Chapter 15 Liza #2
“What are you doing all the way up here?” she asks me as she takes off her coat and sets her bag by the sofa.
“The guys seemed to think that you lost a bet and had to help Blue with his laundry. Well, that’s what Dime said.
Leo stayed quiet, and Flo said that seeing you two in the same space without wanting to kill each other is a sure sign of the apocalypse.
He told me the end is near, so I figured I should spend my last few hours doing what I love.
But Dutton’s not home yet, so that will have to wait. ”
“Don’t listen to the freshman,” Blue says, standing awkwardly in the center of the room, but trying his damnedest to make it look cool and natural.
“I’m just visiting Hazel,” I volunteer, proud of my brain for putting together a believable lie for once.
Bridgette’s face lights up at the mention of our favorite feline mama-to-be. “How is that sweet girl today?”
As if on cue, and as though she’s gunning for an Oscar, Hazel emerges from her napping spot in a basket full of blankets by the other recliner.
But her performance doesn’t end there. She struts across the room and winds herself around my legs before hopping onto the seat next to me and curling up into the world’s best impression of a cinnamon roll.
Bridgette claps her hands together like she’s just had the best idea and is dying to share it. “Oh, Blue, you should ask Liza for help with that castle you bought for Hazel and her babies. She’s a whiz at putting things together.”
My friend is not wrong. I happen to possess the coveted ability to assemble furniture without the burden of silly things like direction manuals. But something Bridgette said doesn’t make sense, so I eye Blue. “You told me it was a scratching post.”
Bridgette’s dainty laugh fills the air. “You already asked for her help? Smart man,” she surmises.
“It is a scratching post,” Blue says, turning toward me and then pointing to the row of boxes that span the length of the wall.
I don’t know how I missed them, but now I see they’re all labeled and the picture on the front shows a veritable cat paradise that likely includes about a thousand pieces and will cover half this room once it’s finished.
After giving Hazel a few chin scratches, I stand up and walk over to get a better look.
“It has two turrets, and wait—is that a waterfall?”
“You are correct on both counts,” Blue tells me. “It’s not actual water, of course. That would be wasteful. It’s that shiny crinkly stuff Hazel goes nuts for.”
“Do you realize how complicated this is? And how long it’s going to take to construct?”
Blue scratches the scruff on his chin. He doesn’t have a beard to go with his mustache, but he must have skipped shaving today.
Is it bad that I’m wondering if I’m going to like the feel of his stubble?
And that I am secretly praying there’s a hair salon emergency and Bridgette has to rush out of here to fix a bad color job so Blue and I can get to the good stuff?
“What I’m hearing is that you don’t think you’re up for the challenge,” Blue says, shrugging.
“I figured a civil engineering major wouldn’t be daunted by a cat tree, but maybe they don’t teach you the advanced stuff until senior year.
No biggie. There's a number on the box I can call to hire somebody to construct it and anchor it to the walls. But thanks for taking a look.”
I flip him off. “Of course I can put this together. And I can do it in half the time than some guy you hire off the cat tree website.”
“You really think you’re up for the challenge? Because I don’t mind hiring someone. Hazel’s not due for a few weeks yet, so I’m sure it’ll be done by the time the babies arrive. Did you see that cozy little alcove on the bottom? Tell me that doesn’t scream ‘kitten nursery’?”
I can’t help but laugh. He’s right, though.
It’s adorable. I don’t even want to think about how much it cost, because it doesn’t look cheap, but hopefully that means it’s a decent quality product and all the pieces and parts are included.
Not that I can’t improvise, because I totally can.
It’s just easier not to. And I have plans this afternoon.
Sexy plans. But first, I guess we’re doing a little construction project, at least until Bridgette leaves.
Blue rubs his hands together. “All right, should we get started? We can head into my room—”
“I thought you were putting it out here, along this wall?” Bridgette asks. “It’s probably easier to assemble it where you're going to put it, right?”
“Good thinking,” Blue says, frowning, and I feel his pain, not that we could really do much inside his room with Bridgette right out here, but still.
This is our only window of secret-sexy-time opportunity for the next week.
