That did surprise me, and that little tidbit kicked off a conversation about music and then movies. Of course, we ended up arguing, because seriously, we couldn’t have a conversation without one, but she thought the second Godfather movie was better than the first, and that was a simply wretched thing to say.
Hours passed, and it felt like only minutes. We ended up stretched out on opposite sides of the couch, side by side, both of us growing sleepy at the same time. We argued. We laughed. We were normal. It—all of this—was nice. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this relaxed.
I had no idea how much time had passed between the last time I blinked my eyes and reopened them. I knew it was really late, and there was a lull in the conversation, and I was drifting into that peaceful place between waking and sleeping. At some point, I opened my eyes. Not by much, just a thin slit really, and I found her watching me, her expression soft and…and downright perfect.
Kat moved suddenly, grabbing the large quilt off the back of the couch. She draped it over my legs. I waited for her to climb over me and leave, but she must’ve grabbed a second quilt and covered herself with it.
Another small victory.
“Thank you,” I murmured, closing my eyes again.
There was a pause. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Almost, but you’re staring at me.”
“I am not.”
I pried one eye open. “You always blush when you lie.”
“I do not.”
“If you keep lying, I think I will have to leave,” I threatened. “I don’t feel like my virtue is safe.”
“Your virtue?” She huffed. “Whatever.”
“I know how you get.” Grinning, I closed my eyes. In the background, the TV played more long-forgotten music. I knew I would need to get up soon, no matter what. If her mom came home and found me lying here, it wouldn’t be pretty. I was close to dozing off.
“Did you find it?” she asked.
I moved my hand over my chest. “Find what, Kitten?”
“What you were searching for?”
My eyes opened and my gaze held hers. “Yeah, sometimes, I think I did.”
Chapter 12
At the start of trig class on Monday, I couldn’t help but mention those socks when I sat down behind Kat.
“Reindeer socks today?” I asked.
“No. Polka dots.”
“Sock mittens?”
“Regular.” Her lips twitched as if she was fighting a grin.
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” I tapped my pen on the edge of my desk, pretending to give this serious thought. “Regular socks just seem so boring after seeing the reindeer socks.”
Lesa cleared her throat. “Reindeer socks?”
“She has these socks that have reindeer on them and are kind of like a mitten for the toes,” I explained.
“Oh, I have a pair like that,” Carissa said, grinning. “But mine have stripes on them. Love them in the winter.”
Kat’s look was all smugness.
“Am I the only person who is wondering how you saw her socks?” Lesa asked.
Carissa punched her on the arm.
“We live next door to each other,” I reminded her. “I see lots of things.”
Kat shook her head frantically. “No, he doesn’t. He hardly sees anything.”
“Blushing,” I said, pointing at her cheeks with my pen.
“Shut up.” There wasn’t any heat to her words.
“Anyway, what are you doing tonight?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I have plans.”
“What kind of…plans?”
“Just plans.” She flipped back around in her seat.
Just plans? I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be thrilled with those plans. For some reason, I was surprised, because I had a strong suspicion those plans involved the douche bag, and after Saturday night…
Why the hell did I think Saturday night changed anything?
Because we slept side by side until I got my ass out of there before her mom came home. Barely. I had to tap into some light-speed shit to get out of the house without being caught.
As I sat back, I saw that Simon wasn’t in class today. Damn shame. I wanted to see how he acted around Kat to determine what kind of risk he posed, but I wasn’t too surprised by his absence. He hadn’t shown up for class on Friday, either. I still couldn’t believe he had the balls or the amount of stupidity to show his face Friday night.
I frowned at the formula the teacher wrote on the chalkboard. I was pretty sure it was not correct. Chewing on the end of my pen, I glanced at Kat.
She was looking over her shoulder at me. Pink zoomed across her cheeks, and she hastily turned around, but it was too late. I’d caught her.
Around the cap of my pen, I smiled.
It was around five when my phone dinged. It was from Matthew.
We need to meet. All of us. Including Katy. It’s about the DOD.
Kicking my feet off the coffee table, I sat up straight. I responded back only to him, but he wouldn’t answer any of my questions. All he was saying was that he was coming over here. No more than two seconds later, Dee appeared in the living room, cell phone in hand. She opened her mouth.
“Where’s Kat?” I asked.
She winced and then pivoted toward the door. “I’ll go get her.”
I beat her to the door, car keys in hand. “Where is she?”
Dee placed her hands on her hips, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“I can stand here and stare at you all night—it’s not going to change anything,” I told her, and then sighed. “Look, I pretty much guessed this morning that she was going out with him. It’s not a big surprise. I’ll go get her and you can stay here and make sure everyone stays cool. You’re better at that than me.”
She looked away, her jaw working. “She went to that restaurant that has Indian food—”
“Got it.” I slipped out the front door. Considering there was only one place in the county that sold Indian food, I knew where to go.
I drove to the restaurant, finding a parking spot across the street. Stepping inside, I immediately felt the warmth along the base of my neck. There wasn’t a wait at the door, and when the hostess approached me with a tired smile, I waved her off. “I’m meeting friends here. I know where they are.”
She stepped aside, and seriously, the place was small enough that I didn’t have to look hard. I passed candlelit tables, nearing a table obscured by a partition wall. I knew she was aware of me before she came into view. Her eyes tracked me right up to the table.
Douche Bag turned around, and his shoulders stiffened. He glanced at Kat. “Overprotective type…?”
“I don’t…even know what to say,” she mumbled helplessly.
“Hey guys.” I slid into the seat next to Kat. The whole left side of my body was pressed against hers. “Am I interrupting?”
“Yes,” she said, mouth agape.
“Oh, sorry.” I wasn’t sorry at all.
Douche Bag smiled as he sat back and folded his arms. “How are you doing, Daemon?”
“I’m doing great.” I stretched, draping my arm along the back of the booth. “How about you, Brad?”
He laughed softly. “My name’s Blake.”
I tapped my fingers on the back of the booth, brushing her hair. “So what were you guys up to?”
“We were having dinner.” Kat started to scoot forward, but I hooked my fingers around the back of her turtleneck. My fingers brushed the back of her neck, and she gasped, stilling.
“And I think we were just about done,” Blake said, his eyes fixed on me. “Weren’t we, Katy?”
“Yeah, we just need our check.” Under the table, Kat’s hand landed on my thigh. I liked where this was going until she pinched—pinched hard.
I tugged on her turtleneck. “What were you planning to do after dinner? Was Biff taking you to a movie?”