Page 4 of Make Me Bee-lieve

With dinner out of the way, Bonnet and I head up to the rooftop to watch the sunset and take care of a few of the community garden tomato plants. When the apartment residents first started this garden, I rolled my eyes at it. Digging around in the dirt has never been my thing, but after a while, I found it meditative.

It also feels good to be needed, even if the ones who need me are my cat and a handful of plants. After watering some of the dry soil, I set the watering can down only to find someone sitting on the ledge on the other side of the roof. My heart lodges in my throat when I realize I’ve been whistling this entire time, which is embarrassing, but it doesn’t seem like the man has even noticed my presence.

“Hey, you okay?” I call over to him.

I don’t recognize the guy, in his baggy black t-shirt and wavy blond hair that catches in the wind. He looks over his shoulder and lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug, and I notice the sunlight reflect off a small piece of jewelry in his eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says. “Why?”

Bonnet hugs my legs in a figure-eight motion, and I lean over to pet her between the ears.

“No reason. Just curious,” I say. Visitors aren’t uncommon in the apartments, but they’re usually accompanied by a resident. Maybe he’s new. “Did you just move in?”

The man’s brows knit together. “No. Just visiting a friend,” he says. “He’ll be up soon.”

Right. I regard him with a small smile and glide my hand across Bonnet’s smooth fur. She purrs loudly as she loops through my legs again, and the man watches her, his head tilted to the side.

“Cute cat,” he says, and leans back on his heavily tattooed forearms that I can see peeking from underneath his rolled-up shirtsleeves. I don’t have any tattoos. Never even considered getting one, considering how skittish I am about pain. And needles. And the possibility of contracting diseases. I know that reputable tattoo shops in the city are hygienic, but nah. Tats would look ridiculous on me, I’d wager. They suit this guy, though.

I nod at the man and say, “Thanks. Her name’s Scotch Bonnet, but I just call her Bonnet. Sometimes Bonnie.”

The man opens his mouth to reply, but then the door to the roof swings open and another guy, one I also don’t recognize, steps through. This guy is broad-chested and muscular and has an enormous beard. He also doesn’t look like someone I’d want to fuck with. I scoop Bonnet up into my arms and cradle her as I walk back to the tomato plants, trying to look busy.

“Kyle, let’s go,” the man barks. And then the blond man—Kyle, apparently—jumps to his feet to join the bear-like man at the door. The new guy doesn’t even spare me a second glance before stepping back out through the door, but Kyle smiles at me, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the dying sunlight as he steps past us.

“Later, Bonnet,” he mutters before putting two fingers between her ears to scratch lightly. Then he scrubs a hand through his hair and meanders to the doorway lazily, clearly not in any hurry, before disappearing through it. Huh. That was different.

I look down at Bonnet and peck the top of her head. She purrs again as she squints up at me, like she’s just as confused by the interaction as I am. “Yeah, I don’t know, girl. That was weird.”

The next morning, as I’m going through my routine before work, my phone rings just as I step out of the shower. I throw a towel around my waist and pad across the living room, getting water everywhere. Dammit, who could be calling me at seven in the morning? It’s too early for this shit. When I grab my phone, I don’t even bother to check the caller ID, too stressed out by the fact that I’m practically naked and soaking my apartment’s carpeting just to get to the dang thing.

“Hello?” I ask in a clipped voice.

“Hey, brother. Haven’t had your coffee yet, I guess?” Elvis’s voice asks from the other end. He sounds … surprisingly awake and cheerful. Stifling a groan, I stalk over to one of the kitchen chairs and slump down onto it.

“Most people don’t call before nine, Elvis,” I say. Bonnet trots into the room, hugs my bare, damp calves, and then has the audacity to sneer up at me like I forced her to get herself wet. “What do you want?”

Elvis snorts. “A little rude, don’t you think?”

“Rude is calling at the asscrack of dawn. Get on with it, El.”

There’s a long pause on the other end. Long enough that I wonder if the call dropped.

Then Elvis clears his throat and says, “So, I need you to come to the bee-keeping guild meeting with me tonight.”

I blink. Okay. Whatever I was expecting him to ask for, it definitely wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, what? I must still be groggy and in need of caffeine, because I thought you just asked me to come with you to a beekeepers’ guild meeting,” I say as I hop up off the chair and make my way over to the coffeemaker to get it set up.

“Yeah, I did,” he says, followed by a sigh. “Sorry, man. I know you don’t like bees and shit, but I really need you to do this for me. I have no one else to ask, and you’re smart. Like, really smart. I figure if anyone could pick this stuff up fast, it’d be you.”

I know what that means in Elvis speak. It means “I actually asked everyone else I know, and they all said no, so you’re my last resort.”

Scooping the coffee into one of the filters, I look down at Bonnet and quirk an eyebrow. She tilts her head at me. “Yeah, still not following. Why am I going with you to your club meeting? And for the record, it’s not that I hate bees, it’s that I dislike all insects. I don’t have it out for bees in particular.”

Elvis chuckles on the other end, but he sounds nervous. “Yeah, so there’s this girl I’m really into, right?”

I roll my eyes and shove the filter into the coffeemaker, then press the button. Within seconds, the machine fires to life, and the soothing aroma of coffee permeates the room. Like magic, I begin to feel like a normal human being again. “There’s always a girl, but go on.”

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