Page 26 of The Girlfriend Clause
“I want you to.”
It was just tea, after all.
Right?
I turned toward the entry, and he fell into step behind me.
*
The light in the hallway was on, its yellow glow flattening everything it touched. The sound of roadworks carried through the back wall. I paused for a second, with my key in the lock.
This was fine. Tea was… polite.
Normal.
The lock clicked, and I pushed the door open a crack, then glanced back at Liam. He gave me a small smile.
A tiny bundle of black-and-white fur immediately launched itself between my ankles like a greyhound spotting a rabbit.
Oh God, notnow.
“Mr. Darcy!”
I lunged after him as he skidded frantically on the ceramic hallway tiles, darting left and then right.
Shit—we’d shut the main doors, hadn’t we? If we kept Mr. Darcy inside the building, we’d be all right. If he made it onto Battersea Rise—
But Liam had already disappeared down the stairwell as if he retrieved runaway cats for a living. I dropped my handbag and ran after them.
By the time I reached the top of the stairs, he was already coming back up, one arm pinned around the cat’s middle, the other trying—and failing—to control a back leg pedaling into thin air.
Mr. Darcy mewed, thin and pathetic.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “He—he’s a bit—”
“He’s fine.” Liam adjusted his grip, his mouth a firm line.
The cat didn’t look fine.
Nor did Liam.
He moved Mr. Darcy away from his chest. The cat looked at me and back to Liam, confused.
“I—ah—you’re holding him like a football.”
“Surprisingly wiry.” Liam was looking at Mr. Darcy with a frown.
“Let’s just—um… go in, shall we?” I pushed the door and gestured for them to go ahead. Mr. Darcy twisted, his claws snagging against the fabric of Liam’s T-shirt.
“Where do you want him?”
“Bedroom, please. His blanket’s in there. End of the hallway.”
The bedroom was dim, the blinds still closed. I grabbed the folded blanket from the bed.
“Okay,” I said, my pulse slowing. “Can you just—hold him still?”
“Right. Yes.”
