Page 55 of Lost Lyrebird

“Finding Nemo.Watch it.”I point at him.“And that’s not a recommendation.”

“Yes, ma’am.”He does a half-assed salute.

I want to go on and on about why it’s an epic tale, but I’m sure he’d look at me like I’m a loon.It’s one of my all-time favorites.I love that it’s not about romance.It’s not about a girl pining for some guy.It’s about finding the person and place that represents home for that damn cute little fish.

He’s quiet for only a moment before muttering, “If I had to count, I’d say I’ve probably seen less than a handful of those kinds of films.”

“What?No Way.”

He nods.

“That’s like un-American.”

He chuckles at this.“We had one TV, and usually my dad commandeered it.He always had it turned to an action movie or true crime.If not that, then a ball game.He also loved old reruns ofM*A*S*H.If I wanted to watch anything, I had to wake up early on the weekends to get the TV to myself.”

We’ve moved closer to one another without realizing it, and our arms brush.His gaze meets mine when they do, and we share a moment.One, I’m quick to shut down.

We’re nearly past the large dumpster, and a small scream escapes me when a black shadow darts out.I jump back, clutching my chest.Finn is in front of me before I can blink.

I peek from behind him to see the shadow, a small black cat with light eyes.It stands on the dumpster lid, meeting Finn’s gaze head-on.It hisses at him.I clutch the back of his cut and try to pull him back.

The next hiss is followed by a growled warning.The sound has chills spreading down my arms.Memories from the year I lived with my grandma flood into my mind.The junk, the smell, and how she not only allowed those mini-devils to treat her home like a litter box and cat motel, but how some of the more diabolical ones would attack even when not provoked.It comes back to me like it was yesterday.Yes, her home was a safer place for me than my own home once my stepfather moved in, but it left me with a lifelong fear of cats.

Finn coos at the thing and reaches out to pet it, even though it looks feral.

I screech, “Don’t touch it!”

He arches an eyebrow at me over his shoulder.“It’s just a cat.”He says it as if I’m crazy.Like he’s simply dealing with a cute, cuddly pet.Rabbits are cute.Cats are not.They’re little schemers.It’s a universal truth that even cat owners can’t deny.They love that they’re unpredictable and independent.

Finn isn’t successful.In exchange for his kind treatment, he curses and recoils when it nearly bites him.But instead of being reasonable, he rationalizes the beast’s behavior.“Damn, guess she must have some babies nearby.”

I nearly roll my eyes at this, but ask, “How do you know?”

He tilts his head and crouches a bit, as if inspecting her.“Her belly.”

I’m tempted to check for myself, but the thought of getting any closer sends a shudder rolling through me.“I’ll take your word for it.”

He rises and turns, giving me a perplexed look again.I thread my arm through his and guide him to keep walking, using him as a shield until we’re a safe distance away.

He studies my expression.“Not a cat person, I take it?”The corner of his mouth pulls to the side.It’s not a full smile, but still, it draws my focus to his kissable lips outlined by his trimmed goatee.His sharp jawline is highlighted by contrast alone.

Really, he’s aged beautifully—I can’t deny it—but my attraction to him goes deeper than his looks, and it always has.His quiet, calm demeanor is a balm, his strength a comfort, and his nature to protect an enticing lure to a girl who has spent her entire life looking over her shoulder.

I scold myself for letting these thoughts take up residence in my mind.

This is precisely why being this close to him is dangerous.His ability to sneak so easily into my heart goes unnoticed until it’s too late.He just slips right the fuck in and makes me feel things I shouldn’t.

I let go of his arm as we get to my car.“Thanks for walking me out.I appreciate it.”

I don’t realize Finn’s stopped until I turn around.His eyes are closed.His hand is pressed to his head.My worry for him returns.

“Hey, are you all right?”

He doesn’t seem to hear me.So I move closer, placing a hand on his arm.When he comes out of it, he shakes his head.The way he looks at me when his eyes finally open… melts me on the spot.He’s scanning my face, my features, and then my eyes intently.His gaze falls to my lips.Heat travels down my body.

“Yeah,” he whispers gruffly.“Just another feather.”

“A what?”