, also. But it’s an issue for me, and if I’m honest it’s why I became a lecturer rather than a treating psychologist.”
“Because you don’t like people?”
“No, it’s not that I don’t like people, rather I become too attached and struggle to maintain boundaries. It’s somewhat of a family curse. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday.” She exhales slowly. “Anyway, my point is this. If you want either Miss Harris, Mr. Becker, or both of them, don’t give up. You’ll be doing them and yourself a disservice.”
A little flustered, I rub my hand down my face. “Wow, that … ahh, that must have been some car ride.”
“Yes, it was rather … enlightening.”
I slide my gaze from Plum, to Troye and Quinn at the very moment they look our way. Quickly skating over Faith, their eyes meet mine and lock. Quinn’s growing smile is breathtaking, Troye’s ever present smirk/wink combo is arrogant, and I’m enamored, unable, perhaps unwilling, to look away.
As they tend to do,the boys from the team win over the girls from Quinn’s class, and leave en masse. Coach lost his mind and went to bed when he spotted Quinn and Troye dancing. Noah and Lotte depart not long after, but honestly, they’d spent so much time in the pool house, or the bathroom, or behind a palm they may as well not have been here. So that leaves Cory, who the loved-up duo forgot to take home, Professor Plum, Mrs. Harris. And me.
Quinn and Troye are here somewhere too, but I lost sight of them half an hour ago, which is surprising since I’ve charted their every move like Rapunzel—and Lotte for that matter—do stars on their walls. In my bid to track them down I’ve become trapped in conversation with Mrs. Coach. It was the accent that caught her attention, but the legendary drop bears that are holding it. I’ve tried to slip away a few times when she paused to breathe, but with Plum and Cubby ignoring my telepathic pleas for help and engrossed in their own conversation, there’s no one else to talk to anyway.
Maybe I should just make a run for it. I have been getting good at that lately.
“How are you feeling after that nasty knock?” Mrs. Harris inquires, leaning around me to study the back of my headas though she could see the concussion. “David tells me you bounced back impressively.”
I wish that was the case. Not a day has passed where vertigo hasn’t had me at the point of chucking at least twice. More if you count when waking up and falling asleep, or any form of lying down. Hmm. That’s probably not good.
“Of course he has.” Troye’s elbow knocks into mine firmly enough that I need to take a step to keep from falling. There’s that vertigo again. “I just gave you a little love tap, didn’t I Skippy?”
The perfect reply remains elusive because beside Dickwad, is a swollen lipped, mussed hair debauched Quinn. And is that … a hickey in mirror image location to Troye’s swallow tattoos? With no discretion at all, I spin and tilt and, yep. Matching hickies.
How nauseating.
My noticing is noticed and Quinn slaps her hand over top of the sizable welt. Unsurprisingly, her boyfriend harbors no shame. “Want to add one of your own, big fella?”
“Troye.” All flirty and cute, Quinn giggles, latches on to his arm, then mine. As a threesome we stumble towards the door, halting when Faith declares her night is over.
“Would you like a ride, Cory?”
“I bet he would,” Troye mutters, ensuring Cubby blushes as hard as I would if the situation was reversed. Polite thank you's and farewells are exchanged, and the instant Cubby and Plum are out the door Quinn slams it behind them and nods toward the yard.
“Okay, darling. I might turn in.” Mrs. Harris plants a final happy birthday kiss on her daughter’s cheek, and heads to the stairs. “The cleaners will be here at seven, so you three have fun, but do be a good girl and try not to get too messy.”
Snorting so hard he almost chokes, Troye stares at the ceiling, while my stomach rolls, slowly forming a painful knot.
It’s just the three of us.
Just like I thought I wanted.
Definitely what my dick did.
Looking like an absolute wet dream, Quinn sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and I go from half-mast to not so half.
I’m not sure what Troye’s up to, ‘cause I’m too scared to look. I can sense him though, edging closer.
Shit.
This might actually happen.
What the hell was I thinking?
This is not me.
