“Harley cat, stop!”
I spun on him, jaw tight. “Tarantula.”
Brad’s eyes widened.
“Tarantula,” I said again, this time more loudly. My heart thumped against my ribs until it felt like they were bruised.
His shoulders slumped and he gave me a sad smile. “Can we talk about this? Please?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I shouldn’t have expected any less from a dog owner. As soon as you saw your chance, you took it. But it doesn’t matter, right? We’ve only known each other for a hot minute. That’s it.” I pressed my lips together. “Have fun with your mutt.” I walked around, grabbed the handle of the driver’s door, and then pulled it open, sliding inside. My inner cat didn’t want to go, wanted to stay and hide in the box Brad had found me, but my human side did what it always did—I ran.
Brad stayed there in his front yard, face so sad that I could feel his unhappiness, but I’d been left too many times. This time, I wanted to go before I was abandoned for another dog.
I gotto my house and threw open the door, nearly falling over a small stone statue Mom had bought me for my nonexistent garden. I wanted to kick it, but I was too busy stumbling my way up two stairs and shoving the key into the lock, turning it until the door opened. Making my way inside, I made sure I turned the lock behind me, and headed to my living room. On the floor were cat toys for me and my real cat, Penny, to share. I’d actually thought that Brad would come back here one day to play with us both, me in more sexual ways, obviously.
I’d been stupid.
I fell onto the couch and pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. So stupid.
Meow .
I turned my head when Penny jumped onto the back of the couch, her long legs carrying her toward me. Her tortoiseshell fur looked soft and perfectly groomed. Bumping her head against mine, the vibrations of her purrs tickled my skin when her belly pressed against me.
“Hey, Penny.” I patted down her back and kissed her side as she wound her way around my arm. “How could I be so silly? We should never trust dog lovers.”
She meowed in agreement.
Five dayslater and I was missing Brad’s company. I didn’t know how it was possible, but I thought about his hands on my skin, the timbre of his voice. He’d tried to get in touch with me a few times, but I’d ignored the calls. It was times like these I wished I had good friends like he seemed to have, but the only person I talked to on any normal day was my coworker Logan.
“—so I kicked his ass to the sidewalk, you know what I mean?” Logan blinked at me with green eyes, and it took me a moment to remember what he’d been talking about.
Ah, yes. His brother who used drugs, apparently. He’d been rooming with Logan, until Logan had enough of him and his junkie habits.
“Good choice. Did you know that over seven hundred thousand Americans have died from drug overdoses in eighteen years?” I shook my head. “It’s best not to have him in your house. It could get you in trouble too.”
Logan snorted and grabbed a fistful of his short brown hair. He leaned back in his office chair in a way I considered very dangerous and stretched out his other arm. His tie was already crooked, and the suit jacket hanging off the back of his chair would definitely be crinkled by the time he was done. “That’s what I told my ma, but she’s still ripping me a new one over it. Says I should be taking care of my younger brother. Anyway, his ex-fiancée told me Payton’s heading for Minnesota for some reason. Grabbed his shit and left. I’m sure the cops will nab him on his drive there.”
I nodded, staring at the words on the report in front of me. I’d been looking at it for so long that the text was becoming blurry.”
“I sympathize with him, I do. He was a good accountant, you know? But he had that car accident and got addicted to painkillers, and that was that. We couldn’t help him.”
I didn’t tell him about the opioid problem America had, and how doctors prescribed them too easily because I didn’t care anymore. Every family had problems, and Logan didn’t want answers, he wanted someone to listen. Everyone wanted that someone to lend an ear.
My phone buzzed and I glanced at where it sat on the desk beside my report. Brad’s name flashed on the screen and I clicked it, checking the message.
Harley cat, I told my friend I couldn’t foster the pup. Please call me.
Guilt twisted my insides and I shifted uncomfortably. That hadn’t been fair of me. Brad seemed like a nice guy, the kind who enjoyed helping people. So why was I being such a prick about him helping a mutt?
“Problem?” Logan asked, mouth curling into a wicked smile. “You got a boy, Silvain?”
“No.” I didn’t have boys , I had an owner , but I didn’t tell him that. Normal people like him wouldn’t understand.
Logan shook his head. “Whatever he did to piss you off, give him a break. We aren’t perfect.”
“You talk as though I’m not a man also,” I snapped.
He held up his palms toward me. “You are, you’re just different.”
