Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
EMBER
“Iknow you’re always hungry,” I say as I bend down, placing the bowls of cat food on the mat and stroking Fidget as the little thing fights her way through the horde.
“Each time I come round, I swear you have a new cat,” a deep voice says, making me jump.
“Goodness, Flint, don’t you know how to knock?” I place my hand on my chest as I turn to face him.
“I haven’t knocked in ten years, and suddenly I need to knock. If you have company, maybe you should lock the door next time.” He raises his brow, shooting me a look that says, last night scarred me for life.
“I will. Don’t worry. What are you doing here?” I fold my arms over my chest and lean against my kitchen counter.
“I came to check on Seraphina. I’m worried about her since her nan passed. All her friends are at college and…” He scratches his short greying beard. “I feel responsible for her, since my son ended things with her.”
“That wasn’t your fault. You can’t feel responsible for every girl your son dates and dumps. I’ll keep my eye on her.”
“I know. But I’ve invited her for Sunday dinner tomorrow. I thought you and Coleman could come too. It’s inappropriate and weird for her to just come and have dinner with me alone.”
“You’re inviting me and Drake for Sunday dinner?” Oh crap. Last night’s events flood back to me. Of course he thinks we’re dating.
“I’ve texted Coleman. He and his daughter are free. I thought, seeing as you’re dating the guy, I oughta get to know him a bit more outside of work.”
He’s already texted Drake? No. No. No. “I’m n—”
“It’s okay. I know I probably came off a little aggressive last night. I was just shocked, that’s all. It’s not every day I walk in and find my sister half naked with one of my men.” His smile reaches his eyes. “But it’s about time you met someone again. Dragon boy’s got heart.”
“But—”
“I hope he makes you happy.” He turns around and strides out of the kitchen.
“Flin—”
“Shall we say two o’clock for lunch?”
“Sure,” I squeak, picking up my phone and texting the girls in my group chat.
I need help.
Nikita McBossy: Finally, you’re admitting it.
Raine McNosy: You’ve needed help for a while.
Raine McNosy: Want the number of my therapist?
I need help with my closet.
Nikki McTrouble: Oh, well I can do retail therapy.
Raine McNosy: Is this like your clothes or do you mean you need a carpenter?
I need a new outfit. I literally have nothing to wear.
Nikita McBossy: What happened to all the leggings covered in cat hair?
Haha, I need something sexy
Nikki McTrouble: Do you have a date?
Sort of.
Nikki McTrouble: (scream emoji)
Raine McNosy: Need details
Nikita McBossy: It’s been 84 years, Titanic GIF
Funny
Nikki McTrouble: Have you waxed?
Raine McNosy: Make sure you check your chin. Maybe book in for a dermaplane too.
Nikita McBossy: No, do not do anything out of the ordinary with your skin. It will cause a breakout.
Nikita McBossy: I can get you booked in with my beautician next week.
The date’s tomorrow.
Raine McNosy: Where is he taking you?
Nikki McTrouble: More importantly, who is it?
It’s Drake Coleman, and it’s at Flint’s house.
Nikki McTrouble: You mean the DILF? Phoenix’s friend from England.
Nikita McBossy: Wait, you’re having a date at your brother’s house?
I know. Long story. But I want to look nice. So far he’s only seen me in my flying cat pyjama shorts and a pumpkin costume. And my frumpy school clothes every morning when he drops off his daughter.
Nikki McTrouble: I’m on my way. Meet you at the mall in twenty.
I sag against the counter. Cupid jumps up and brushes against my arm. “Well, congratulations, Cupid, you’ll inherit the house when I die of embarrassment at Sunday lunch.”
He meows as if agreeing with me.
A swarm of bees buzz in my belly, and I know going down this path with Drake is going to sting, but I may as well have some fun before I die alone.
Robbie, my ginger tabby, brushes up against my leg, reminding me I’m not alone. I have twelve cats to keep me company while I live out my miserable existence.
But when I’m with Drake, the buzzing isn’t bees at all—it’s fire. Heat. A dangerous flicker I shouldn’t feed.
I scratch Cupid behind the ears, forcing a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s just a fling. A very temporary, dragon-shifter kind of fling.”
Cupid blinks slowly, unimpressed. Robbie jumps onto the counter, knocking over my phone, and the group chat lights up again with fifty messages.
I groan. “Fine. Temporary fling or not, I need a killer outfit. Because if I’m going down in flames at Sunday lunch, I may as well look hot doing it.”