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By the time I make it to the alleyway between the gas station and repair shop, big, heavy drops of rain are starting to fall from the dark sky, pelting the ground.
It’s still light, but the size and coldness of each raindrop tells me that this is going to be a vicious downpour before too long.
I just had dinner at a ramen place in Cedar Shade. The place has great food, is usually quiet, and is run by a laconic middle-aged Japanese man who doesn’t ask you how you’re doing, doesn’t smile at you when you walk in, and doesn’t expect you to smile back. He just takes your order and serves it up. My kind of guy.
When I left and realized just how bad of a storm this is brewing to be, I thought of the cat.
I just want to make sure she’s not out here in the alley where she always is, that she’s found some kind of shelter to ride out the storm.
I let out a long whistle that echoes down the alley. “Anyone home?” I call out.
Silence. For a moment. But then I hear telltale rustling behind the usual trashcan.
“I know you’re there, furball,” I say gruffly, making no effort to do that weird thing with my voice that most people do when talking to animals or young children. I hate when people do that.
A feline sound that’s still not a quite a meow, but not as hostile as the hiss I’m used to, sounds from behind the trashcan. Tentatively, the cat shows herself.
I walk towards her, slowly so as not to make her run for it. Even though she’s never ran away from me before. Just swiped at me with her claws whenever I tried to touch her.
The rain starts to fall harder. The drops are freezing. The cat is tensed up, even more than usual. Her body language makes it clear she’s not a fan of the rain. If she had anywhere to go to get out of this rain, she wouldn’t be here right now.
“Shit,” I say. “I can’t let you stay out here. This is gonna be a fucking downpour.”
The cat pads closer to me, looking up with a little less hostility in her eyes than usual. She lets out a low, rough purr.
I kneel down. For the first time, she lets me run my palm down her back, a low noise rumbling from her.
“You wanna come home with me?”
She looks at me and lets out a soft, almost inaudible meow.
For the first time, she lets me scoop her up. I can feel how tense she is in my arms. Her expression is still unsure, like she has half a mind to jump out of my arms and ride out the storm here in this alley, trying to find shelter behind trash cans or under discarded plastic bags if she has to.
But she doesn’t. She stays in my arms.
Maybe this cat isn’t so nasty after all. Maybe she does want a human, a home. Maybe she’s just had some bad experiences that make it hard for her to trust. Maybe she has trouble even knowing how to show what she wants.
With her snuggled against my chest, I hurry home as the rain starts to come down harder. I don’t even know if we’re allowed to have pets where I live.
Pets? Am I going to keep this cat?
Her eyes close, and she nuzzles her fluffy side against my chest. I imagine bringing her back out to that dirty, stinky alleyway after the rain passes. Taking her from my warm, safe room and putting her right back in the environment that made her so miserable and lonely.
Fuck, I guess I am going to keep this cat.
I’ve never been a pet guy before. I guess I’ll have some more googling to do.
When I step through the door, the rest of the guys are in the living room. Their foreheads furrow as their eyes fall on the animal nuzzled in my arms.
Sebastian tilts his head. Tuck opens his mouth to say something, but he’s at a loss for words as he takes in the unexpected sight of me carrying a furry cat. Rhys cocks an eyebrow. Lane’s brows draw together.
I look back at the guys silently for a beat.
“I have a cat now,” I announce. Then, I go to my room and introduce her to her new home.
7
SUMMER
