Page 38 of His to Keep
He looks down at his feet and back up at me. “Well, I won’t keep you.”
“Bye, Clint.” I flutter my fingers in the dumbest wave to ever exist. “Have a great first day.”
He grins. “It’s already off to a good start.”
Luckily, my hallway delay doesn’t derail the day. Nope, that honor belongs to Dr. Snider’s Bernedoodle puppy who made a break for it when she opened the door to leave for work.
Upside, Mouse only managed to make it two blocks before Dr. Snider caught up to him and wrangled him back home. People are a lot more understanding about having to wait when an adorable dog is the culprit.
By the end of my shift, I’m barely holding it together. I’m exhausted. I’m hungry. And I’m terrified.
It’s garbage.
The literal only thing I want is to scarf down a Hot Pocket, cuddle up in bed with Fefe for a bit, and sleep.
But if last night’s anything to go by, sleep is going to be hard to find. I got maybe three hours total last night. Every little noise set me off.
Who knows, maybe luck’ll be on my side, and I’ll be too worn out to stay awake cowering under the covers like a little kid hiding from the boogey man.
THIRTEEN
ELLIS
“Knock, knock,”I say as I open the front door and step into Atlas’s house.
“Why bother saying it if you aren’t gonna do it?” the man himself asks with a pointed glare.
“Be nice!” Nora hisses, smacking the back of her hand lightly against his stomach.
Atlas gives her a befuddled look. “I am being nice, Pip.”
She heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “Agree to disagree, my love.”
“Y’all are so damn cute.” I extend my arms outward, lifting the foil-covered baking sheet, still warm from the oven. “Made garlic butter cheese bombs… from scratch, mind you.”
“Oh, that sounds amazing.” Nora grabs the tray and bustles into the kitchen. “They will go perfect with my lasagna. I told Scarlet to bring dessert.”
Internally, I cringe, thinking of the shitshow dessert caused when we babysat last weekend.
We’ve texted a few times since then, mostly me checking in to make sure she’s safe. Swear to god, getting anything out of her is like pulling teeth. She’s all one-word responses, and I’ve about had it.
Worrying about Scarlet Armstrong is the last way I want to spend my time, and yet, it’s all I seem to do.
“Hopefully she brings a good fucking attitude.” Atlas crosses his arms, looking as grumpy as ever. I can only imagine how much it chaps his ass that Nora and Scarlet are best friends.
“Amen to that.” I nudge him with my elbow. “Now, where’s my dude?”
“You need to settle down and have your own,” Nora says. At the same time, Atlas tells me he's in his walker in the living room.
I ignore both of them and make a beeline straight to where James is playing on the rug. “E!” he babbles and I hoist him up into my arms. “E!”
“Holy shit! Did you guys hear that?” I whisper shout as he snuggles into me.
Nora laughs. “He’s just babbling.”
“No way.” I blow a raspberry against his neck. “My dude said my name.”
“The hell he did,” Atlas mutters.
