Pardon My French Press (The Coffee Loft Series) by J.P. Sterling

Author:J.P. Sterling [Sterling, J.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-01-04T00:00:00+00:00

nineteen

Portia

I received a text from Christian saying he had found Mr. Noodles, and I ran home at record speed to meet him. He’s seriously slow because both Arielle and I beat him to my apartment and made hot chocolate by the time he hobbled up. A single knock sounds on the door, and I whip it open.

“I got your cat,” he grumbles. “Now, give me Arielle, and we can leave.”

My jaw plummets. He has deep rows of scratches etched into both sides of his face, mimicking sideburns. I size them to match the exact width of Mr. Noodles’ claws. Mud cakes his pants all the way up to his knees. I can’t even tell what color his shoes are. Mr. Noodles is wrapped in his jacket, and tucked in a ball under his arm with a scowl, clearly unhappy.

“That’s not my cat, by the way.” Blinking, I tease him. “You can put him back from wherever you got him."

“Not your cat!” he screeches as his face grows scarlet. “I don’t care if it’s not your cat. He is now. He’s gray. He has whiskers. He was in a tree right across the street. I climbed the tree, but he fled before I could grab him. Then I chased him down a muddy alley, all while slipping and sliding to my death. I finally cornered him between a building and a trash can. I had to use my good jacket to restrain him but not before he ripped my face off. I’m not putting him back. I didn’t want to agree to any of this.” He reaches his hands out, dangling the cat out in front of him. “I’m done!”

Clumsily catching Mr. Noodles, I cradle him next to my chest, and he curls right in. I’m not mean. Christian went through the hassle of finding Mr. Noodles, and I can tell he doesn’t think this is funny. “It’s my cat. I was joking. Sorry, if that stressed you out more.”

“Good!” He bobbles his head while parking both hands on his hips. “I’ll leave you two alone then.”

“Thank you for everything.” My words rush out a little garbled up, and I hope they aren’t lost.

He sticks his head into my door, calling out, “El, it’s time to leave.”

She glides across the room and smiles at me. “Christian needs to talk to you before we leave.” She glares at him. “Right?”

Christian clamps down on his bottom lip, pausing for an insanely long time. I actually toss a look back to Arielle to make sure I understood her, but she only nods back to Christian. Finally, when I’m assuming, Christian lost his voice, he burps out, “Do you want your job back?”

Arielle elbows him on the arm. He snorts, pinching his lips together tightly, but sputters out, “Please.”

I bat my eyes. “I’d love that.”

“Great, have a nice night with Mr. Murder Claws.” He turns on his heel and heads straight for the stairs.

“Night.” Arielle flashes a wave at me as she pinches back a smile and follows him.

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