20. Flick #2
“Hm. Okay.” I give him a suspicious look.
Is he going to ask me on some sort of special date?
The trip to his family’s petting zoo was quite an adventure, and I would love to get out of town together again.
Even though I’m also busy, I’m starting to appreciate an afternoon with Sebastian as a solid excuse to drop everything for a while.
My stomach rumbles, distracting me from all other thoughts. While Sebastian feeds the cat and dishes up the lasagna, I pour us some sparkling water and put on a show that we watched a few episodes of while I was stuck in bed having my flare.
Rain pelts the living room windows as we cozy up on the couch. The moment is perfect, like all the pieces of the universe have finally slid into place. There’s nothing else I want to be doing, nowhere else I would rather be.
“I love eating in front of the TV.” Sebastian grins. “My mom never let us when I was a kid.”
“That surprises me. She seems so…”
“Unrestrained by social norms?”
“Exactly,” I laugh.
“She’s a bucket full of surprises.”
“You know, that’s the best part of being an adult.” I wink. “Getting to do all the things you couldn’t growing up.”
The thunderstorm picks up, while on the screen, one of the characters puts their cat on a leash. Instead of walking, the cat slumps over onto its side in the grass, refusing to move. Not even cat treats or wiggling a toy mouse in front of the animal can get it to budge an inch.
“I want to do that with Cat,” I announce.
“Put a leash on her so that she’ll turn into a cat loaf?”
“No,” I laugh. “Take her for walks.”
“She might like it. She’s still young enough that she could get used to the leash. It’ll take a while, though. Walking a cat is different from walking a dog.”
“Would you like that, Cat?” I turn to the kitten, who was on the couch when we came into the living room. Now, though, she’s nowhere to be seen.
“Guess we’re too loud for her,” Sebastian says.
“Sorry, Cat!” I yell. “Not sorry.” I turn to Sebastian. “She’s probably sleeping in one of my fake fur slippers. She discovered them yesterday and has been taking most of her naps there.”
“Smart kitty,” he chuckles. “How was your shift?” He turns away from the TV to fully look at me.
I hesitate as I pause the show. “It was…awkward. I feel like I’ve messed things up between Hannah and me, and the only way to fix it is by telling the truth. But telling the truth will also change things in a way I don’t want.”
“Did you ever plan on telling me about the pericarditis?”
I bite my lip. “I hadn’t told anyone, Sebastian. I was going to keep it to myself.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to take it personally. “I get it. I try to hide how much I work from my family. I just tell them I’m busy and leave it at that. I suppose it’s because I feel guilty, and if I explain exactly what I’m doing, they’ll try to talk me out of it.”
I guffaw. “And does that ever work?”
A slow grin slides across his face. “I’m here right now, aren’t I? I took a day off. My brother had at least some influence on me.”
“He seems like a good brother.” I push my plate away, stuffed to the max.
“He is. He was really happy to meet you. They all were. They keep—” He abruptly closes his mouth.
“What?”
“Oh. Nothing. Should we get back to the show?”
“No. What?” I gently poke him in the side. “What were you going to say?”
“They, uh…” He shrugs. “He says that I should lock it down with you.”
“Lock it down?” I sputter.
“Yeah.” He squints, and he sounds so awkward. “Like marriage.”
“Oh.”
“They’re silly. I know.” He clears his throat and restarts the show.
Marriage . The thought sends a flutter through my chest.
What if Sebastian and I did head down that road? It’s been years since I’ve entertained any thought that’s even remotely close to marriage. And Sebastian and I just started dating, but if we did…
Wow . I can’t even believe I’m thinking like this. It’s not me at all.
Then again, maybe it is. Maybe the Flick who only entertained flings and one-night stands was nothing but a facade crafted to hide the pain underneath it all, the pain caused from her boyfriend cheating on her back in New York.
It’s a startling realization—and one I don’t have time to think further on right now. Sebastian is pulling me against his chest, and as I snuggle into his arms and breathe deeply, I feel the most at peace that I have in a long time.
The show ends, and the countdown begins for the next episode, but I don’t feel like watching any more TV. I want to be pressed right up against Sebastian, just as we are now—except with fewer clothes.
“Let’s go to bed.” Standing, I take his hand and pull him through the living room and up the stairs.
It feels amazing to be clear of this last flare, to be able to walk and move—mostly—freely, and I want to take advantage of how good I’m feeling. Leading Sebastian into the bedroom, I kiss him long and hard.
He spins me around, his chest pressed to my back, hands roving around my waist and up my torso. I walk us forward, past the bathroom doorway, past the closet—and I stop.
“Cat?” I frown at my empty slippers.
“Huh?” Sebastian asks, voice husky against the back of my neck.
“She’s not in the closet.” Just to be sure, I push the door open farther and check each corner. No sign of her.
Getting on my hands and knees, I look under the bed. Still no kitten.
“Maybe she’s downstairs,” Sebastian suggests.
My heart rate picks up. “We would have seen her. She’s always meowing.”
A sick feeling takes over. Did she slip out the front door when Sebastian and I entered? No, she was in the kitchen with us. Sebastian fed her.
“It’s okay. We’ll find her.” Sebastian is already heading out the doorway. “I’ll check downstairs. You look in the bathroom.”
“Okay.” I hate the way my voice shakes. She’s just a cat.
But she’s my cat. And she’s also a helpless kitten. One who has already been lost once. If she?—
Gasping, I stop in the bathroom doorway. The window is open about six inches and my heart jumps in my chest. My first thought is the stalker, but then I remember I cracked it this morning to let in some fresh air. With everything going on I can’t believe I forgot.
Luckily, it’s not open enough for a person to crawl through, but it is enough for a kitten to get out. She must have noticed and squeezed through.
Rushing to the window, I yank it open the rest of the way. Rain sloshes into the bathroom, but I stick my head out, inspecting the trees next to the window. The branches scrape the bricks, which means that Cat could have easily climbed onto one of them and made her way to the ground.
“Sebastian!” Whirling around, I run downstairs. “I left the window open. She got outside!”
His eyes widen, but he nods calmly. “Okay. She couldn’t have gone far. Especially not in the rain. Let’s go find her.”
But I’m already throwing open the front door and rushing along the corner of the building. At the bushes that line the bottom floor, I get on my hands and knees in the damp earth and study every nook and cranny. I found Cat under a bush once, so maybe lightning will strike twice.
But she isn’t there. She isn’t anywhere in the yard.
Sebastian comes out with an umbrella. “Any luck?”
“No.” My voice cracks.
“We’ll find her. Let’s split up. Take the umbrella.”
I don’t have time to protest his chivalry. Grabbing the umbrella, I speed walk down the street, calling her name with every other step.
“Cat! Cat!” Hot tears fill my eyes, and for the first time, I feel ridiculous for not giving her a proper name. I must look like a terrible pet owner, calling for my kitten named Cat after stupidly leaving a window open.
She deserves so much more than that name. So much more than being lost in yet another storm. She deserves nothing less than being one hundred percent wanted and cherished.
I’ve treated her like a thorn in my side, and now she’s gone. Maybe forever.