In Your Dreams

46 || Emmett Larkin

Two things I’ve learned about Phoebe Summers over breakfast: first, her soft spot for animals—cats in particular. She’s got a clear instinct to feed and fuss over them, going out of her way to go an extra mile and even order an extra omelet just for the cat we’d somehow befriended. Between the three of us, that omelet didn’t stand a chance, and I’m positive the cat got more bites than either of us combined. Phoebe barely touched her grilled cheese, too busy making sure the cat got a fair share.

The second thing I’ve learned? Phoebe’s definitely hiding something from me. I caught the distant look in her eyes earlier when she saw the mother and daughter. I know I wasn’t imagining it. A part of me wants to pry, just to understand what she’s going through. But I have no idea how to even start prying. Instead, I kept thinking of ways to ask her about her past while I watch her lift her caramel macchiato to her lips, looking so lost in thought. Good, she's too busy with her kind that she hadn't noticed me analyzing her.

My attention snaps back when the cat meows at me. It stares at me intently, and I glance down to see what it’s so focused on. “What’s up?” I ask, checking myself to see if I’ve got anything of interest. “We already finished the omelet, big guy. No more food here,” I say, reaching over to scratch the cat’s head. It just purrs and rubs against my arm, and I chuckle softly before my eyes drift back to Phoebe.

She’s watching me with a look that’s almost piercing. Her amber colored eyes brought color to the way she's staring at me. I swear my breath hitched a little when our eyes met for a splint second before glance back down at the cat. “Weird question,” she says suddenly, setting her coffee down. "And maybe a little random," She adds. “Where do you live?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?” I keep my voice casual but still focus on petting the cat, keeping a smirk in place.

She groans, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on. Isn’t it a little unfair that you know where I live, yet I don’t know a thing about where you stay?”

I shrug, feigning indifference. “Nope. It’s not my fault I know where you live without asking. That's all Alecks idea not mine. So go ahead and blame him after we head back.” I grin mischievously, wiggling my eyebrows. “Why are you asking, anyway? Planning to send me gifts for being such a good companion?” I place a hand on my chest, looking like I've appreciated the gesture. "You shouldn't have. But, by the way, I do like to have a new guitar case. In case you're actually planning to send me gifts."

“Do you accept death threats in the mail as a gift as well?” she shoots back, deadpan, and I can’t help but laugh.

I wink at her, not entirely sure why I'm feeling flirty towards her. “Anything you send will be appreciated,” I reply, flashing a grin. The cat rolls onto its back, showing its belly, and I can’t resist reaching down to give it a good scratch. “Friendly fellow, aren’t you?” I murmur right against the cat after leaning down to it.

“Just tell me where you live—no need to go over the specifics,” she presses, leaning across the table with a pleading look in her eyes. “Please? I promise I’m not planning anything weird.” She flutters her lashes dramatically, and I stare at her for a solid moment before looking away, back to the cat.

With a reluctant sigh, I finally give in. “I live near campus.”

“In a dorm?” she asks, eyebrows shooting up.

I shake my head. “An apartment,” I say, watching her face light up as if she’s unlocked some sort of mystery. I try to focus back on the cat, who’s doing a good job of keeping my attention off her.

Phoebe leans forward again. “Okay, one follow-up question—”

“No,” I say immediately, cutting her off before she could even ask her follow-up question. If only I could pry into her past as easily as she’s trying to get into my personal life. “No more questions.”