Page 54 of S.O.S. Billboard

The pair looked at each other and their faces became determined.

Right,O’Shea scoffed. Note to self: Teenagers are easily manipulated by food.

Billboard hadn’t joined in the conversation one way or another, but continued to stare stoically at his watch. “Thirty seconds,” he finally stated, his face showing no emotion.

What was his problem, anyway?

O’Shea had known Billboard was normally a non-communicative neanderthal, but for the past few days he was taking taciturn to a whole new level.

“Three, two, one, go,” he instructed the girls.

The teens headed off in the direction Ethan and Rory had taken, barely paying attention to the ground or the vegetation around them.

“This is going to take a long time,” Sarge sighed.

“It sure is,” Prez agreed.

Good.That would be long enough for O’Shea to take Billboard aside and ask him what was lodged up his ass. It was one thing, giving her the cold shoulder for two days. It was another, taking his bad mood out on his friends.

“Billboard. Can I talk to you privately for a moment, please?” O’Shea asked sweetly. She dared steal a glance at Prez, who winked.Yeah.The guys were aware that Billboard was grumpier than normal.

“Can it wait?” Billboard mumbled; his lips turned down.

“Sure. If you want to continue to alienate your friends by being a prick,” she came back immediately, her voice still dripping honey.

Billboard looked at her with his dark eyes flashing. Did he really want to rip off her head?

Shit.What the fuck was stuck in his craw?

Still, she wasn’t about to step back.

“Fine,” he eventually grunted, and stalked off in the opposite direction from the one the girls had taken. Ten feet into the woods, he stopped, but O’Shea felt a little more distance might be prudent. If things got heated, she didn’t want the guys to hear it. She took his arm and dragged his reluctant ass another twenty feet or so, finally stopping at a rocky outcropping where she let him go, and took a seat.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” She didn’t beat around the bush. It wasn’t her style.

“Nothing,” Billboard replied.

“Wrong answer,” O’Shea huffed. “Listen. If you have a problem with me—which clearly you’ve had since the minute I helped take down those kidnapping dudes—just say so and I’ll make things easy on both of us. I’ll move out.”

Not that it would be a simple task now that she owned not one, but two cats.

Yeah.Her soft heart hadn’t been able to surrender the tiny orange kitten from the van to the Animal Rescue League. Picturing that sweet little face in a cage… O’Shea shivered.No.She just couldn’t do it, and nobody else had stepped up to help the poor abandoned thing, so…

She was now the proud mom of both Zoe and Cheeto.

Billboard, already in the grips of some kind of anger at that point, hadn’t said no when O’Shea had asked if she could keep Cheeto. He’d merely shrugged and walked away.

She’d taken that as a yes.

Luckily, once they’d gotten home, Zoe had taken to the kitten right away. She’d adopted him as her own; grooming the small boy, cuffing him when he needed correcting, and best of all, after they’d both settled down, they’d slept in a cute little pile all night.

“Maybe youshouldmove,” Billboard finally threw out, answering her question. “It’d probably be easier for both of us.”

O’Shea barely held in her rage. “You mean it will be easier foryou,” she countered.

He gave that ubiquitous shrug that was beginning to fill in for those times when he didn’t want to talk.

“Fine, then,” she snapped. “Will you at least keep the cats until I can find a place that will accept them?” She’d start searching apartments for rent as soon as they got back to his house.

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