Page 152 of No Need to Run
Sebastian watches the way a man checks locks before bed—quietly, thoroughly, looking for weaknesses.
That’s fine.
Let him look.
The only weakness I have is sitting across the room.
“I think she likes you,” Ivy says to me, reaching down to stroke Luna’s back.
“She likes anyone who isn’t trying to escape down the stairs,” Drew says.
“That happened one time.”
He raises a brow. “She tried to kill me.”
Luna lifts her head, blinking sleepily, then settles against me again.
I smooth my fingers over her fur, keeping my tone calm. “She was making an impression.”
“Mission accomplished,” he mutters.
I smile faintly.
Across the room, Mr. Pickles stands.
Everyone notices.
The room seems to hold its breath as he approaches in that slow, deliberate way cats have when they want everyone to know they’re in charge.
Ivy straightens. “Oh my God. Don’t be weird.”
“That’s not helpful,” Drew says.
Mr. Pickles ignores both of them.
He stops directly in front of me, staring up at Luna.
Luna lifts her head again. Watches him back.
No puffing. No hissing.
Interesting.
Mr. Pickles leans in.
Sniffs once.
Then, to my surprise, he brushes lightly against my leg before sitting down beside the couch like this is his decision, his arrangement, his household, and he is generously allowing it.
I look at Drew.
He looks baffled. “That cat hates everyone. Except you... and now he seems to be warming toward Luna.”
I glance down at Mr. Pickles, who is very deliberately not looking at Drew.
“Maybe he just has standards.”
Ivy laughs. “That’s exactly it.”
