66. Drew
DREW
Violet insisted we get our families together for dinner.
Not gonna lie—I’m nervous.
This is Callie’s first time meeting Sebastian and Ivy. Violet swears her sister agreed to be on her best behavior.
I remain skeptical.
The doorbell rings and I hurry out of the kitchen, opening it without looking.
It’s Callie.
She’s early.
I open the door and she breezes past me like she owns the place, dropping her bag on the chair and immediately scooping Luna off the floor.
“There’s my girl,” she coos, already cuddling her.
Luna purrs like she’s been waiting all day for this moment.
“Hi,” I say.
Callie glances at me.
“Hey, Poison Ivy,” she says with a laugh.
I glower at her. “Don’t call me that.”
She shrugs. “Much better than itchy balls.”
I stare at her.
This is my life now.
Violet comes out of the kitchen. “Stop teasing him.” She pulls Callie into her arms and hugs her, mouthing an “I’m sorry” to me over Callie’s shoulder.
I shrug, then head back into the kitchen.
It’s my fault for telling that story in front of Violet’s sister.
But it was necessary.
Now I’ll just have to deal with Callie’s teasing.
Probably for a lifetime.
Violet comes over to me, a warm smile on her face. “Stop fretting.”
“I’m not.”
She stares at me.
“Fine,” I huff. “I’m fretting.”
She squeezes my ass before heading to the kitchen. I follow her.
She stops at the counter and begins chopping potatoes.
“You need help?” I ask.
“No.”
I don’t move. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I grab a knife.
She takes it out of my hand without looking. “You’re in the way.”
“I’m helping.”
“You’re hovering.”
“I’m contributing.”
“You’re avoiding my sister.”
I pause. “That’s a fair assessment.”
She glances at me, a smile playing on her lips. “You can set the table.”
I nod, relieved to have something to do that doesn’t involve interacting with her psychotic sister.
The doorbell rings again.
I head for the door and open it to find Sebastian and Ivy standing there.
Ivy is practically vibrating with excitement. Sebastian looks amused.
“We brought a guest,” Ivy says immediately.
“That sounds like a threat,” I reply.
“It is,” Sebastian confirms.
I step back. “Come in.”
Mr. Pickles steps from behind Ivy, walking in like he owns the place.
I tense, wondering how Luna will react.
He stops, spotting Luna.
He doesn’t move. Just watches her with the kind of focused and calculating look I’ve seen on Ivy’s face.
Then he starts moving.
I suck in a breath, watching as he slowly circles Luna.
“Why does that look familiar?”
Ivy laughs. “Makes sense he’s stalking her.”
Sebastian nods. “He has excellent taste.”
I blink.
Wait.
Hold on.
Mr. Pickles is stalking my cat?
I glance at Luna.
She’s aware of him.
Her ears flick.
Her eyes track his every movement.
But she doesn’t run. Doesn’t hide. Doesn’t get defensive.
If anything, she looks… interested.
I stare at both of them.
“Nope,” I mutter. Not going there.
“Oh, he likes her,” Callie says, bouncing in delight. “If they have babies, I get first pick of the litter.”
“What?” I tug at my shirt, feeling overheated.
Callie rolls her eyes. “Go drink some water before you have a stroke."
Dinner is chaos.
Ivy is animated, talking nonstop.
Callie jumps in like they’ve known each other forever.
Sebastian just sits back, watching everything as if this were the best show he’s seen all week.
Violet moves through it all effortlessly, serving and talking like this is perfectly normal.
I try to act normal... but fail.
How the hell am I supposed to eat mashed potatoes when there are three stalkers at my dinner table?
My girlfriend.
My sister-in-law.
And apparently, Callie, who casually mentioned over dinner that she’s almost had two restraining orders filed against her like she was talking about the weather.
I’m still afraid to ask.
Later that night, we’re all sitting around the living room.
Half-eaten food is everywhere.
A game no one is actually playing.
A movie playing that no one is watching.
And Mr. Pickles keeps moving closer to Luna.
I lean forward slightly. “Is anyone else seeing this?”
“It’s fine.” Ivy waves her hand. “Completely normal.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Nothing here is normal,” Violet says from beside me.
I tense as Mr. Pickles closes the distance, waiting for a fight to break out.
Instead, Luna looks up from where she’s curled on the floor.
Mr. Pickles curls up beside her like that was always his plan.
“He works fast.”
Violet’s fingers drift over Luna’s fur. “Or she does,” she says. Her voice softens. “Maybe she always knew what she was doing.”
Our gazes lock and hold.
Thank God she made the first move, even if it was stalking me without my knowledge.
We’d never be where we are if she hadn’t.
An hour later, Ivy stands, stretching. “We should probably head out.”
Mr. Pickles does not move.
“Guess I’ll have to pick him up,” Ivy says, moving toward him.
Chaos erupts instantly.
Hissing.
Claws.
Pure outrage.
“Okay, wow,” I say, backing up slightly.
“He’s very attached,” Sebastian mutters.
“No kidding.”
I watch as Ivy tries to scoop him up.
Fails.
Tries again.
Fails again.
“Why don’t you let them have a sleepover?” I say.
Everyone pauses.
Ivy looks at me. “You’re sure?”
I shrug. “Yeah. It seems... safer.”
She nods and backs away.
Mr. Pickles immediately curls back beside Luna.
Like he won.
Which… he did.
After they leave, the house settles again.
I glance at Mr. Pickles curled against Luna.
"He's moving a little fast."
Violet smiles. "No." She scratches behind Luna's ears. "He's just consistently aware of her location."
I groan. “Don’t.”
"What?" she asks innocently. "You started it."
I shake my head, unable to hide my smile. “Stalking really does run in the family.”