Page 21 of Fritillaria

“The Head of Label Strategy knows that we’re together?! And you think that’s OK?!” I lose my grip on her and on sleep as she sits up in the bed.

“Darling, it’s OK. Finnegan is my best friend. No one will realize that we’re both sicktogether.” I reach out, running my fingers through her hair. The auburn waves hang forward, barely covering her boobs. I try to hide my boners, shifting a little. “I thought it would be nice to take the day and hang out with each other.”

“Sorry,” she giggles, a giant sigh escaping her. “I was in panic mode. Thank you, that was a great idea.”

Matilda leans forward, capturing my lips in hers and I melt against her. A fierce protectiveness washes over me as she snuggles back in, dimming the light again. It’s a good reminder that there was no way I would have been able to let her be around other people today.

“Mine,” I mumble into her hair, not sure if she can really hear me.

We attempt to snooze for a little, but unfortunately Matilda’s panic this morning woke us up. I order us breakfast and we sit and chat about ourselves, getting to know one another.

We decide that it’s best if we don’t actually have penetrative sex yet, both hopeful that Ivy will come around soon and we can share our first time with her.

I am grateful to have this time with Matilda. But I am worried that Ivy will go into heat, and that I won’t be there to protect her. I try not to let it ruin the day, but it’s always in the back of my mind.

I’m reminded again of how unprepared I am for all of this. I really need to figure out what we are going to do for a nest when it all happens.

Chapter 18

Ivy

My satchel strap snags on the door handle to the studio and I nearly fall flat on my face.

I feel like I can’t catch a break at the moment. Ever since I got my nails done, everything has been going wrong for me this past week.

Of course Rachel had been correct, but that didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want a relationship right now, never mindtwo. I wanted to focus on my album, and making more music.

That’s why I’m at the studio today. I’ve avoided it for a week, and I have been getting no work done at home. So here I am, trying to avoid the main hallways as I make my way to the studio I’ve booked for the day. Trying to avoid running into Matilda or Aspis.

Maybe if I give them enough space, they will forget about me and move on with just each other. Hell, maybe they already have. I wouldn’t know.

A pang of sadness strikes my chest at the direction my thoughts are going in. It’s not jealousy, I’m not sad about them being together. It’s weird, it’s almost like I’m sad that they wouldn’t be withme.

Why do I care so much anyway? I have bigger things to worry about right now. Like the fact that my album is not being written, and that the label will soon start asking questions on timings. But it’s like my creative well has dried up.

Every time I go to put pen to paper or open my mouth to sing something, all that comes out are just sad songs about longing. Fuck that. That is not my usual synth pop meets metal vibe.

So maybe the change of environment will help. My brain associates the studio with writing music, so maybe this will be the key. I’m also trying to forget that I wasn’t able to write anything in here the week before.

Turning the corner, I run smack into another person, their shoulder whacking right into my boob.

“Ouch!” they squeal in a feminine voice.

“You good?” I ask, rubbing my chest as a brunette Human with bright blue eyes looks up at me. I can see the moment recognition lights up their face.

I think I might know them? Honestly, I’m not so sure.

“Oh,you’re Ivy.” She says, ignoring my question.

“And you are?” I put a hand on my hip, looking her up and down. She’s dressed pretty casual in just a t-shirt and jeans with sneakers. It even looks like she has a coffee stain on her shoes.

“I’m Rosie. I run—”

“The café.” I cut her off. She is my boss’s mate, so I know I should be nicer. But I’m just feeling far too grumpy for this interaction. Besides, I have music to write. I move to the side and start to walk around her, seeing as she’s just standing there.

“Could we talk for a minute?” She surprises me by saying, grabbing on to my arm.

“Why?” I am trying not to let my suspicion show in my voice. Why on earth does she want to talk to me?

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