Gentleman Nine - Page 10

“No.” She blew her nose. “Don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s only a few months. I’ll get on some medication or something. That cat loves you. She belongs with you. It would break my heart to see you have to take her to a shelter. I can’t let you do it.” Blowing her nose again, she said in a stuffed-up voice, “By the way, I know where she came from.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching a repeat of the late evening news. A pet store on Devonshire was supposed to get a delivery of cats. The truck was parked while the driver left it unattended. They think someone broke into it and set the cats free.”

“No shit? She’s stolen property? Maybe I’ll take her back there, then?”

“No! You can’t.”

“Well, I can’t let you just…be sick.”

“It’ll be fine. Seriously. Sneezing never killed anyone.”

“That’s pretty insane that you would want to keep her around.”

“Yeah, well, I might just be a little insane.”

“Actually, no, it’s how you are. You’ve always had a kind heart.”

“A lot of good it did me.” She rolled her eyes.

I knew she was referring to Rory and once again wanted to kick his ass.

“God, you must think I’m such a fucking Debbie Downer,” she said. “I haven’t stopped talking about my breakup since you got here.”

“Debbie Downer? Nah. More like Negative Nancy.” I winked.

She sniffled. “Have I mentioned I’m really glad you’re here? I think I’ve smiled more in the last twelve hours than I have in three months.”

And that’s exactly the reason you need to keep yourself in check, Channing.

You can’t risk crossing a line and hurting her.

Your job is what it’s always been, to be her friend, to make her smile.

You weren’t supposed to mess with Amber before she got her heart broken. But after? Now it’s even more important not to fuck up.

“I promise to make an effort to be a little more upbeat,” she said as she looked over at the clock on the wall. “You should go back to bed. You start your job tomorrow. I’m sorry for waking you.”

Feeling more wired than ever, I shook my head. “You didn’t wake me. I got up because I heard you, but I hadn’t fallen asleep yet.”

“Why can’t you sleep? Are you anxious about work?”

I couldn’t exactly admit to her what was really keeping me up.

“Something like that.”***After work the following day, I decided to roam Cambridge before hopping the train back to Amber’s.

Crowded with college students and homeless people, Harvard Square was bustling. The faint sound of live music registered, although I wasn’t sure exactly where it was coming from.

Passing an outdoor café where a bunch of people were sitting around playing chess, it hit me that sightseeing alone in a new city wasn’t really very much fun, so I called Amber to see if she’d want to join me down here. As luck would have it, she had the night off.

We planned to meet at this small, used bookstore that I’d discovered on Brattle Street. It was tucked away, and you had to go down a few steps to access the door.

The place smelled like burnt coffee and old paper. Rich with eccentricities from corner to corner, it was seriously one of the coolest places I’d ever stumbled upon.

I checked the door every few minutes to see if she’d arrived.

When Amber finally entered the place, I noticed that she was making small talk with a hunched-over old man on her way in. She was the type of person who always noticed people, didn’t just walk by them in a fog, but really noticed them. Amber was smiling and chatting up the man before she finally held the door open for him. That was probably the highlight of the old fucker’s entire year.

I loved observing people when they didn’t know I was watching them. Getting to see how someone conducted themselves in their natural state without knowing they were being watched was a true window into their soul. And Amber had a kind soul. That had always been apparent to me.

I waved at her from the corner table I’d snagged.

Amber unraveled her scarf and took a seat across from me. My eyes fell to her neckline and to her perky breasts that were stretching against her pink, fitted sweater. Her hair was staticky from the cold.

She looked around at the musty shelves. “This place is really cool.”

It smelled like incense all of a sudden. It was coming from the opposite side of the room where a woman with dreadlocks stuffed into a knit cap was selling crystals next to the occult book section. A man played guitar in the other corner.

“It’s like a coffeehouse slash used bookstore. I stumbled upon it and thought you might like it here. I remember you used to read a lot.” I suddenly got up. “I’ll be right back.”

Tags: Penelope Ward Romance
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