Page 23 of Stay in Your Lane!

“Um.” Kyle stared at me for a moment, his big eyes blinking behind plain black frames. “Where did that come from?”

I waved a hand. “It’s fine, it’s not important. I’d still like to meet Steve and your other pets, though. Is that okay?”

He sighed. “Fine.Fine. Just don’t get upset when it’s an underwhelming experience.”

I was going to meet Kyle’s piranhasandsee where he lived, all while spending more time with him. There was no aspect of this that was going to be underwhelming. “Thanks. Where’s your place?”

He texted me an address, then paid for his half of the tab and headed for the door. “Don’t rush,” he said over his shoulder. “I need to tidy a few things before you get there, and I don’t want you to get arrested for reckless driving.”

“I’ve never been arrested,” I called after him. I mean, sure, I’d been pulled over for reckless driving once, but that was because of the snow. And the cop had let me go real quick once he realized what—or rather,who—I had in the back of the hearse.

I paid the server, who patted me on the shoulder with her heavily be-ringed hand and said, “Next time you bring a date here, the pie’s on the house, honey.”

“Oh, he wasn’t a date,” I told her.

She arched one painted-on eyebrow at me. “Even with the party crasher and her little one, that eye contact screamed date. Just see if you’re not back here splitting a slice in another day or so.”

“From your lips to God’s ear.”

She cackled. “If he’s gonna start listening to me now, after fifty-seven years, I’ve got some words for that bastard! He?—”

“Speak no evil of the Lord, harlot of Satan!”

“Father Kirby!” She turned to shout at the man in all black sitting on a barstool near the counter. “Who said you could come in here and start calling people harlots? Huh? I told you once, I told you a thousand times—leave your damn Bible thumpin’ at the door!”

That was my cue to get out of there. Kyle’s truck was gone, no surprise, but the hearse was nearly blocked in by the cars next to it. Just because I was at aslightforty-five-degree angle…sheesh. It took five minutes to get out of there without scraping a bumper, which would mean my brother killing me. Then it was another fifteen to get to a modest section of town at the edge of the suburbs where, it turned out, Kyle lived in a small ranch-style house.

I parked and stared at it for a second. There was a welcome mat at the front door. There were flower boxes on the tiny deck’s railing. There was a bird feeder, with actual birds fluttering around it doing their thing. It was all so…neat. So tidy. Basically the antithesis of me.

“Don’t fuck this up,” I whispered to myself before shutting off the engine and heading to the door.

I had just enough time to get in one knock on the door before it opened. “Hey.” He sounded slightly breathless—I must have interrupted him in the middle of cleaning something up, not that it seemed like he had anything to clean. This place, from what I could see, was spotless. Kyle had shed his jacket, revealing arms with the kind of lean muscle you got from working a hard physical job. His shoes were off, too. Ah, no problem.

“Hi.” He stepped aside to let me in and I took my shoes off by the door.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” I told him. I just hoped my socks didn’t smell like corn chips—I’d done laundry a few days ago, but I sometimesmixed up my clean and dirty piles of clothes. I waited a second, and—excellent. “So where?—”

A light bump to the front of my shin distracted me, and I looked down to see a fuzzy orange face rubbing against my jeans like it was trying to drill through them. “Wow, someone’s friendly!”

“Jeff isn’t picky when it comes to company,” Kyle said, then made a face. “I’m not saying you’re not worth picking, I’m just saying that he’s more outgoing than Patches.”

“It’s fine.” I bent down and held my hand out for a wuzz and got a pair of paws on my chest in exchange as Jeff stood up to get a good sniff of my face. “Hey buddy.” I ran my hand down his sleek back, which was orange with faint white stripes, and grinned when he began to make biscuits on my shirt. “Gosh, you’re so—ow!” Claw biscuits, claw biscuits! I put a stop to that by picking him up and tucking him into my arm like a baby. My mother’s old cat had loved being held like that. Would Jeff?

If the way he was purring was any indicator, he didn’t mind it at all. “Oh yes, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?” I cooed at him. Shit, his little fuzzy face was so cute, I couldn’t stand it! “A sweet little fluffy baby, yeah. Baby cat.” I waved one of his paws around, then kissed the top of it. Did I dare go for tummy rubs?

I looked over at Kyle to ask if Jeff was homicidal about tummy rubs and found him staring at me with an open mouth, like he couldn’t believe how undignified I was being with his cat. “Um. Is this okay?”

Kyle cleared his throat. “It’s…fine, but you wanted to meet Steve, didn’t you?”

Right! I gently set Jeff down on all fours. “I have to meet Steve. Where’s his…oh.”

Wow. I had never seen a tank that big in a place that wasn’t, like, an aquarium or a fancy restaurant. It spanned an entire wall, and it had actual living plants in it, as well as a three-levelcastle, a treasure chest, and a tiny pirate’s skeleton.Aw, cute!So appropriate for a tank full of piranhas too. And speaking of…

“That’s Gladys.” Kyle pointed at a fish in the bottom-left corner of the tank.

“She’s so much bigger than I thought she’d be.” This fish had to be almost eight inches long, and it had a bright red belly. One of the teeth in the bottom of its jaw stood out at a wonky angle, but overall she appeared to be in perfect health.

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