She nodded. “I promise.”
He watched her another moment, a calculating side-eye, then turned and continued to the elevator.
~*~
Cass loved the freedom that dorm life offered. For the first time ever, she could keep her own schedule and didn’t have Raven or some other self-appointed parental figure peeking in her door and masking suspicion with a smile. But small, cramped, and crowded with her and her roommate’s belongings, everything cheaply-made and slap-dash in its composition, the dorm didn’t feel like home the way Raven’s flat did. Even the elevator was fancy, and she supposed that made her a spoiled brat, the way she’d grown used to the luxuries of life.
The club flat wasn’t fancy, though, and that felt like a second home. A fact she found herself pondering more and more of late.
Natalia’s squalls reached them when they were halfway down the hall.
“Ah, Jesus,” Shep muttered, lip curled. “Does that thing ever shut up?”
“Rarely.” Cass grimaced as she fished out her keys. “For, like, whole minutes at a time. But there’s a lot of this.” She gestured to the door, then braced herself, unlocked it, and let them in.
“There’s gotta be something wrong with it,” Shep muttered as they trooped into the foyer and toed off their shoes.
“Shenotit, you jerk,” Cass reminded. “And if there’s something wrong with her, why don’t you tell us what it is? You’re the doctor.”
“Medic.”
“Same diff.”
“Hm, not really. Stick to art school if you think that.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and then led the way deeper into the flat.
Morning sun gleamed in the long bank of windows that led out onto the rooftop terrace, gilding the kitchen fixtures and highlighting the deep bags under Toly’s eyes. He stood at the island, stirring sugar into a giant mug of coffee, dressed in pajama pants and a white wifebeater that showed off the bratva ink he should have covered or converted long ago. His normally-coiled posture was more of a slump, and his hair was wild and finger-combed. When he glanced up at their entrance, his usually-sharp gaze was flat.
Cass made a split-second decision to pretend that everything was fine. “Morning,” she said, brightly, crossing the kitchen. “Is there more coffee?”
Toly hooked a thumb toward the pot and she went to pour herself a mug, heart hammering with nerves. Shep hadn’t ratted her out, so if she could play things cool, and if Natalia kept screaming, Raven and Toly wouldn’t poke too hard at her story.
As if to spite her, Natalia’s cries cut off.
The ensuing silence had a low buzz.
“So. Fatherhood,” Shep said behind her. “All you hoped it would be?”
When she turned, she saw that Shep had slid onto one of the stools across the island from Toly. Toly shot him the bird, and Shep bared his teeth in a not-nice grin.
“Hey, you asked for it.”
“No one asked for it,” Raven said, striding in from the hall. She was still beautiful, because she simply was, at all times, no matter her dress, and she’d lost the baby weight with alacrity. But her hair was in a falling-down bun, and her Chanel track suit had a smudge of what might be baby puke on the shoulder, and she carried a squirming Natalia with an air of exhaustion. “Clearly, the Devin Green curse skips a generation.”
Shep gave her an up-and-down look. “Does it?”
Raven smiled, and it was a lethal expression even with eyes puffy from sleeplessness. “Shepherd. Be a dear andget bent.”
“Nah, I let other people do that for me.”
“God,” Raven muttered. “It’s too early for you. It’s too early for anyone. Darling…” She turned to Toly, who set down his coffee and took the baby. “Bless you. I need to shower before my meeting.”
Natalia squirmed and fussed and kicked until Toly tucked her up onto his shoulder, and then she calmed, staring at Cass with her huge dark eyes. She looked like Raven, except when she stared; then, she was all Toly.
Cass reached to press the tip of her nose like a button, and Nat smiled. “Hello, bug.”
Toly angled his body back toward the island, and then toward Cass, holding Nat secure with one hand while he lifted his coffee with the other. He sent her a tired version of his usual hooded, information-seeking gaze. “A friend’s house?”
