Chapter 5 #3
As much as I adore these cats, more than half of them have special diets. Blair made a spreadsheet of who gets what, what portions, and what ingredients they can and can’t have.
Who knew cat food allergies were so common?
Blair also made a spreadsheet about the litterboxes—I’m not a big fan of reporting those findings, but they’ve made a difference in the cats’ health.
Maple lovingly headbutts my hand.
“Actually, I won’t sing for you,” I tell her. “That might scare you away.”
“Talking to the cats again?” a voice behind me asks, and I smile at Blair’s question.
“You do it too,” I accuse.
“Never said I didn’t. Want some help?”
“Sure,” I reply, gently nudging Bean away from Maple’s bowl. “Hurry before they riot.”
We work in silence for a few moments, until I sense Blair’s eyes on me.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing after yesterday.”
I bite my lip, frustrated. “Blair, I don’t need to be treated like a kid. I’m not going to break.”
“I know that, but I’m still going to check in on you,” she says. “What happened with Alvin?”
“His eye was weird,” I murmur, suddenly interested in Bean’s dark tail. “And I kind of found some worst-case scenarios online.”
“We’ve all done that,” Blair says kindly.
“Yeah, but it was bad. Ivan and Logan saw it, and it got awkward with Logan.”
Blair snorts. “Logan is awkward,” she says. “That guy can’t even say your name without his face turning red.”
I try to hide a delighted smile. “Liar.”
“No. I bumped into him, and he tried to say he had brought you coffee, but he said it to his shoes most of the time, not me.”
Oh, my god.
I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
“So, guitar class, huh?” Blair adds.
“Yup. Avery thought it was a good idea, and I kind of agree with him.”
“You already dress like a rockstar, why not act the part, too?” she asks.
“Exactly!”
Maple finishes her food in record time, and looks at me expectantly for more.
“Her brain keeps telling her she’s hungry even though she’s not,” Blair sighs. “I think it’s time we invested in a slow feeder for her.”
“Or we could just give her more,” I sigh, familiar guilt eating at me while I look into Maple’s needy eyes. “I don’t want her to be upset.”
“She’s manipulating you,” Blair chides. “You know this by now.”
“Yeah,” I grumble, but still frown at the cat.
“What if her stomach hurts and she can’t tell us?” I ask, knowing the question sounds ridiculous.
There’s a long moment of silence, and then Blair sighs deeply.
“We would see it in her behavior, likely. But she’s eating, using the litter box, playing, and doing all the things we look for in healthy cats.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know,” I mumble guiltily.
Everyone is tired of my useless panic by now, including me.
“Guitar class is going to be good for you, Maeve,” Blair echoes, the smallest bit of sympathy in her tone.
I grimace. “Yeah.”
If shame doesn’t swallow me whole by then, maybe embracing music can help with whatever is going on with me.
Maple, as if noticing my discomfort, nudges my hand in silent affection.
There are two big problems with guitar class.
One, it is much more difficult than I expected, and apparently, I know less than nothing about music.
My na?ve self thought that renting the guitar from the music department of Luna Community College would be the most difficult part of the course.
Nope.
Turns out, I have to learn music to pass the class.
The entire first day, I don’t even pick up the guitar—instead I stare at a music staff wondering what the hell Avery got me to agree to.
That’s the first problem.
The second problem, which is arguably even bigger than my inability to understand the basics of music theory?
The professor smells like leather and sin and looks even better than his scent.
He goes by Fang—which somehow makes it worse.
I want to know why. Is it because he bites? Is he some type of mythical guitar vampire Alpha?
He looks like a literal rockstar—dark inky-black hair that falls into his icy blue eyes, and tattoos that peek above the collar of his tight fitting black button-up shirt.
I sit in the back of the class, but if I squint, I swear I can make out the dark shape of a cat tattooed his wrist.
If he’s a cat lover, I’ll lose my mind.
Yet throughout the class, as much as I try to pay attention, my thoughts bounce all over the place.
He is much more attractive than I expected, and my body is acting like he’s mine.
My inner Omega is just as excited about Fang as she is about Logan.
In her head, she’s collecting Alphas like they’re trading cards.
But I manage to get through the guitar class without acting like his scent is affecting me—the buttery leather aroma has my mouth watering, but I force myself to not squirm in my seat.
I’m here to learn, not start building a pack in my head.
Not to imagine how Ivan would get along with Fang, and if awkward Logan could somehow fit in with the two of them.
