Fiona grins. “Oh yeah? Who?”
“An old conquest. He would’ve been mine by now if I hadn’t been distracted by Reyn coming back.” She crosses and uncrosses her legs. “Bass and I go way back. I think it may be time to rekindle that spark, know what I mean?”
Sebastian. Here we go again. I shouldn’t be surprised he’d be into a girl like the one in front of me. Everything about her reeks trouble. Even if he’s not looking for it, I get the feeling it follows him around like a magnet.
“I hear about him and Carlton going to the car shows all the time, now that he can’t fight anymore. I found a hookup who can send me the time and location of the next one. I’m hoping once he’s hopped up on adrenaline, he’ll be ready to give this another shot.”
“It’s a solid plan,” her friend says. The lunch bell rings before I can hear anything else, and I return my battered laptop to my bag and head into the hall. The swarm of students goes in one direction, toward the dining hall. I fall behind the current, tucking my limbs in close, putting on my best fuck-you-glare to discourage any closeness. When I finally get into the line, I surreptitiously search the large room. It doesn’t take long to find it. Right in the center of it all, I catch sight of Afton’s straight posture and Georgia’s red hair. Weaving his way to their table is the tuft of blond hair that’s haunted my nightmares for months. My pulse quickens at the mere sight of him, and nope, there’s no chance I’m sitting with these people, no matter how popular or connected they are. I didn’t come here to climb a ladder, anyway. I came for an education and a ticket out of the Cliffs.
I grab one of the to-go boxes at the end of the counter and quickly swipe my card. I then cut along the backside of the room, away from the tables, and duck out the side door.
The sun is out, which makes it warm enough that my lack of coat isn’t an issue. I make my way back behind the dining hall, back to where I’d seen the cats the night before. I don’t see any as I approach, but I take a seat on the tree stump and open my lunch. There’s a turkey sandwich with lettuce and cheese, a bag of chips, and an orange. I peel the orange and then pull apart the meat in the sandwich, hoping to lure the cats into the open.
It doesn’t take long before I see the mama cat peek her orange nose out from behind a bush. Moments later, the black one slinks from the tree line. There’s no sign of the gray one, but I carry over a few pieces of meat and leave them on the ground. They watch me suspiciously as I go back to the stump.
What these cats don’t realize is that I’m a very patient person. I have nowhere to be and nothing to do but eat my orange and try to get them used to me. The black cat emerges first, nose twitching as he sniffs the turkey a few feet away. He makes a wide arc around, both coming closer and farther away at the same time.
Quietly, carefully, I take out my camera.
The black cat eats the turkey as the mama looks on, skeptical but clearly wanting. I capture a series of shots of her sitting near the bush, her round belly making the sharpness of her shoulders seem even more striking.
I’m swinging my camera around to get a look at the black one when someone else fills my lens. Sebastian Wilcox stands about twenty feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, aloof expression on his face.
Startled, it takes a moment of fumbling to be sure I don’t drop my camera. If I do, I’m beyond fucked. The only reason this place wanted me was because of my photos. Without a camera, I’m….
You’re trash. You’re nothing.
I swing my hot gaze to his, fuming. It doesn’t matter that he looks surprised to see me, one leg still outstretched as if he’d frozen in place. I still go tense and still at the thought of him seeking me out.
I lurch upright and grab my bag, clutching it close, dipping my hand inside to find my knife. Startled by my movements, the cats both run away.
No—not running away.
Running toward Sebastian. Even the gray one darts out of the woods, making a beeline for him.
“For the record,” he starts, holding up his hands. “I did not follow you out here.”
I glare at him, both speechless and furious.
“But I am starting to wonder if maybe you’re following me,” he says, shoving his hand into the small side pocket of his backpack. He pulls out something metal and round. “Because I have a standing lunch date with these three sexy beasts.”
I gawk—yeah, gawk—as he pulls the tab on the can and the scent of tuna wafts through the air. The orange and black cat circle nearby, but the gray one goes right up to him and rubs all over the legs of his dark pants, tail winding around his ankle. He squats and rests the can on the ground before opening a second, and then a third. He shoves one toward the mama cat, who tentatively comes closer, but still not quite within reach. The black cat pushes her out of the way.
“Don’t be a dick,” he says, talking directly to the cats. “Abby is eating for a multitude—she is legion—so don’t be greedy,” he admonishes the black one. “I mean, you’re the one who knocked her up, after all.”
Wait. “You named them?” I blurt, even though I should be using the distraction to make my escape.
He glances up, giving me a view of his clear blue eyes. He looks me over, and it’s not like before. This is not an eye-fucking. It’s full of uncertainty and pique. I get the feeling he’s putting me through a test.
I must pass.
He lifts a shoulder in a loose shrug. “Sure. Gave them rightful Devil names. That’s Abbadon,” he points to the orange and white cat, “Hades,” the black cat, “and Lucy—you know, for Lucifer.” He runs his finger over her ear, and I notice the small half-moon. “I managed to trap Lucy last year, get her fixed and tagged. She’d already had a couple of litters and the animal rescue was able to re-home them.” He frowns down at Hades. “But the other two are skittish, I’ve been working to get him close enough to catch. I almost got them used to me before Christmas break, but I had to leave, so now we’re back to square one.”
It’s the most I’ve heard him speak, and although I hear what he’s saying, I’m mostly watching him. His movements, his expression, the way he jerks his head, flicking his hair from his eyes. I keep waiting for something to make him explode, holding the hilt of the knife, just in case. But out here, focused on the cats, scratching under Lucy’s chin, his whole demeanor is deceptively chill.
It doesn’t put me at ease, and I don’t try to hide my sneer. “So, what, you’re like some kind of cat savior?”
He gives me a weird look, something in his eyes shuttering. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I need to get away from shit—take a walk. I came back here one day and found these guys.”
He stands and both Abby and I take a few steps back, keeping a wary eye on him. If he notices, he doesn’t say so, but he does pick up his backpack and look over at me. “Dr. Ross told me to apologize for what happened in class. You’ll learn pretty quick that she’s not the teacher you want to fuck around with. She’s savage.”
“Well, I guess it takes one to know one.”
His jaw tics and his eyes go tight for a moment, like he’s biting something back. “I can assure you that what happened in class today won’t happen again. Consider it a momentary lapse in judgment.”