Page 23 of Missiletoe
Like hell was I sharing my bunny.
“He’smybunny,” I snapped, needing to make it perfectly clear right from the start. Melanie couldn’t have him.
No one could have him.
Her eyes went wide, and she dropped the conversation like a smart person.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, warning bells began going off over how quickly I’d grown hopelessly attached to Vix.
I don’t do that. I mean, I usually like everyone I meet right away unless they prove to be someone unworthy of my friendship. And animals? I’ve yet to meet one I haven’t instantly fallen in love with. Fortunately for me, they love me too, but I’m not possessive over them.
My affection for my friends has always extended to wanting what’s best for them, including them having other friends. Having multiple people to love is an important part of life for animals and people.
However, I didn’t feel that way about my bunny. When Vale tried to take him from me, I’d lost myself. Baz had been clingier with Vix than I’d been comfortable with too. And Melanie innocently suggesting that she might take my bunny home had me seconds from snarling at her even though I knew she’d thought I was talking about an animal rather than a human bunny.
I could clear up the misunderstanding easily enough, but that snarling, possessive part of me didn’t even want her to know Vix existed.
I’d have to get a handle on that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to bring Vix with me to work.
One instance of being possessive over my bunny wouldn’t have been a big deal, but three? And don’t even get me started on how I felt about the mysterious Gareth everyone kept talking about.
Something was clearly up with me.
And yet…
Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to get too worked up over it. Vix was a shooting star across my sky, and I couldn’t help myself. I had to catch him. I wanted to put him in my pocket, take him home, and cherish him like the priceless treasure he clearly was.
So yes, I could sense the warning bells—I’m not as stupid as people make me out to be—but Vix was it for me. Somehow, I knew it down to my bones. It didn’t matter that I’d only spoken to him for a handful of minutes. That vaguewhateverI’d been waiting for in life? Vix was it, and I was helpless to do anything else. I was caught in his tiny orbit, and I would likely never be free.
I felt a smile curve the corners of my mouth. If I could have him near me for the rest of my life, being lost to the feeling of hopeless obsession seemed like a small price to pay.
I just had to figure out how to get him. Otherwise…
No. There was nootherwise.
I’ve learned early on in life that worrying about not getting something I want is useless. It would be like kneecapping myself before starting a race. Stupid and pointless.
My bunny belonged with me. I would get to know him, and he would get to know me. I’d show him how well I could take care of him. Maybe I would get lucky, and he’d let me be a part of his life.
Clearly, the people he already had in it weren’t enough to keep him safe and happy.
He’d never have ended up in my life if they had.
Baz had made it sound like Vix’s sleeping issues were a common thing, and the idea that Vix could have been alone when he’d shut down today was slowly driving me out of my mind. That was why I took Melanie up on her offer so quickly. As soon as Sylvia arrived, I was going straight back to Vix’s house.
Right on cue, the bell rang to signal someone had entered the lobby.
I hurried out to see a short young woman with bubblegum pink hair carrying a cat carrier.
She set the carrier on the counter and smiled up at me. “Phew, this lady ain’t small. I thought I was going to have to ask for help getting her from my car.” She looked me up and down. “Now I kinda wish I had.”
I frowned a little. I’d far rather have had her ask me to come and carry Sylvia. What if this woman had dropped her? “I’m always happy to help when needed. Call the desk next time, and I’ll come out.”
“Sure thing, sugar.” She winked at me as she drew out the wordsugar.She had a Southern accent, so I assumed she was doing the friendly thing a lot of Southerners did.
They tend to be a polite bunch of people in my experience.
“Dropping a pregnant cat would be terrible. Please don’t risk something like that again, okay?” I gave her a serious face to make sure she would understand.
