Page 45 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

I stare at him, but he just grins, like he’s enjoying this far more than he should be, and something about it makes my stomach do a small, unnecessary flip.

“Cat fan?” he asks me suddenly, and for a second I have no idea what he’s talking about, before I remember the ears, and I glance down at my costume.

“Oh.” I tug lightly on the edge of my coat. “No. I hate cats.”

His eyebrows lift immediately. “You hate cats?”

“My sister had this costume in her cupboard,” I explain quickly. “It was either this or an inflatable dinosaur.”

“If you hate cats, you should have come as the dinosaur,” he remarks, and I shrug.

“If I’d come as the dinosaur I wouldn’t have fit onto the Tube.”

He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head slowly. “You really hate cats?”

“Yes.”

“But that can’t be true.”

I blink. “Why not?”

“Because no one hates cats.”

I fold my arms. “Well, I do.”

He considers this like it’s a complex statistical anomaly. “Are you allergic to them?”

“No.”

“Did one attack you?”

“No.”

“Did you perhaps grow up with a dog that encouraged bias against feline species?”

“No.” I stare at him. “You’re analysing my relationship with cats like it’s a dataset.”

“Well, I like datasets.” Abruptly, his eyes sweep over me. “And I like cats too. Especially when their ears light up.”

Something in his voice warms my blood, and I chew on my lip, trying not to let it show.

“So,” he carries on lightly. “You got a name, cat-hater?”

Oh. Oh.

It suddenly occurs to me that he’s flirting with me, and I think for a beat, wondering how to respond. Then another thought follows: if my sister can make out with the devil — I can definitely flirt with Steve Jobs. So, I tilt my head slightly, letting my ears wobble.

“Kitty, of course,” I reply coyly.

For a second he looks surprised, before he laughs. The sound is warm and genuine and does something deeply inconvenient to my stomach. God, this guy is just so cute.

“Well, Kitty, if I wanted to get in touch with you again, how would I do so?”

“Well, it’s Halloween. A crystal ball, maybe?”

He laughs again.

“Or you could try something less mystical,” I relent. “Though I can’t promise I’d be as easy to summon without candles and a full moon.”