After one whiff, the saleslady gave me a dirty look, and Maggie told her off. “He just saved three kittens’ lives, lady. Now show me the kitten food.” As the saleslady led her to the food section, Maggie looked over her shoulder and winked at me.
And my heart skipped. Then it skipped again when I watched her, the Goddess in cowboy boots with the long blonde hair, walk away. Damn.
Despite the fact that I’m not following the romance novel blueprint, the date can’t be considered a total failure. Focusing on the kittens helps me form sentences. Weirdly, in the dumpster I’d almost felt normal again. Physically though, I’m a mess. I have to get showered. Tucker’s never going to believe this. Actually, he may when he smells his car. I hope the kittens don’t rip the upholstery.
The money I planned on spending at Roberto’s ends up in the register at the pet store. Maggie thanks me again, and when we leave, the saleslady locks the doors behind us. I carry the bags to the car and throw them in the trunk.
We look at each other and smile, then I turn away. I can’t look at her for too long. We walk to our respective sides of the car.
Maggie uses her phone flashlight to peek into the window. “Where are those little guys? I don’t want them to escape.”
I point to the back window. “There.” The three of them sit behind the back seat, looking out. “They’re yelling at us.” I can’t hear through the window but I see their little mouths moving.
“I bet they are hungry,” she says. “Let’s get our babies home.”
She’s as adorable as the damn kittens. When she gets in her side, Vomit Eater jumps onto her lap. I don’t blame him.
“Everyone set?” I ask, mimicking my father. “If you have to use the bathroom, go now. We’re not stopping.”
Maggie laughs at my little joke. I respond with a smile that stays plastered on my face the entire ride back to Sheridan.
When I leave her, the pet store bags, the carrier crate, and the kittens in room three, I’m afraid the night is over and the dream is gone. I run upstairs to shower as fast as I can, scrubbing off the dumpster grime. When I throw on my cargo shorts and T-shirt, I’m instantly comfortable. This may be the strangest date ever, but Roberto’s would have been a nightmare. No way I’d be as smooth as the guys in the romance books. Not with Maggie.
I run back down to her room and knock. “It’s me.” The kittens’ meows wail into the hallway. Maggie yells for me to come in.
Like every time I see her, she’s so pretty that I can’t believe she’s real. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing hot girl sweats, the snug and soft kind with a word over her amazing ass. I try to move my sight to safer places, but it lingers on her T-shirt. Again, her shirt is the hot girl kind, tight and fitted. I’m never going to make it through this night. “Wh…where’s Megan?”
She bends to grab a kitten, and instead of focusing on her ass, I look at the ceiling.
When she stands straight, she’s holding the black and white kitten out to me. “She went home with Ben for the weekend to meet his new niece. We have the place to ourselves.”
I take the kitten, happy to have something to do with my hands.
“Oh, watch out for Beyoncé. She peed on me while I was examining her.”
“Beyoncé?”
“Because she’s fabulous.”
I stifle a laugh and stroke Beyoncé. “What about the others?”
She points to the all-black one, currently clawing its way up her comforter. “That’s Mr. Fluffy Paws Timberlake.”
“Gotcha,” I add, as if this is the most normal conversation in the world. “And the vomit-eating mongrel?”
She smiles. “I left him for you to name since he’s your favorite.”
“Hmm.” I let Beyoncé run free and reach for the little devil. “Since you seem to be going with a music theme, how about ‘Elvis’?”
Maggie hums a sound of approval. “Elvis it is.”
I’m proud of myself for all of these words in a row. I’m almost being a normal person around her.
We set up the new carrier crate. Maggie convinces me they’re too cute to lock up, so we leave them free. But in an effort to control their craziness, we chase them around the room, protecting everything they try to break, fishing them out of the closets, sticking them in the litter boxes, and pulling them from under the bed. When they start running around the room in circles like psycho cats, Maggie wants to catch them. She’s afraid they’ll pee on the floor and Meg will flip out.
