Page 9 of My Favorite Hero

I knew now where Casey had slept.

She had pushed the furniture closer to the window, and perched on the arm, staring at me, was her cat. He was a tabby—big, with a round face and bright-green eyes. He stared back at me, nonplussed, then stood, stretched, and jumped down, crossing over to me. He sniffed, then wound around my legs, meowing.

“What do you want?” I asked.

He meowed again, using my leg to stretch, his paw reaching up. Unsure, I scratched his head, shocked when he jumped, leaving me no choice but to catch him. He climbed my chest, resting his head on my shoulder, purring loudly.

I had no idea what to do. Usually, cats avoided me. Not hugged me.

“Oh, he likes you!” Casey’s voice startled me, and I turned to face her.

She was in jeans again, a long plaid shirt tied at her hips. Her Doc Martens were in place, and her hair was swept up in a long ponytail, a ribbon of silk hanging over her shoulder.

I blinked.

A ribbon of silk?

What the fuck was I thinking something like that for?

“It jumped up,” I said.

“He only does that if he likes you.” She set down a few bags and another can of paint.

“What is the paint for?” I demanded. “I just painted.”

“I know. It’s a little bland. I wanted to add some color.”

“We need to establish some rules,” I informed her.

“Okay,” she said, perching on the same arm of the sofa her cat had just vacated.

“First off, no renovations or painting without permission.”

“Got it.”

“You’re responsible for paying your utilities on time.”

She nodded. “Right.”

“Your rent is due first of the month.”

“How much is it?” she asked.

I floundered since I hadn’t thought about that.

“Five hundred.”

“Okay.”

“No parties.”

Her lips quirked. “Since I don’t know anyone here, not a problem.”

“No drugs.”

“Even Tylenol?” she asked.

I had a feeling she was laughing at me.