Page 39 of Cat’s Guide To Romance

This morning, I’m up at my normal time, but only because I want to be. There’s no list waiting for me. No errands. I don’t even work until tonight.

And still, when I walk into Wick’s with Beau, Gabe, and Lark, the first thing I do is look toward the table Lucien has taken over as his own.

Empty.

I join the line. Maybe he’s just late.

“Morning!” Wren calls from behind the counter.

“Morning!” I sing back, sliding into my usual chair. My tail curls around one of the legs while everyone settles around me. I look toward the door. Nothing.

Beau bumps his shoulder into mine.

“What?”

He smiles.

“You’re being weird.”

Beau’s smile grows, but he thankfully leaves me alone. We all start talking about my apartment instead. Lark found me a little table that fits perfectly beside my couch, and Gabe apparently has a lamp he thinks I’ll like. Beau wants to buy me something, but I’ve told him at least seventeen times that I don’t need anything else. The apartment is small. If everyone keeps giving me stuff, I’ll have to move again just to fit it all.

The bell over the bakery door jingles and my head snaps toward it. A witch I’ve seen a thousand times walks inside. When I turn back around, three pairs of eyes are watching me.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“We didn’t say anything,” Lark says.

“You didn’t have to.”

Wren approaches with our breakfast, and I scoot things around to make room. “Has Lucien been in yet?”

Silence. I slowly look up. Everyone smiles at me.

Beau wiggles in his seat. “Do you miss him?”

I grab my muffin and rip a chunk off. “I was curious because he’s been here every morning.”

“Not for a few days,” Wren says.

My fingers stop. “A few days?”

Wren shakes his head. “Last time I saw him was the morning you slept in. He came looking for you.”

Something warm spreads through my chest. “He did?” Why, oh why did that come out as a whisper?

“Yep. He waited for a few hours too. I told him you were probably going to be asleep for a while, but he hung around doing work on his phone. Eventually he gave up and left.”

“Has anyone heard from him?”

Wren shakes his head. “Not me.”

Lark reaches for his drink. “Maybe he’s busy.”

“For four days?” I say.

Lark raises an eyebrow.

“I’m just saying! He owns a club. How busy can he be?”