Chasing kittens gives me a reprieve from conversation and time to get my vitals in order. At the same time, I’m able to be around Maggie, see her, hear her talk, and watch her. Once corralled into the crate, the kittens beg for freedom with their tiny cries. We don’t give in. With food and water, they settle down then pass out piled on top of each other.
Maggie twists her ponytail off her neck with one hand and fans herself with the other.
I’m distracted by the sight—the flush of her cheeks, the curve of her exposed neck, the hair pulled up and hanging over her shoulders. I let out a frustrated sigh, watching her and thinking of places I’d like to kiss her.
She mistakes my sigh as one of exhaustion instead of admiration. “Parenting is hard work. We make a good team.”
I hold up my hand, and she high fives me. After the slap of the contact, she weaves her fingers through mine. Our hands fall between us, entwined. I can feel the energy flow from her touch.
Our eyes meet. I can’t talk. She opens her mouth to say something, but a knock on the door stops her.
Maggie lets go of my hand and opens the door to Chase and Juliet. As soon as she walks in, Juliet runs to the crate and wakes up the little monsters. “They’re so cute! Are you keeping them?”
Chase acknowledges me with a grunt. “Kittens, huh? Is this the new thing instead of flowers?”
I shake my head. “They’re not from me. We found them in the dumpster behind the dining hall.”
Juliet pulls away from the crate. “Ew.”
Maggie opens it and pulls out a sleepy Fluffy Paws Timberlake. The kitten flops over her palm like dead weight. “We cleaned them up. Dave saved them, and we cleaned him up too. No worries.” She snuggles the cat to her nose and sniffs it. “Good as new.”
Juliet looks to Chase. “Can I have one for the apartment?” Meg told me that Juliet spends a lot of time at Chase’s place in the city.
We all look to Chase, who shrugs. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.”
Juliet claps, blows him a kiss, and turns to Maggie. “What are their names?”
Maggie points to each in turn. “Beyoncé, Mr. Fluffy Paws Timberlake, and Elvis.” As Juliet studies the kittens, I secretly hope she doesn’t take Elvis.
She reaches for the black and white one. “We definitely want Beyoncé.”
“Chase?” Maggie asks.
“Fine by me.”
The girls play with the groggy kittens, and Chase waves me to the other side of the room. He leans close, turning his back to the girls. “So Maggie, huh?”
“Um, yeah?”
His eyes laser into mine. “You know she’s been through a lot this year. Frank. Winston.”
I hold his stare. He doesn’t back off, but neither do I. “Yep.”
I size him up when he stands taller. My height, maybe a little bulkier. I have a better shot at taking him than Ben though.
“She’s like our little sister. Don’t screw with her, Dave. Seriously, if you’re only out to get laid, she’s not your girl.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” I try to shove past him and move toward the girls.
He holds up a hand to stop me. “Just know that we all look out for each other down here. We’re family.”
Juliet and Maggie decide that Beyoncé should stay with her siblings until she gets cleared by the shelter. When Chase and Juliet leave, Maggie catches the dirty look I give him.
She shuts the door behind them. “He giving yo
u a hard time?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“They’re a bit overprotective of me. Especially after what happened with Winston.”
I don’t think it’s fair that because Winston’s an idiot, Maggie will be forced to have all future men screened by the basement crew, but I don’t say that. “I have this horrible reputation of being some kind of man-slut, and he felt the need to protect your honor. It’s good.”
She scoots onto her bed, wiggling so her back is against the wall. She pats the space next to her. “Sit.”
I don’t move. I can’t. Maggie’s on a bed asking me to sit with her. I think I’ve had this dream.
She waves her hand to get my attention. “Don’t zone out. You’re doing so great. Come on, sit.”
I scoot next to her and our shoulders touch. Neither of us moves away, but I’m forced to do my deep breathing exercises. In, out, in, out. “I… um….”
“You can do it. Keep talking,” she teases and rubs her shoulder against mine.
I look at her beauty mark, her eyes, her lips, and then return her smile. “I can’t believe I finally get to go on a date with you and end up in a dumpster.”
