Page 191 of Altius
“Surely there’s something you can use as common ground.”
He gave a rueful smile. “Does despising our mother count?”
Wyatt cracked open the shower door to grab a fluffy towel off the hook, giving me a vigorous rub-down, as though I were a dog who’d just wandered in from a muddy romp.
He could learn a thing or two from Alijah and Joaquin when it came to the finer points of pampering.
“Well,” I said, taking the towel from him before he could attack my hair, “what do you think about him continuing to join our morning workouts? Maybe you could try running a marathon together.”
His head drifted to the side as he pondered the idea, giving me the perfect angle to gently dry his hair.
“I’ll ask him,” he said. “And make sure he knows it was your idea.”
Draping the towel around his shoulders, I pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Thank you.”
Stepping out of the shower, I slipped on my fluffy robe—or the identical impostor that had appeared after my heat. I was pretty sure Alijah had made off with my original one.
Heading into my closet, I surveyed my limited selection of everyday clothes.
I settled on jeans, a black t-shirt, black leather boots, and a green retro cardigan with Captain Tusker embroidered on the chest.
If I was going down, I was taking the snarling piratical nuisance with me.
***
Kelsey picked a trendy bistro a short drive from Tolliver Yards for lunch. It was a brisk but sunny day, and our window seat was the perfect excuse for me to keep my sunglasses on.
If I turned my head, I could spot the old garment factory, a dilapidated pile of whitewashed bricks with an overwhelming aura of lead paint, even two blocks away.
“How did your appointment go?” Kelsey asked after we placed our orders—salmon and mushroom risotto for me and a chicken ciabatta club sandwich for her.
“As expected.”
Taking a deep breath, I willed my tongue to form the next words, the most important words. But this was Kelsey. She probably already knew what I was about to say.
Glancing at her, attempting to gauge how much detail I needed to go into, I got the shock of my life.
My sister sat there, in her pastel Nordic-pattern sweater and vintage pink beaded clip-on earrings, beaming at me.
“That’s fantastic, Morgan. You have to be so relieved that your heat reset everything.”
Holy shit.
A spike of disbelief drove itself deep into my brain, rendering me speechless.
I’d downplayed my miserable state, but not to the extent that I thought Kelsey wouldn’t notice.
“You did really well these past two weeks,” she said, straightening her silverware, “so I knew you’d be fine. Which is great, because I have news—unexpected news—but I think you’ll be happy for me. I mean, you saw the boxes yesterday…”
The boxes?
Weren’t they normal shipping supplies, or had I willfully ignored that they looked more like moving boxes?
“I’ve had a few more talks with Jacobi, and he’s going to let me use the storage area in the back of the art gallery as my base of operations for Beaufeather’s until construction is finished.”
Okay. It was just Beaufeather’s relocating. That was a wise decision, especially if my waning syndrome treatment made my pheromones unstable.
“That’s great,” I said, reaching across the table. “Are you finally going to hire some help?”
