Page 24 of Feline Good

Oh, they’d probably done it while I was sleeping off that whiskey.

Reminding herself to thank them later, she sent Asher a smile across the bar, where he stood stacking clean glasses. August worked alongside him, restocking the coolers with beer. She had tried to help, but between the two of them, they seemed capable of handling everything without her supervision. They had shoved her out of the way so many times, she’d given up trying to offer assistance. Amir had disappeared to who knew where, and Maya could almost say she was thankful. Every time their gazes met, his words would float through her mind like a warm breeze, and it wasn’t just her cheeks that would flush. His every look seemed calculated, challenging her to give him a sign saying take me now.

Maya would be damned if she said she hadn’t thought about it. Every single one of them was handsome, and August had proven he was sweet and caring, while Asher was more flirty and... fun. However, beneath the casual exterior the two of them carried, she suspected they still struggled to adapt to the drastic change they’d gone through; there was more to them than what they showed her.

She was curious, but you know what they said about curiosity and cats…

Still, she was dying to learn more about them. It was almost as if a black cloud followed over their shoulders, especially Asher. She was still curious about the conversation she’d overheard in the library. Maya understood their secret melancholy; she couldn’t imagine what it was like to have your whole life ripped from you, only to be thrown into servitude as a fucking cat for a over a decade, unable to control a damned thing. She shivered at the mere prospect.

Guilt swam through her like a lazy current, and she approached the bar once more, leaning across it to grab August’s hand and raised her voice. “Are you sure this is okay? You’ve already done so much for me.” Even against your will. Maya hid a grimace at the thought with a soft smile.

Brunette waves tickled his jawline as he shook his head. “No, no. I promise, this is perfect for us.” He waggled a finger between him and Asher. “We need the human contact. It’s been, what...” turning to Asher, he redirected the question. “Fifteen years since we’ve spoken to anyone but each other?”

Asher nodded. “Well... that and the bank teller who let me in the box.”

Maya studied them for a long moment, reading the truth in their body language and eyes: they wanted to do this. Running a hand through her blonde hair, she couldn’t help but add, “Okay, if you’re sure. I don’t want you to think I’m—”

“Taking advantage of us?” Asher interrupted with a suggestive smirk and a wink. “Inine, if you wanted to take advantage of us, I can think of plenty of other ways we would happily oblige.”

She flushed, waving off his comment before August clarified.

“Besides, we have a job for you.”

An elegant brow rose high in response to his statement. “Is that so?” Cocking her hip to the side, she placed her hand there to accentuate her attitude. “Do tell.”

August grinned at her sass. “You, little seer, are going to take a night off, go upstairs, and weave us some answers.”

“Oh, that’s all?” Disappointment colored her tone before she could mask it. Secretly, she had looked forward to spending the evening with them behind the bar. Their banter was a source of constant amusement, and Maya didn’t necessarily hate the flirting, either.

Asher’s lips tilted in a crooked, knowing smile. Setting the glass he’d been polishing down, he vaulted over the bar top with supernatural speed, and landed with an elegance only a cat could achieve. So struck by his fluid movements, Maya couldn’t even move as he placed a finger under her chin and lifted until he stared deep into her eyes. The stares of the patrons around them bored into her tiny frame, and she blushed, even as she was captivated once again by the Mediterranean teal in his almost crystal eyes. “I know you wanted to have fun with us, hayaati, but if you’re patient, maybe we can find a way to entertain you later.”

Maya almost found herself nodding, but she caught and stopped the motion before she could give them the right idea. Wrong. Wrong idea.

Cursing their good looks, velvet voices, and whatever connection they seemed to have, she cleared her throat and stepped away. When disappointment flashed across his face for just a second, she wished she could take it all back. But she forced out her next words anyway. “That’s okay. I do just fine on my own. I’ll update the bar’s website and Facebook page and then get to work upstairs. If you need anything…” Maya trailed off and waved a hand at the bar, “just come get me.”

Retreating upstairs like a fucking coward, she gritted her teeth, battling the emotions in herself with a fierce determination. When she clipped the chain to block off the top of the stairs from bar access and slammed the door shut, Maya cursed.

“What the fuck is your problem, huh? Why do you have to be such a bitch?” She mocked herself “‘I do just fine on my own.’ Whatever.”

Shaking her head at her own obstinacy, resolute in keeping her hard-won independence, she walked across the small expanse of her living room to the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of water, she returned to her second favorite place, besides behind the bar. Her loom.

Maya's half finished project stretched taut across the beams of her loom, the beautiful colors a mirage of red, black, and gold. Her current project was one that showcased her cat lady status. Or it had... since she was no longer an owner of three cats but three very, very hot men. Wait— owner?

Maya didn't own them. Though she couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat when she thought about it. Not owning them like property...but holding a claim over them. For all three of them to be hers, and hers alone. The heady thought left her breathless.

Focus Maya, dammit!

With a deep sigh, she reined in her inappropriate thoughts, and as the bar music began downstairs, she unfolded the back beam, stretching it to its full length so she could begin working. As she looked down at her design, holding the wooden boat in her hand, she couldn't help but laugh. It's like something was pressing her to pay closer attention to her cats all along.

Black intertwined with the gold threads to depict the tails of three cat statues— egyptian style, in homage to her heritage. The week she had decided to start this particular pattern, she’d been feeling rather melancholy, and her parents had been on her mind. The idea had popped into her head when she’d tapped the cat statue that day. She'd ordered the required threads online during a slow hour and started almost immediately. That was weeks ago.

Maya refamiliarized herself with the treadles, the pedals on the floor that pulled each shaft into position to lift the connected threads. From there, she would slide the boat through the shed, or the opening between layers, throwing the thread across. Then she would pull the reed forward, which compacted the thread into the pattern. And back and forth she went.

Older looms could be very noisy, the smack of the treadles loud against the stacco crank of the reed. However, Maya had dropped a pretty penny on the one that she used. Only a few years old, it was much quieter, but the thumping music from below also helped mask the sounds of her work.

Hopefully, in the end, the three black cat statues she envisioned would be displayed on a golden cloth background, with red embellishments in each corner. Those, she had to hand sew herself while the tapestry was still on the loom. Those took the most time. Thankfully, she'd completed the top two a few weeks ago, so now it was just the monotonous work of throwing the boat, pulling the reed, and switching pedals.

Maya planned for this one to hang behind the bar. She did have a theme after all, and it matched Pharoah perfectly.