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Instead, we cycle to easier conversation. And in it, I discover a plethora of shared favorites except we lived in two different worlds. Working in restaurants, I was always getting off work when he was fast asleep, and he was going into work as I slept soundly. Even still, it truly was only a matter of time until we crossed paths.

Bark!

Beanie runs up to us at full speed, her tail wagging away in pride.

“Finally all done?” John groans, getting to his feet, pulling a bag and hand sanitizer from his pocket. “I’ll be right back, and then we should head out. It’s getting late.”

I want to argue. But he’s right.

***

The returning walk is peaceful.

“There used to be a lot more cats out,” John comments as we make it back to our apartment’s parking lot.

“I took a bunch to get spayed. Trying to help where I can.” I shrug.

John comes to an abrupt stop. He rounds on me, invading my space.

His arm extends, his hand hovering centimeters away from my cheek, as if physically stopping himself from touching me. “Who are you, Cinnamon?”

The shift in energy is so sudden that I don’t know what to do or why.

The air grows thick between us. Too much all at once, and I jolt away.

Somehow I manage to tangle in Beanie’s leash and take us both to the ground. I should be the one to land on my back, but he turns us at the last second, taking the brunt of the fall.

My frizzy hair is a curtain around us, my lips graze his, our noses brush.

Electricity jolts through me. Shocking me all the way to my core.

“I’m bad luck,” I whisper softly, answering his question the only way I know how.

My confession to John somehow feels incredibly raw.

As if he might steal away with it in the night and ruin me.

His hand comes up again, but this time he doesn’t stop; tucking my hair behind my ears, I can see a thousand emotions flip across his face.

Bark!

A wet tongue finds my hand, and I am reminded that Beanie was caught up in the mess of my creation.

Exactly why I never had a pet. No matter how much I wanted one. No one is safe around me.

But…I want to spend more time with him…

Using the last of my self-control, I roll off of John. “Come up to my apartment?” I force from my lips before I can chicken out. “I’ll make us a snack, and we can hang and watch a movie? Be my protector for a few hours, just in case Bran decides not to leave this whole rat thing alone?” I add at the end, getting to my feet unsteadily.

I don’t think I actually need him to, but some desperate part of me really wants the company. Wants to spend more time with him. My encounter with Durian left me leaving his calls on read and Olive was currently out of town at an event.

I should really text her back though.

John sits up, Beanie taking the invitation to jump in his lap. “You shouldn’t invite strangers into your home.”

“We’re not strangers anymore.” I shrug, pushing down the hurt.

Perhaps I’m delusional in thinking we could be friends…