He glanced around like he was worried someone might hear us. “All day? Do you really have the energy for that?” He darted his gaze behind me, almost like he suspected Dustin of coming back to eavesdrop on us, then turned his eyes on me, and they nearly glittered with his clear interest.
“You’ll find out.” I held an arm toward him, waiting.
He looked around us again, and then up and down me. Even though he wasn’t trying to be the cat right now, he cautiously stepped closer and put his arms around my waist for a quick hug, before he backed off again on light feet.
“Let me take care of you, and if I don’t do it right this week, well….” I shrugged and suspected that the disappointment I was already feeling would be all over my face but couldn’t help it.
“Okay,” he said softly. He still kept a short distance between us as we walked to the front so I could pay, but out of the corner of my eye I caught him smiling again.
Hot damn, this boy would give me trouble if I wasn’t careful, but my dick plumped up at the thought of all the fun, and I couldn’t wait. I had no idea how you were supposed to discipline a cat, but I knew exactly how to spank a bratty sub. Hell, I even wanted to find out how to train a kitty, assuming it was possible.
Harley wrinkled his nose and sent me another suspicious glance, almost like he could hear my thoughts, but I ignored him and dumped my basket onto the counter in front of the cashier.
“Wow,” she said, “new cat?”
“Yep.” I grinned at her.
Harley sighed behind me.
6
He took me to Grounds and Gears, a small café in the city. It was a couple of blocks away from my workplace, and while I’d seen the shop the few times I’d walked to the post office, I’d never been inside. There were always a couple of shiny motorcycles parked out front, so it was difficult to ignore the place. I wasn’t much of a caffeine drinker and hadn’t been since I read what it could do to your body if you consumed too much. Not that I was innocent when it came to enjoying things I shouldn’t. I didn’t mind an odd beer every now and then after a long day of dealing with my boss and his ridiculous demands.
Brad smiled and held the door open for me, which was nice, and inside was warm and pleasantly humid. The décor had a heavy, masculine feel with dove-gray walls and stainless-steel furniture and appliances. Framed photos of motorcycles were tastefully displayed. I lingered near a detailed pencil sketch of a red Mustang for a moment, the only car that seemed to rank high enough to be stuck on the wall near the bikes, before following after Brad. Dangling from the ceiling around the room were scarlet glass balls with lights inside them that, coupled with the rich notes of coffee on the air, gave the place a sultrier feel than any other coffee shop I’d ever visited.
We were greeted by an enigmatic young person with pink hair and bright eyes. They had a they/them-pronoun badge attached to their blinding rainbow shirt with the name Emmy above it.
“Good afternoon.” They gave us a dazzling smile and waved around the café. “Please choose any seat. I’ll be over to take your order soon. We’re trying out full service. It’s new. Please be gentle.”
“Thank you,” Brad said with a grin of his own.
He chose a table in the corner, away from a group of seven people who sounded like they were yelling at one another rather than actually talking. As soon as we were seated, Emmy came bouncing over with two menus. Their excitable personality should have annoyed me, but I thought it was pleasant on them, and after a cheery smile, they left us again to happily talk to a couple in the opposite corner of the shop.
I’d noticed the two men when I walked in because one of them had a Kings of Men MC jacket on, and the other was so pretty that I thought he was a woman at first. Long, blond hair cascaded around his shoulders, and subtle gloss made his lips shine every time he turned a certain way.
The café itself wasn’t overly busy, but there were enough people that I took my time to assess my surroundings and potential threats in here, the hairs on my arms standing to attention. I hated crowds, which is why I’d surprised myself that I’d found enough courage to go to Black Out last night.
“Are you okay?” Brad’s quiet, soothing voice didn’t startle me as much as anyone else’s usually would when I was on alert.
I glanced at him and nervously licked my lips. “I get claustrophobic sometimes. I’m not a fan of closed spaces with too many people.”
Brad smiled and it made him even more handsome. Lines creased at the corners of his eyes, as well as around his mouth, and I didn’t think it was just from age. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five. He looked like the kind of man who smiled and laughed a lot. “I don’t like crowds much, either.”
My shoulders relaxed, and I gave him a small, timid grin.
“Tell me about yourself, Harley. What do you do for a living?” He had the menu clutched in his hands, but he didn’t stare at it. His attention was on me, and I liked it that way. I couldn’t help but puff my chest out a bit, my cheeks growing hot. He actually wanted to know about me.
“I’m an actuary. I… like numbers, statistics mostly. I can tell you the probability of this relationship working out if you’d like?” As soon as I said it, I dropped my head. The numbers weren’t on our side, and I had a habit of saying things I shouldn’t. Barton had hated it when I did that. He’d always glared at me when I gave him statistics and probabilities.
Brad didn’t glare. He reached out to touch my hand instead, curling his fingers into mine. I stared at his hands because they were bigger than my slimmer ones, and he had the cutest tufts of hair just above his knuckles—not much, but enough to be noticeable.
“I like to leave that kind of thing to emotions rather than stats.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “But I do like statistics too. I work in a blood bank. I took all the training to help on the ground, but I’m a grant writer, and also call corporations to ask for donations. Blood and otherwise. I have to give them stats too. I have to prove we’re doing a good job.”
“Really?” I found myself smiling, which felt both odd and nice. It wasn’t one of those strained expressions I had to give my boss and coworkers, or the ones Mom liked seeing when I made myself go over to her house once a month for dinner. This kind of smile was genuine.
“Yeah, really.” He winked at me, and my face felt hot. I dropped my gaze to stare at the open menu in front of me, but only because the gooey feeling in my belly felt weird, and also pleasant. “When did you realize you were a cat?”
I licked my lips and forced myself to look at him again. “About four years ago. I… I’m not great at human interaction. I come across as an asshole, but I don’t mean to. Being a cat is simple. I don’t have to pretend to like people and I don’t have to be shy. Cats are just… easier.”