She laughs. “I can’t believe you wanted to go out with me at all. I didn’t think I registered on your radar.”
“If you only knew,” I murmur, looking straight ahead for something to focus on. Not only does she register on my radar, she’s the entire radar. There’s nobody else even blipping on the screen.
When I turn back to her, she’s watching me through her long lashes. Her sexy stare makes me half want to run away and half want to grab her cheeks and pull her in for a kiss. I do neither. Instead, I clear my throat and go for the topic change. “You work at the shelter, you’re studying to be a vet, and you feed the squirrels. You’re all about the animals.”
Her face lights up. “I am. Home is a farm in Delaware. We have mostly small animals—goats, chickens, but also a few horses.”
“Wait.” That hadn’t come up in my research-slash-cyberstalking. “You’re a farm girl?”
She pouts, but her eyes light up a bright blue color, like big round Christmas lights. “Don’t make fun.”
I chuckle. “Fun? No, no. There are all these farm girl fantasies swirling in my head now.” I picture her in pigtails with a checkered shirt and short shorts. Damn.
She nudges me with her shoulder. “Well, you’re a rock star, so that does things to my head too.”
Her calling me a rock star embarrasses me. I’m no star. I only go on stage and sing. “I just do covers. Not the real deal, panty-dropping stuff.”
“I don’t know about that. Your voice is amazing.”
People have told me that before, but hearing it from her lips sounds different. I look around the room, unsure how to handle her compliment. With everything in me, I want to keep the conversation going normally. She talks, I talk, she talks, I talk. It’s my turn. “Despite my awkwardness around you, I like to perform.”
“What awkwardness? Look how great we’re doing, even with you out of the dumpster. I must be losing my allure.”
“You’re not. Trust me. But as the official baby daddy here, I have to man up and take care of you all.”
When she smiles, a warm blush colors her cheeks. She pulls her ponytail to the side with one hand then flings it back over her shoulder. That hair looks so soft, and she always makes it look different. I wonder what it would be like to fist it in my hand.
Our eyes meet. “How do you know about my squirrel?”
It takes a second for me to process her question. “Um, squirrel?”
She tilts her head and furrows her brow. I wait for the curious expression on her face to disappear, hoping to let the question drift away.
She remembers though. “You said before I feed the squirrels. How do you know? I never tell people. Megan thinks I’m a freak who eats nuts all the time.”
“I…I saw you.” My voice cracks. I don’t want to tell her about watching her feed the squirrel at the library. I’d hate for her to think I’m dangerous or some kind of stalker, especially after what happened to Frank. Juliet’s roommate, Pooja, had a crazy, abusive ex who stormed the dorm in an attempt to kidnap her. He had Juliet and Pooja at gunpoint until Frank and Ben busted in.
“Okay, relax.” Maggie’s voice brings me back to her, away from November. “You’re tensing up.”
I smile and try eye contact, then quickly look away.
“So let’s stay on easy topics. Why did you come to NJU, Dave?”
I look at her desk as I talk. “Tucker, my roommate—”
“The one with the car?”
“Yeah. He’s my cousin. He plays drums in the band. He decided that we should come here, since it was close to the city and the shore for gigs, and to piss off our parents.”
Maggie chuckles. “Why’d it piss them off?”
“They’re upstate New York people. My father is a professor at Cornell, and my mother and uncle are state senators. They’d have preferred Cornell.”
“Wow. Fancy,” she says. “I’ve never met a senator.”
“They’re just state senators. Not very fancy.”
“Well to a farm girl from Delaware, that sounds fancy. What’s your dad a professor of?”
I sigh. “Latin. My parents are brilliant. It’s annoying.” I keep talking so she doesn’t ask more about them. “Anyway, they wanted Tuck and me to go Ivy League, but neither of us had the grades or desire. I tried to get into Juilliard, but that didn’t happen.”
“Juilliard? That’s intense.”
“Yeah. I’m not good at intense, especially when it comes to school. I do what I need to do to get by and keep my parents happy. I didn’t think Juilliard would like that attitude. And I couldn’t take a space from someone who had dreamed of getting in.”
