“Mmm-hmm,” I roll myprettyblue eyes at him. “Then, you’ll work up to small talk. Or go a different route and ask me if my name is Earl Gray because I’m a HOT TEA.”
He laughs.
I wince. Yep. He had some stupid fucking pickup line in his back pocket.
“Eventually, you’ll get up the nerve to ask me out, we’ll date for a few months, and everything will go well,” I take another sip as I study him. “Things will be fine. Not passionate. Not exciting. Just -fine. And about four or five months into it, we’ll decide to go our separate ways. And then, you’ll find the real love of your life.”
He gasps.
I nod. “It’s true. I don’tdate. I foster men until they find their forever homes.”
Suit opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
“So, unless you’re ready to meet the one, I suggest you go hit on someone else,” I smile sweetly. “Because if we get together, you’ll be married within the year.”
I’ll hand it to the guy. He didn’t leave skid marks on the floor trying to get away from me, but it was touch and go for a while.
“Why do you torture them like that?” Sean leans down to kiss my cheek.
I pat the stool next to me. “Because I’m shutting down the Cat Saber Foster Program for a while.”
Sean shakes his head and orders a whiskey. The man is the definition of Irish, from the top of his red hair to the tips of his pasty-white toes. He once told me he hadalabasterskin. I told him that might be the case, but he shouldn’t tell it to the women he dated.
Then, I found him in bed with another man.
So. Good times.
I wasn’t upset he was gay. Or cheated. I simply didn’t want to deal with the mess of another breakup.
Like when they tried eleventy-million times to get back together with me.
“Kitty-Cat,” Sean sips his whiskey. “I don’t know why you’re dodging my calls. I need to talk to you about something.”
I roll my eyes. “Even if you decided you weren’t gay after all and wanted to come back to me, I’m going to pass. And stop with the stupid nickname.”
“Nope. No way, Kitty-Cat,” Sean laughs. I always loved his laugh. “The name stays. And I don’t want to get back together.”
I fold my arms.
“Ugh, fine,” Sean sighs. “I thought you’d like to be the fifteenth person to know; I’m getting married.”
My stomach drops. Of course, he is. He was the last man to go through the foster program. Sometimes referred to asmarriage boot campby my twin sister Cam.
I force a smile to my face and lean in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Oh yeah. Real sincere,” Sean squints his eyes at me. “I know part of you believes that.”
I chuckle. “I know, I know. I sound bitchy. Iamhappy for you. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Every other guy I date marries the next -person- to come along.”
“If it weren’t for you, I’d still be wasting away on the dating shelf.”
“And trying to play it straight.”
“Also, that.” Sean waves at my face. “What’s going on with you today, Kitty-Cat?”
I sigh. “Nothing. It’s fine. I’m feeling a little out of sorts.”
“Well, telldaddyall about it,” he winks at me.
