Page 16 of The Beat Match

She paused on her apartment stairs, paranoia clamping her fingers around her phone. Wes had agreed to her loan easily. So easily he could have had an ulterior motive. He wasn’t the favor-asking sort. He was a planner who mostly relied on himself. “What, pray tell, might this favor be?”

“I need you to bunny sit.”

She scanned the walls for a clue to decipher the odd request. All she saw was flaking white paint, a ripped Honda-for-sale flyer, and a bunch of skid marks. “Is ‘bunny sit’ code for some weird new-age meditation because you’ve spent thousands on a life coach who’s promised to teach you the art of having fun, but you’ve realized he’s a quack who looks like a bunny and you need someone to distract him while you escape? Or, oh—is it some kind of kinky sex thing?”

She almost swallowed her tongue. She and Wes didn’t joke about sex. Innuendo wasn’t part of their repartee. Even worse was the sharp clench of her thighs at a sudden image: Wes hovering over her, one of his large hands braced by her head, the other…

Nope. She shook her head, unnerved. Weston was like a brother. An annoying one at that. Her steamy Falcon dreams had usurped her mind.

A strangled cough rattled through the line. “I’m talking about an actual rabbit, Squirrel. I need you to watch it for me.”

“What’s a rabbit-squirrel? If you’ve been experimenting on animals in some secret underground laboratory in your offices, I’ll have no choice but to send out a bat signal and come down on your ass. You know my stance on animal testing.”

The line was dead silent, but she pictured him cursing or banging his head on a wall. A better visual than him dragging his hand up…ugh. She blinked repeatedly.

“I have a rabbit,” he said, the fact absurd enough to focus her uncooperative brain. “A bunny rabbit that needs watching. His name is Felix. Your name is Squirrel.”

“My name isn’t Squirrel, Herbert.”

“Oh my god. You’re impossible.”

“Or amazing. I’d go with option two.”

Again with that deep laugh. “I don’t know why I bother with you.”

Pleased with Wes’s annoyance, and their quick detour away from innuendo land, she continued outside and slipped on sunglasses as the sun hit her face. “You bother because I’m the only one who doesn’t kiss your designer behind. And why exactly do you have a bunny?”

“It’s a neighbor’s. He’s heading out of town for a couple of days and asked me to look after it, but I have a last-minute meeting tonight. A dinner with an investor that will go late.”

“But you hate pets.”

“It’s a one-time favor.”

“So leave the rabbit-squirrel at home. Unless you’re worried he’ll chew through the cage with his mutant teeth and tear apart your pristine condo.” She hoofed it down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, the summer breeze ruffling her lace skirt. Exhaust mingled with the smell of street meat, followed by a whiff of curry, then a blast of cinnamon goodness. The city streets were a life-sized scratch-and-sniff book.

“As amusing as you are,” Wes said, “that’s not the problem. This rabbit has abandonment issues. He was rescued from an abusive home and can’t be left alone.”

“Abandonment issues.”

“That’s what I said.”

“And he can’t be left alone?”

“Did you accidentally stab yourself in the ear while scrapbooking?”

“No, but I might slip and stab you next time you’re over.” Or more likely add another page to her Weston Aldrich scrapbook. This favor was getting more bizarre by the second. “So what do you do with Felix during the day?”

“He comes to the office with me and stays with Marjory.”

Oh, man, this was too good. “Do you walk your rabbit-squirrel on a leash during your lunch break? Feed your new baby at your desk?”

“I’m going out,” he said, a growl to his voice. “I need you to take Felix for the night. In case you misunderstood, your answer should be a simple yes.”

“Not when I have plans tonight.” She was thankful he’d loaned her cash, but missing Falcon’s performance wasn’t up for discussion. And going out wasn’t only about cornering the elusive DJ. No matter how much time had passed, the anniversary of Leo’s death always flattened her. Not just the date. The lead-up, knowing it was approaching, a premonition of heartbreak ahead. Staying home alone, with or without a mentally disturbed bunny, wouldn’t do her any favors.

“You’ll have to cancel your plans,” Wes said, reprising his role as Captain Ego. Like his life was more important than everyone else’s.

Her carefree walk turned into an angry march. “I can’t.”