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More silence, broken by another plaintive meow.
“Dunno,” Emiel rasped. “Maybe.”
I squeezed his shoulder convulsively. “I’ll take it for now. Does that mean we can get out of this basement, please? For one thing, the litterboxes down here really need to be cleaned. And for another—don’t take this the wrong way, Emiel, but you desperately need a shower.”
Luca pushed himself to his feet. “Seconded, on both counts. But... you know, if you wanted to leave off with the pheromone suppressors for a bit, Emiel—I wouldn’t be unhappy about it.”
I turned a pleading gaze on the alpha. “Oh, would you? Iloveyour scent. You don’t have to hide it.”
Emiel peeked up at us with his good right eye. “You do?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “It’s amazing. I want to make a dessert in its honor. You can help me test recipes!”
Emiel looked completely derailed for a moment.
“Guess it wouldn’t hurt to let it go for a few more days,” he said cautiously. “The suppressors... they just... help me not think about everything so much.”
“So, how’s that been working out for you?” Luca asked.
Emiel hesitated. “Not so great, I guess.”
“Try it long enough for me to get the dessert right,” I suggested. “If you hate it, you can always start taking them again.”
“’Kay,” he said. “S’pose I can do that.”
I’d rolled onto my knees on the hard floor when I’d separated from him earlier, and my kneecaps were killing me. Getting up was an agony of stiff joints, punctuated by pins and needles.
“Wow,” I said, holding a hand down to him. “Could we maybe do this in a nest next time? Or at least a proper bedroom.”
“That would seem to be preferable, yes,” Luca agreed. He reached a hand down as well.
Emiel looked between us, hesitating before reaching up and taking our hands with his battered ones. Even with two of us, it was a bit of a procedure getting him on his feet. Princess jumped down from his lap with an irritated huff, but once he was upright, she immediately started weaving around his legs.
“Stairs. Shower. Sleep,” I said firmly. “On a soft surface, with blankets and pillows.”
“Yes, fucking please,” said Luca, who’d presumably been awake keeping an eye on things while Emiel and I had been out cold.
We helped Emiel hobble toward the stairwell, and I silently promised myself one more day of rest before I pulled up my big girl panties and went to deal with the restaurant... and Nat.
EIGHT
Mia
THE LESS SAID ABOUTgetting Emiel up the steep stairway to the first floor, the better. It was also a lot later than I’d thought, based on the clock in the hallway—almost ten a.m.