Kitty Rocks the House (Kitty Norville 11)
He blinked, surprised. “Sure.”
“You?” I said to Ben.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“The coffee, or me trying to dig myself out of this hole?”
“Yes?” he said, smiling.
The predictability of his answer was somehow comforting.
* * *
WE HAD a favorite diner that we ended up at mornings like these, the kind of place that had coffee cups already on the table and poured without asking if you wanted some. I breathed in the scent—hot, bitter, rich—and felt my skin settle over my body a little more comfortably. Wolf curled her nose at the scent and retreated even further into the background, calm after her night out. Sleeping. Staying human would be easier for the next week or so.
Trey held his cup but didn’t drink. His gaze darted, his leg bounced under the table. He was nervous. I did what I could to set him at his ease, trying not to seem too earnest and demanding. Ben was doing a better job of not looking worried, slouching back against the booth, expression bland. He’d ordered a plate of bacon. Along with coffee, bacon made everything better, right?
“So,” I prompted. “Your girlfriend. Sam.”
His smile was strained. “We talked. I told her.” He sighed.
“And? How did she take it?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know. She said she had to think about it. That she wanted some time alone and she’d call me
when she was ready. That’s a bad sign, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know that I’d jump to that conclusion,” I said. But he was right, this certainly didn’t sound good. “Telling her what you are, that’s a pretty big deal. She probably really does need to think about it.” I hoped I sounded confident.
“I’m worried I’m going to mess this up,” he said, putting his head in his hands, despairing. “I think I’ve already messed this up. She’ll never talk to me again.”
“If she’s really the one, she will. You won’t mess it up.”
“But if she’s really okay with it … with me…” He clamped his mouth shut, looking away, struggling for words, then said, “Wouldn’t she just say so? But I scared her off, I know I did.”
“Not really,” I said. “Not until she really doesn’t call you back.”
“I can’t wait that long. I have to call her.”
“When did you talk to her?”
“Yesterday.”
I grimaced. “You probably shouldn’t have waited until the day of the full moon to talk to her.” We were at our worst on days of the full moon, stressed and irritable. He must have looked slightly mad to her eyes.
“I know,” he moaned. “I just kept putting it off.”
“Give her time, Trey. For real. More than a couple of days. If she hasn’t called back in a week…” Then what? Give up on her? Call her back? Stalk her? “Try giving her a call. Don’t crowd her.”
“That’s your advice. That sounds like something you’d say to anyone.”
“Yeah, it kind of is,” I said. “Why should my advice to you be different? You’re both still people.”
He huffed. “I’m not exactly normal.”
“You are for us.”
He seemed startled, sitting for a moment with his gaze turned inward, eyes looking blankly at the surface of his undrunk coffee. The bacon arrived, its fatty scent cutting across the coffee. Another wake-up call, a summons to humanity. Ben nibbled on a piece. Trey looked at him, maybe for confirmation, maybe for a different opinion.