“Even so,” she says, uncaring as she walks past, hand brushing mine.
I grab onto it, pulling her back. A few weeks ago, a touch like this would have probably sent her reaching for her knife. Now she just leans into it, lips curving into a smile when I press a kiss to her mouth. If I could find a way to tell her how far she’s come—how brave she’s been—without sounding like a patronizing asshat, I would. Instead, I say it with a kiss, tucking her against me.
We spend the entire day like that, going back up to my bathroom every now and then to check on Abby. Every time we return, it seems like she has another kitten in the box with her. Sugar lets me take her to whatever corner of the house that’s still uncharted, camera going off every now and then. And if I pull her into a coat room, or a den, or a pantry for another one of those quick, stolen kisses, then she doesn’t seem to mind.
She begins looking a little more at ease here, in this ridiculous fucking house, following me up and down stairs and corridors. Once, she even pulls me aside for one of those kisses, laughing when my stomach grumbles.
That’s how we find ourselves eating dinner in my sitting room. It’s no surprise the staff went all out; soup, bread, cheese, and dessert. We eat on the floor in front of the coffee table, legs kicked out as something loud and fast plays over my sound system.
“Wilcox,” she says, chomping on a piece of bread, as she chooses another song. “Your life is bougie as fuck.”
I don’t argue. Much. “I spend most of my time in the dorms, so only on select weekends, really.”
She gives me a wry look. “Your dorm, at your extremely prestigious academy, with its kitchen and living room and entertainment system. Truly roughing it.”
“You know,” I point out, “you’d be living a bougie life too, if you let me spoil you more.”
“You already gave me a new laptop and that ridiculous fucking check—which I still haven’t cashed, by the way.”
“I didn’t give you the check,” I clarify. “I chose you to get the check, but it’s only like one-twelfth my own money. If you don’t cash it, it’s just going to rot away in the bank account. No skin off my back.”
She curls her lip distastefully, but I can see the gears moving when she pops a piece of cheese into her mouth. I’m wearing her down, slowly but surely.
By the time the day starts winding down, we find a whole bundle of squirming, slick kittens nestled into Abby’s belly. Sugar’s hunched over the box, trying to count them.
“I think that’s just her tail,” Sugar points.
“No, it’s got stripes. Pretty sure.”
“You’re not even close enough to tell.” Sugar laughs at the grimace on my face as I peer over from my spot on the counter. Abby might not be birthing anything at the moment, but she’s still laying in a big ole box of ‘nope’. “They’re so tiny,” she coos. “These three look just like Hades, don’t you think?”
I crane my neck to take a reluctant look. “Yep, three little voids.”
“There’s no way they could have survived in the ice,” she says, looking vaguely upset at the notion. “Not where Abby was stuck.”
I agree, “We did the right thing by bringing them here.”
There’s a quiet knock on the door and Liesel pops her head in. “All right?”
“Five kittens. Or possibly four and a tail. Hard to say.” I watch as she smiles and leans in, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over them. For all that she was opposed, Liesel is just a big softy at the end of the day. “I think they probably need some rest.”
“I brought up a bowl for some water. We didn’t have any cat food, but I mashed up some tuna.” She pushes in with a bowl in each hand, and I take them from her, setting them where Abby can reach them easily.
“Thank you,” Sugar says quickly, earning a pleased look from Liesel. “Can I help carry these dirty towels downstairs or something?”
“Don’t trouble yourself. Just hand them over and I’ll take care of it.” She grabs the laundry basket from the closet and drops in the used towels. She tells me, “I’m staying the night in the guest house. It’s too slick to drive all the way home. If you need something—anything…” She gives me a soft,