I led him into the kitchen, and once we were there, he got down on all fours.
My breath caught, and I stared at him. “Toby…”
He meowed at me.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. “You’re so beautiful.”
He nudged my leg with his head, resting against me for a moment before going to the dog bed I hadn’t done anything with. He curled up on it and looked expectantly at me.
I barked out a laugh, realizing he was going to relax while I fixed dinner. I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. He was going to let me take care of him. He was going to be my kitten.
He was going to be my everything.
I grimaced as I looked through the pantry and fridge, finally shaking my head. “About all I have is cereal,” I told him.
He made a face.
“That’s about what I thought,” I told him. “So pizza or Chinese it is, then.”
He nodded.
“Let’s look at a menu,” I said, gesturing for him to follow me.
To my shock, he followed me on all fours, displaying his ass to perfection as he brushed past me and led us both to the living room. He flopped onto the couch, curling up and watching me as I grabbed the binder of menus I kept on hand.
We went over the options together, finally deciding on Chinese food, and I put the order in on my phone.
“And now we wait,” I told him. I started to reach for the remote, but I hesitated. “Do you want to play?”
He meowed at me, and it went straight to my groin. We didn’t have time for anything but maybe a quickie, but I wasn’t ready to relegate our burgeoning sex life to a quickie just yet. We’d wait.
I’d wait.
“Be right back,” I said. I went to the bedroom, then to the closet. I pulled on a shirt and shorts so I’d have something on when the delivery person arrived. I found where I’d stashed the kitty gear after he’d left. I grabbed what I was looking for and grinned, turning back for the living room.
I half-expected him to be gone, the remnants of a dream, maybe, or a horrible taunt of what I could never have.
Instead, he waited in front of the couch, meowing at me again as I returned.
I held up the large jingly ball I’d gotten, still grinning, and I tossed it.
He stared at it for a moment, looking baffled, then he raced after it.
I wished he had the tail in, the ears on his head, but we’d get there slowly.
There was no rush.
I watched him chase the ball around the living room, scrambling along the carpet, and I relaxed against the sofa.
He batted it around, slowly returning to me, then hepushed it closer to me with his nose. I grabbed it, throwing it again. “I thought you weren’t a pup,” I said dryly. “But that’s fine. Fetch.”
He turned and looked at me, plopping down on the floor.
Well, that served me right, didn’t it?
The ball stayed on the other side of the room, but he rejoined me on the couch. There we sat in silence, him curled up against me while I petted him. I imagined I could hear him purr in satisfaction, content and safe next to me — happy because he wanted to be next to me, not pretending.
It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that I reluctantly got up, kissing his brow before I went to the front door to get our food. I brought it back to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table. “Food’s here,” I told him unnecessarily.