I don’t tell Maggie that my parents pulled strings to get me in and I gave up on my application when I saw the admission requirements. “Anyway, then the band decided to stay together. Bryce, Tommy, Chip, they’re in the city. Most of our gigs are on the Jersey Shore, but we’re expanding a little.”
“I saw you at the Beach Bum. I went with Frank, Meg, and Win. Frank was a huge fan. When he found out you lived upstairs, he was so excited…” Her voice tapers off. Frank’s a tough topic for everyone at NJU, but even tougher for Sheridan people, especially his basement neighbors.
I recall the day last fall when Frank knocked on my door. I recognized him from our gigs when he introduced himself and said how much he enjoyed The Randoms. His excitement at being our fan was one of the coolest things I’d ever experienced. When he saw the concert stubs on my dorm room wall, we talked about bands and music for hours. “He seemed like a great guy.”
A thoughtful silence surrounds us until she whispers, “Dave?”
I twist my hands in my lap, looking down at them. “Hmm?”
“Are you sorry we went out tonight?”
I shake my head, studying the calluses on the tips of my fingers from strumming the guitar.
“Then why aren’t you looking at me?”
My pulse quickens at her soft tone. I should be able to play this cool, to think of something flirty or funny to say, but I can’t. Not with her. I go with the truth. “Because I like talking to you, and if I look at you, I’ll start to stutter.”
She hesitates, but I don’t look up at her, embarrassed that I admitted she frazzles me. “Can’t you think of me like one of the girls from upstairs? You talk to them. I’m just like any other girl.”
Tuck had said the same thing. Just like any other girl. Lyrics scramble through my mind. I peek at her and grin. “You’re nothing like the girls I know. You’re not like any other girl. Not to me.”
When her gaze meets mine, I make an effort to stay focused on her big, blue eyes. She tilts her head for a second, and I think she’s going to ask me to leave. I wouldn’t blame her if I freaked her out.
“About my squirrel. Do you ever feed him? Som
etimes there are nuts that I didn’t put there.”
“Oh, um, the squirrel.” I puff out a breath and run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I check on him once in a while. I hope you don’t mind.”
In response, she shifts closer and weaves an arm under mine, linking us. “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Before I can figure out what to do next, she leans in and kisses my cheek.
Maggie kissed me, and I didn’t realize it was happening. Although she’d already scooted away, I still feel her lips. Warm, sticky from whatever lip stuff she wears, the spot where she kissed me pulses hot, like she branded me.
Maggie kissed me.
A few weeks ago, I thought I’d never have the chance to smell her strawberry scented hair again. A few hours ago, I thought I’d never be able to form a sentence around her. Now, a few seconds ago, she kissed me. On her bed. Granted it wasn’t a kiss kiss, like an “I want you” kiss. It was a thank you kiss. But now I know she likes me. The thought scares me to death.
I shake my head to clear it. I don’t know what to say or what to do. With any other girl, I’d banter, tease, touch, and flirt. With Maggie, all I can think about is how I’m going to mess this up. I blurt out, “Do you think you can handle the kittens?”
She sits up straight. “Yeah, but—”
“I better go.” I jump off the bed and move to the door.
She follows. “Okay, but you know this date isn’t over, right?” Her hot girl sweats hug her hips when she walks past me and opens the door.
“Not over?”
She spins to look at me, her eyes bright and playful. I force myself to focus on them and not her chest almost touching mine. The spot on my cheek where she kissed me throbs to the same beat as my heart.
“The shelter? Tomorrow?”
“Oh, right! The cats.” I exhale. “The shelter.”
“Will Tucker let you keep the car?”
She opens the door wider and I step into the hallway. “I can convince him.” Or beat the shit out of him until he lets me have it. “What time?”
“They open at nine on Saturdays.”
With a little distance between us, I breathe easier. “I’ll knock on your door around then.”
She Wants It All: Book Three of the Sheridan Hall Series Page 5