I grabbed my glass of water and drained it in greedy gulps. I was tired, thirsty, and so hungry I wanted to unhinge my jaw and tip the contents of the refrigerator into it. I probably should have begged off until tomorrow, but Trick had already had Dammit for a week, and I wanted to cement the bond as soon as possible. But now I was worn down to the bone, and I still had to go to my Mama Ami’s for family dinner.

Trick stared at Dammit in what could only be called wonder. “I can feel him!” My friend frowned. “He’s happy, but he also seems sad. What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said, putting my glass in the sink. “He’s still recovering from the loss of the woman he imprinted on. He’s happy, but still processing, you know? Just keep showing him love and taking good care of him and he’ll get there. It might be a good idea to figure out your radius—how far you can go from him before the communication gets spotty. Otherwise, he might panic when he suddenly can’t reach you.”

I shoved one of Declan’s cookies into my mouth. There was no way I would make it to dinner if I didn’t. I felt like I could eat wood chips right now, I was so hungry. And Declan was delicious.

Cookies! Declan’s cookies were delicious!

Ugh. I’d been trying really, really hard to not think about our moment in the kitchen. Not only because I’d been miserable but also because Declan had smelled amazing. Like cookie dough and something spicy and his arms had been—comforting and something he’d offered as a friend and roommate.

I needed to keep that in mind. He had enough going on without me developing a serious crush. And if he could do me a solid and stop walking around in pajama pants that hung low on his hips and really just highlighted his…everything, that would be great.

What was I doing? Right. Reassuring Trick.

“Remember, Dammit understands what we’re doing, and he’s agreed to it, but emotions are a whole different business. He needs time to heal.” We were out of cookies and my stomach rumbled. We were out of a lot of things. I needed to go grocery shopping. And by groceries, I meant cereal and anything in the “hot pocket” aisle. “Any new name ideas?” Dammit had shot down any suggestions we’d made. Apparently, he was rather attached to Dammit.

“No, but I’ve been thinking. If the name makes him happy, why change it? He’s already had a lot taken away from him.” Trick gave Dammit another scratch. “I’m so sorry, little buddy. We’ll go play with some fire. Will that make you feel better? Who wants to play with fire? You do!” Dammit chirped, ruffling his fluffy red feathers in excitement. “Yes, you do! Who’s the bestest boy?”

I left them to it.

Fifteen minutes later, I was showered, changed, and sitting behind the wheel of my car. I was sitting because my car wouldn’t start. Stupid car. I tried the key again in case this time it magically worked. Nothing. Just a few dull clicks. I banged my head against the steering wheel. I hate everything.