Page 16 of Totally Opposed

“I just never picked you for a cook.”

“My granny taught me. She’s the real cook of the family. Most of the time, I just follow her recipes and hope not to screw it up too badly, but before I left the UK, I had the shepherd’s pie down. Have you ever had it?”

He shakes his head.

“You should come try it, tell me what you think.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I feel my face start to warm. Did I seriously just ask Alan Beaker over for dinner? “You know, if you don’t have plans, no big deal. Duckie and Ian will be there, too. There is plenty, that’s all.” Oh my god, just stop.

“Sure, ummm, that would be great,” he replies, and I can’t stop the stupid smile from spreading across my face. Fuck, come on, I tell myself. Try to be cool.

***

We get to the door of Don’s apartment, and he pauses.

“If he says anything that offends you, I’m sorry,” he says, lowering his head.

“I’ve met Don, remember. Besides, I’m sure it will be fine. I’m not easily offended.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Noted, now can we go in, please? My fingers are starting to go numb.”

He pushes open the door, a hiss sounds from somewhere nearby, and Alan takes a step back. My chest is against his back, and he turns his head slightly towards me but doesn’t move.

“Demon on the loose,” he whispers, and I hold my position, even though his ass is practically pressed against my groin andthe warmth of him is sending a swarm of nerves over every inch of my skin. “Gramps, come grab your spawn so I can get to the kitchen,” he calls.

“Stop your fussin’. Precious ain’t no demon, she’s protecting her house is all. Did you get her treats?”

Alan finally takes a step forward again, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding, then follow him inside.

“Yes, I got her treats. You know Ryan, he lives next door. He offered to help carry these up,” Alan says, making a beeline down the hallway to the right and into what I assume is the kitchen.

“Hi, again,” I say, nodding as I walk in the same direction.

“You got those curtains yet?”

“No, sorry, they didn’t have any,” I lie and turn the corner to drop off the rest of Don’s groceries on the counter.

“I’ve got this. You can head home,” Alan says, unloading the bags.

“Just come round when you’re done. It will still be a while before dinner is ready.”

“Sounds good, and really, thanks again.”

“No worries,” I reply, walking back out to the living space. Precious leaps from Gramp’s arms and struts over. I freeze. Is she going to attack? I’m wearing training shorts from practice today, my legs are exposed. Shit, what do I do? I’m about to dash the door, but then Precious lowers her head, and instead of attacking me as I expect, like Alan said she does to him every time he visits, she rubs up against my leg purring, and then looks up at me like I’m her most favorite person in the world. Maybe it’s a ploy to get me to trust her, to bend down to pat her, and then she’ll attack my hand or my arm, or my face?

“Hmm, well ain’t that peculiar,” Gramps says while studying Precious.

“What is?”

“Looks like she likes ya, boy. Well, go on then, give her a pat.”

I lean down and nervously reach to brush my fingers over her back, but she nudges my hand with her face and purrs deeper.

“Oh, you’re a sweet kitty, aren’t you,” I say, and I scratch under her chin. She closes her eyes a little, sitting on the floor and arching her neck higher. I had cats back in the UK. They were not really mine, ferals that decided to claim me and my cousin because we would put milk out for them every night after mum would go to bed.

“Everything’s away—” Alan says, walking out into the living room, and then he stops. Precious stiffens, and her eyes open and lock onto him. The purr becomes a rattle in her throat.

“You’re touching it,” Alan whispers. “Why are you touching it?”

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