And we’re not just doing it for fun; it’s part of my study, and that basically makes it homework.
I wonder if we could reserve one of the quiet study rooms at the library.
I mean, this really is the definition of a partner project, so I think it counts.
And aren’t some of those rooms soundproof? Hmmm. I may have to look into that.
Half an hour later, we’ve pushed all the furniture out of the way, and the room is a landscape of cardboard, tiny plastic bags with all the parts labeled, and enough wood beams to build a shed.
Blue is paging through the directions, looking clueless.
“We don’t need those,” I tell him.
His brow furrows. “Didn’t know you were minoring in witchcraft.”
I smile down at him as I stand to reach another piece for the base. “It just comes naturally to me. I’m a born witch. Sometimes people abbreviate it to bitch. Not sure why.”
Blue bites back a laugh and I can tell he wants to say something teasing and playful, but he can't, because Bridgette is here. She’s not paying us a whole lot of attention, since she’s camped out on the couch with her laptop and a notebook, but it’s smarter for us to keep playing up the tension that’s always lingering between us.
We do not need anyone to suspect what we’re up to.
Not that we’ve had much of a chance to be up to anything, not since we were in my room Friday night. It’s funny how you can go years without having something, and your life doesn’t feel empty because you never got used to it in the first place. But then you have one taste and it’s game over.
“So, you’re sticking with the whole engineering thing?” Blue asks, sorting through a bag to find the right sized screw.
I’m still standing, and I’m a little tempted to kick him in the teeth for questioning my freaking career path, especially when I’m basically building this cat castle by myself, but instead, I settle for plucking the screw from the bag he’s been rooting through.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” I ask, dropping it into his open palm. “And yes, I’m going to be an engineer. It’s literally my major.”
Immediately, his hands go up. “And you’re obviously suited for it. I just figured witchcraft would be more lucrative. Sorry.”
“The health insurance is better in the mainstream job market,” I quip.
We fall silent for a few minutes, working to put this thing together.
It’s really adorable. I don’t know where he found it, but I feel like the initial pitch for the product was something along the lines of a six-year-old girl’s dream bedroom, but for cats.
It’s got built-in fairy lights and real shingles on the pointed roofs.
There’s even a tree swing hanging from ropes that reek of catnip.
I’m so locked in on finishing the moat that I don’t hear Dutton come upstairs until I hear Bridgette squeal with delight. By the time I look up from my project, they’re hard at work sucking each other’s face off.
“The fuck is all this?” he asks when he comes up for air and looks around the room.
“Hazel needs her own place, now that she’s gonna have a family of her own. And since you refuse to move out of your room and into Bridgette’s dorm, I had to improvise,” Blue explains. “It’s like one of those tiny houses.”
“This thing is bigger than a tiny house,” I assure him.
“Oh, if it’s for Hazel, I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he says, rubbing his fingers together to call for her. She’s made a nest for herself in one of the cardboard boxes, so Dutton has to make do with a few meows in lieu of cuddles.
“We’ve gotta leave in an hour,” he tells Blue. “You think you two will be done by then? And by the way, Liza, what the hell bet did you lose to have to spend the afternoon with this guy?”
“I’m here on Hazel’s behalf. And don’t worry, we’ll be done by the time you guys have to leave.”
“How?” Blue asks, throwing his hands up. “I’m only on step three of the hammock. And there are ten steps!”
“If you’re not finished with that in forty-five minutes, I’m taking over. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m nearly finished with the rest of the project. I’ll just need a hand screwing the turrets on. But that will be one of the last things we do.”
“How in the—” Blue stops talking when he looks up at the structure I’ve been working on. “Holy shit. You used a spell, didn’t you?”
“You got me,” I deadpan. “I mixed up a potion and here we are. I definitely haven’t spent the last hour and a half working my ass off while you stressed over one tiny part.”
Bridgette shakes her head at us while Dutton reaches for her hands and pulls her up to her full height.
They kiss again because that’s what they do when they’re in the same room, then Dutton opens his door and ushers her inside.
“One hour, Halliday,” he calls as he follows his girlfriend into his bedroom.
“Same to you, dude. What are you two up to, anyway?”