“That’s what they always said when I’d ask for a cat. That cats were the devil.”
Fuck me.
She doesn’t believe them.
She washurtby them.
I’m bent over in an instant, making a soft little clucking noise to call the friendliest of the kitten bunch, because I’m gonna do for Delaney what her parents never did.
Mind made up.
I don’t care who she is. I don’t care what our history is. I don’t care how much it’s gonna hurt like hell if seeing her with a kitten makes all of those old repressed feelings roar back to life.
A girl should have a cat if she fucking wants a cat.
“Jellybean, c’mere,” I say to the gray kitten who fell asleep in my hand two nights ago.
And when the tiny, barely-one-pound ball of fluff comes boingy-boingy-running to me with her little tail pointed in the air and her blue eyes open wide and her big ears fully up and curious, I scoop her right up.
Then I grab Laney’s hand and deposit the cat into her palm.
Laney squeaks.
Jellybean mews.
And then the very worst thing in the entire world happens, just like I knew it would.
Laney Kingston melts over that kitten in front of my eyes.
“Oh, you areprecious,” she whispers as she lifts Jellybean until they’re almost nose-to-nose while the two of them stare at each other, blue eyes lined up with blue eyes.
I lift my hands, fully intending to grip Laney by the shoulders and guide her to the chair in the corner to sit and enjoy the kitten—or maybe all of the kittens—but I’m terrified to touch her again.
Compliant Delaney? Kitten-deprived Delaney?HurtDelaney?
She’s inspiring instinctive caveman tendencies that I haven’t let myself feel for her since I couldn’t control it in high school.
“You’re so soft,” Laney whispers. “How are you so soft?”
Jellybean meows at her.
“Oh, look at your eyes. And yourears. They’re so big for your head. And your paws. Oh my god, how are your paws so tiny?”
Fuck me again. I need to get out of here, but I also need to make sure they have fresh water and enough food, and I need to make sure she won’t tell anyone they’re here.
Get me in trouble? I don’t care.
Hurt my kittens?
Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.
She carries Jellybean past the bed to the wicker chair in the corner beside the closed balcony doors all on her own, carefully stepping around the other kittens swarming her as she goes.
All except Fred.
Fred doesnotlike people, so he’s not swarming.
I poke my head under the bed and verify that he is, in fact, still hovering back there. The black-spotted tabby shrinks back at the sight of me.