It’s all purely hypothetical, and definitely not happening.
He’s my brother’s colleague and my professor.
And if my underwear suddenly becomes damp with slick, no one needs to know.
“I gave you a shit ton of information today,” he says, his full lips pulled into an almost smile.
His voice is low, but his tone is playful and teasing.
“And I have a feeling that for a lot of you, this is your first time ever reading music.” Quiet groans and mumbling from the other students fill the room.
“My class isn’t about just learning to strum a guitar.
You’re going to respect and understand where the sound comes from. ”
I raise an eyebrow at his intensity. I appreciate his passion.
That’s not the only thing we appreciate about him, my inner Omega purrs.
I squirm in my seat. She’s being a filthy pervert while I’m here to learn, to find something else to throw myself into instead of unfounded worries about the cats I care about.
“There will be a quiz next class, just to make you all mad.” He grins and my stomach falls. “But I do have office hours available, if you need to schedule time with me.”
And for the first time the entire class, his piercing blue eyes flick to mine, but only for a split second.
It’s over so quickly that maybe I imagined it.
Fang has spent his time addressing other students, casting confident, knowing glances around the room to everyone but me.
I know I’m in the back row of seats, but it’s a little unsettling that he hasn’t looked at me at all until now.
But he dismisses us, and I grab my guitar case and am about to leave the room with the other students when I hear my name called.
“Maeve?”
I spin around, and suddenly I’m face to face with him, his leather scent even more mouthwatering the closer I am.
I knew he was handsome. But as I crane my neck to look up at him, I can see the gold flecks that stand out in the blue of his eyes and the slight crinkles around them.
He’s breathtaking.
The other students have spilled out of the room, and I’m aware of how his scent swirls around me, potent and intoxicating.
Oh no.
I am thoroughly screwed if I want to keep taking this class.
“Yes?” I squeak.
I just need to hold my breath until I leave the room.
“So, you’re Avery’s younger sister,” he says, grinning. It’s only then that I notice his dimples.
Yup, I’m going to have to drop this class.
Maybe I’ll take piano instead.
“That’s me,” I say dumbly. “In the flesh.”
He lifts a dark, sculpted eyebrow, and I’m rooted in place.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, and fire rushes through my veins.
“Nice to meet you,” he says simply, as if unaware of the war inside my mind and body. “Avery said great things about you.”
“I would hope so. I’m his favorite sister, after all.”
His eyes brighten even more, and my inner Omega swoons.
“He said something along those lines, too,” he chuckles. “So, why guitar? Why not—” he motions with his hand—“any other instrument or art?”
I was right. There is a cat on his wrist!
A beautiful Siamese cat face, with dark ears and piercing blue eyes.
The tattoo is lovely. Subtle, but stunning with its ink.
It almost distracts me from his question.
“Do you ask all your students that?” I frown, not knowing the correct answer for him.
Oh, yeah. Everyone around me thinks I need something to keep me from bouncing off the walls.
I work at a cat rescue and apparently need to be doing more with my life besides that.
“No, but Avery said this was your only class, and I was curious.”
“Oh.”
I stare at the cat face on Fang’s wrist, wondering if I can find the answer—or at least one that will make sense.
“I’m looking for something new,” I say. “Something to add more color to my life. More joy.”
That’s the best way I can explain why I’m here without giving him the ridiculous backstory behind it.
He seems taken aback by my answer. “You’re in the right place, then,” he says. “Music can do that.”
But his surprise morphs into another smile, this time gentler but just as devastating.
Why does he have to smell and look like that?
“I like your cat tattoo,” I blurt, and he looks down at his wrist, his lip quirking.
“Thanks. Got it about ten years ago. That was my childhood cat, Eevie.”
“She’s gorgeous,” I murmur.
His eyes flick to mine, his face softening. “She was great.”
I smile softly. Bean looks like he could be Eevie’s long-lost nephew, and it makes a warm sensation settle in my stomach.
At my smile, Fang’s breath catches and he clears his throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself to you. If you have any questions before the quiz, my email is on the syllabus.”
“Thanks.” I grin, my internal panic from before subsiding. I have a genuinely good feeling about the Alpha in front of me. Sure, he’s ridiculously handsome, smells beyond tempting, and that black button-up shirt has to be at least a size too small, but he also screams good person.
“Nice to meet you, Fang.”
It’s only after I leave the room that I realize he only mentioned his email, not the office hours that he offered to everyone earlier.