Page 31 of Cat’s Guide To Romance

I saw the same thing at the grocery store. I took two boxes from his hands, and he looked at me like I’d committed a crime. He complains about being overwhelmed, but the moment anyone tries to take something off his plate, he scrambles to grab it back. If Sparkle believes everything is his responsibility, of course, there isn’t room for romance. Which means showing up at his job tonight is probably a terrible idea. I hate when Lars is right.

Lucien: Fine.

Lars: Fine what?

Lucien: I won’t go to Flutter and Fangs tonight.

Ryan: Holy shit.

Lars: Did you fall off the roof and hit your head?

Lucien: I hate both of you.

Ryan: You love us.

Lucien: Debatable.

I sigh and roll onto my back, staring up at the darkening sky. This is ridiculous. I’m a higher demon. I’ve lived for centuries. I’ve traveled between realms. I run one of the best supernatural clubs in the area. I can teleport across the world with a snap of my fingers. And apparently I need a wolf shifter and a vampire to explain why showing up uninvited at my crush’s strip club immediately after spying on his family dinner is a bad idea. When I phrase it like that, I suppose it does sound a little questionable.

My phone buzzes again.

Lars: Go home.

Ryan: Yeah. Let the kitty breathe.

Lucien: I hate when you make sense.

Lars: See him tomorrow at the bakery.

Lucien: That’s different?

Lars: YES.

Ryan: He already knows you go there now. And you literally told him you’ll see him tomorrow.

Lucien: Excellent point.

Lars: And if he isn’t there, you DO NOT hunt him down.

Lucien: Define hunt.

Lars: LUCIEN!

Ryan: I’m crying lmao.

I grin and tuck my phone against my chest. Fine. Tomorrow morning. Same time. Same place as the last couple of mornings. And if Sparkle isn’t there, I’ll eat my breakfast like a perfectly normal demon and go home. Easy.

Inside the house, another burst of laughter reaches me. I roll back onto my stomach and peek over the edge one last time. Sparkle laughs so hard his ears flattened against his hair. One of the twins has her arm around his shoulders while Ferris hangs off his other side. His mother stands behind him with her hands resting on his shoulders.

His father isn’t smiling, but fuck him. Everyone else is having fun.

For all the loneliness I sensed pouring off Sparkle when we met, he is loved. Deeply. Messily. Loudly. Maybe what he needs isn’t someone to save him from any of this. Maybe he needs someone who asks what Sparkle wants and makes him sit his pretty ass down once in a while. I can do that. But not tonight. Tonight, I can give him what he actually asked me for. Space.

Fuck, romance is difficult.

I push myself onto my knees and immediately groan when my neck protests. How long have I been on this fucking roof?

Tomorrow, I won’t mention the pendant. I won’t mention his father or that he’s moving out, and I definitely won’t mention that I spent hours lying on his roof like some lovesick gargoyle.