“I’d like to see you try.”
King glances at Rome. “I thought us hockey players were supposed to be the violent ones.”
He’s looking down at his phone. “I’m too busy making a list of supplies Brooks needs for his house to talk shit.”
I groan.
King jerks his chin toward the balcony. “We’re definitely putting the cat tower there, right?”
I groan again, but even as I do that, I see Chrissy pointing her phone in Briar’s direction. Her face melts at whatever is on the screen (though I guess I knowexactlywhat Chrissy is showing her).
Which means I’m sunk.
My apartment is about to turn into a menagerie.
But I find I don’t really care.
Because if it means she keeps smiling like that, I’ll fill this fucking place with kittens.
Because if Briar stays long enough for me to make her safe, to let me love her again…
I’d give her the world.
TWENTY-FOUR
BRIAR
So…cats.
Or kittens, really.
I can’t quite understand the sharp turn my life has taken over the last twenty-four hours, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my life, it’s to adapt, press forward, and worry about the consequences later.
And take advantage of kittens when the opportunity presents.
“They’re adorable,” I murmur, passing Chrissy’s phone back. “I’ll figure out a way to get some supplies?—”
Chrissy waves a hand. “Oh, not a chance.”
“I—”
“We—the charity—provide everything. It’s a big ask already to foster a rambunctious litter of fluffballs.”
“But—”
“Litter box and litter, food and bowls, toys, brushes, carriers—they all go home with people who adopt. And for our foster moms and dads we add scratching posts and towers, water dispensers, plus everything else in multiples.”
She smiles and it’s nice and sweet and I try to tamp down the guilt I’m feeling.
Something that doesn’t work.
Because she and her friends came by with food and have been really kind, even after I panicked and ended up doing things in the bedroom with Brooks that really shouldn’t happen with company present.
And still, when I came out, my hair no doubt mussed and the evidence of what we did (something I’mnotthinking about) written into the blush on my cheeks, they didn’t comment.
Instead, I found out Chrissy had called her friend, Rory, and asked her to bring me clothes and shoes.
And makeup and shampoo.
