Smitten Kitten

chapter five

     CLEO IS TERRIBLE at keeping secrets, apparently.

     "So you're into watching people when they sleep now, is it?"

     I choke on my wine, palm rushing to cover my mouth as a little red dribbles from the corner. "What?"

     "Remember when I told you that Noel's not gonna sue you? Well, if you keep it up, you're gonna have a sexual harassment lawsuit on your hands, and I can't help you."

     Despite her words of warning, there's a wicked glint of amusement in Natalya's mint green eyes as she toys with the straw of her Long Island Iced Tea.

     I'm still clearing my throat, clutching at my chest as I ignore the looks of concern our waiter is shooting in my direction. Nat takes another sip of her drink, unconcerned with my oncoming death.

     "I did not sexually harass him, oh my god. Did he actually say that? Seriously?"

     Those narrowed, dark brown eyes flash in my mind

     Nat chuckles, nodding, and tucks a golden blonde strand of hair behind her ear. "According to Mark, he insisted you were watching him while he was sleeping. Something about waking up with a blanket and that he wasn't stupid, and that you're a total creep, basically. Keep it up and you can finally cross getting a restraining order off your bucket list."

     "That's a stupid thing to have on a bucket list, and I am not getting one."

     As my brows drop and lips purse, Nat's dissolving into cheeky laughter once again. It seems her temporary Bridezilla persona has lost to her instinctive obligation to delight in my pain, and I take another spiteful mouth of Merlot. Still, it's one of the rare moments that her shoulders have finally relaxed under her pale blue blouse in months.

     And everyone always tries to tell me that day-drinking is irresponsible.

     "I wasn't watching him, okay? I put a blanket over him when I got up to get a glass of water because I'm a kind and generous person. I'm practically a saint!" I insist to Nat's unsympathetic grin, and the wine almost jumps passed the rim as I shake my glass for emphasis. "A saint!"

     In the back of my mind, I'm reminded of my lingering presence crouched in front of his sleeping figure, along with Cleo's calculated feline glare. But there's no way that he could've known.

     Unless Noel's learned the ability to literally talk to his cat. Which, honestly, I can't even say I'd be surprised by.

     I mentally curse Cleo. Does sisters before misters mean nothing to her?

     "I'm just repeating what Mark told me. I told you to make nice, not get yourself arrested, Vika. Or should I say, arrested again," Nat says, snickering.

     "One time! You drunkenly swim around a fountain one time and no one will forget about it! And it was a misdemeanor, come on. You guys never let anything go."

     "Well, either way, you better keep your ass out of prison until the wedding because we've already paid for your dinner and of course, for Mark's family, no expense could be spared." She rolls her eyes.

     I lean forward with my elbows against the patio table, chin tucked in the heels of my palms."God, I still can't believe you're actually getting married."

     The gravity of my words weighs on my shoulders, and I draw a deep breath, nose pinching. I can't ignore how heavy my chest feels.

     "Excuse you, I'll have you know many men have tried to take me off the market for years, okay?" she says, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "I'm some premium wife material."