“Kind of.” I lean back, organizing my thoughts. “I do love the place, and I enjoyed working there and helping out when I was younger. But the most exciting thing for me was seeing the vet in action whenever she came out—which was a lot, given my parents’ tendency to take in every stray or surrender that came their way.”
I pause, remembering Dr. Chen’s calm efficiency and her kind, attentive nature.
“She just seemed to know so much and had an answer for everything. Whenever we were worried about one of the animals, she was there with a comforting answer...even if the answer was that it was time for the animal to pass. She never made us feel stupid for asking questions, never rushed through explanations. She made me feel like caring that much was a strength, not a weakness.”
“That’s really touching.”
“Yeah.” I spread my hands, studying the calluses from years of work. “So. This is what I did. I became a vet.”
“What about your parents? What are they like?”
“Total hippies,” I say without hesitation.
She bursts into laughter, the sound filling the room. “That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“Because that doesn’t seem like you at all. You’re so...” she gestures vaguely, “organized. Scheduled. I bet you iron your scrubs.”
“It’s not.” I grin. “I’m definitely the black sheep. My brother is more like our mom and dad. He named his kids River and Sage.”
“Is that hard?”
The question catches me off guard. No one ever asks about the complicated dynamics of being the strait-laced son of people who tried to name me Atlas. “No... Well, maybe? Sometimes.” I laugh, but it’s thoughtful. “I love my family, don’t get me wrong.
Sometimes they do drive me a little crazy, though. Like when Mom insists on reading my aura before letting me treat any of the animals. Or when Dad tries to prescribe crystals as supplements.”
“I think that’s what family is supposed to do.” She studies me for a long moment, those hazel eyes seeing more than I meant to show. “Now that we’re talking more, it really is crazy we’ve never run into each other...but I’m glad we did.”
My breath catches. “I’m glad too.”
The kitten chooses that moment to climb into Flick’s lap, mewing demandingly. She absently strokes its fur, but her attention stays locked on me. “All thanks to this little troublemaker.”
Her gaze is unwavering, pupils dilated in the soft light. Her lips part slightly, and I’m moving before conscious thoughtkicks in. She meets me halfway, and our lips touch gently, experimentally. She tastes like possibility, like coming home to a place I didn’t know I’d been looking for.
“Mew.” A tiny paw bats insistently at my shirt.
I pull back, chuckling. “Sorry.”
“Is this what cats are like?” Flick raises an eyebrow, but her lips are curved and kiss-swollen. “Always in the way?”
“Only most of the time. Are you sure you don’t want one?”
She shakes her head, but her hand is gentle on the kitten’s fur. “I don’t want to think about that right now. What I want is another kiss.”
Heat rushes through me. My hand finds her waist, steadying us both. “Your wish is my command.”
This kiss is deeper, more certain. Her lips part under mine, and the world narrows to this moment, this connection. My tongue traces?—
My phone shrills, shattering the moment. I pull back with a groan. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says softly, though her pupils are still blown wide.
“Let me just check that.” I pull out my phone, trying to calm my racing pulse. The clinic’s number glows on the screen. On my night off. This can’t be good. “Sorry. I need to answer.”
“No problem. Go ahead.” There’s nothing but understanding in her expression, though I hate myself for ruining the moment.
“Hello.”
