It’s all Sean says, and if I’m not mistaken, he lookshurt.
“Is that a problem?”
He’s quick to shake his head. “Of course not.”
“But?” I prompt because I know there’s more.
“Neither of you mentioned it.” He shrugs. “Just thought you might’ve done, that’s all.” He turns to finish making the dinner he invited me over for. Lucky gets up from his bed and pads over to lie at his feet, like he can tell Sean needs him. He also manages to give me his best doggy glare, which I’d laugh at if I didn’t find it so cute.
Lucky is the goodest of good boys, loyal to a fault, and the fact he sensed Sean’s mood change means I know I’ve fucked up a little. Sean’s my best friend. There’s not a lot in our lives that we haven’t shared with each other, so I can see why he’s upset about this.
Especially since Reed was his friend first.
“I’m not sure why I’ve never mentioned it before now.” I mull it over in my head, but I can’t pinpoint any particular reason. “I guess at first I didn’t know if he’d reply to that initial message I sent or if anything would come of it.”
“But it has?”
I nod, my smile instant. “Yeah.”
His eyes narrow, the conclusion he’s jumping to blatantly obvious. And wrong.
“Not like that.” I point a finger at him. “You asked me to reach out and offer him friendship, someone outside his life who he could talk to if he wanted. So that’s what I did.”
He draws his lip between his teeth, considering my words. “You’re right. Sorry for getting weird about it. It took me by surprise, that’s all.”
I wave him off. “I should’ve told you. I don’t know why I haven’t.”
I can see his mind working overtime, and who knows what theories he’s about to come up with. Pretty sure I won’t want to hear any of them, so I nod at dinner bubbling away on the hob. “When’s food ready? I’m starving.”
Sean huffs, but my distraction works, and he busies himself dishing up the beef stew and dumplings that smell delicious.
I’ve almost forgottenthe whole Reed conversation until we’re collapsed on Sean’s sofa, eyes closed, bellies full of food, when my phone chimes with a text notification.
I don’t need to look at the screen for confirmation, because Iknow.
I crack an eye open, and Sean is staring back at me. Like that text chime has pulled him out of his food coma and reminded him of our earlier conversation. My fingers itch to reach for my phone, and judging by the smirk Sean’s wearing, he knows it too.
It buzzes again, the screen lighting up with another message.
“You going to read that?” For someone who was almost comatose a second ago, Sean looks surprisingly wide awake now.
I ignore him and reach for my phone.
The first thing that pops up when I open the message is a picture of a skinny dark grey cat with a white patch on its chest and white paws. It’s stretching, reaching up against what I assume is the front of a cage in a cat shelter, because I can see a few more cats in the background.
Reed: I took your advice and contacted a couple of the local animal shelters.
Jerry: And?
Reed: This is Frank.
I snort. I’ve heard a shit ton of weird and wonderful names that people call their pets, but some of them never fail to amuse me.
Jerry: Who calls a cat Frank?
Reed: Ikr? They said I can change it but, idk, he seems pretty attached to it.
I laugh this time because when we spoke last, Reed said he was just going to have a look at the shelter. Maybe meet a few of the cats and see if he was still interested in getting one. Sounds to me like he’s already decided.
