When the door opens, Isabella looks… surprised, but not in a way that makes me regret being here.
Her eyes drop immediately to her cat.
“Well,” she says, stepping back to let us in. “This explains a lot.”
“I swear I didn’t kidnap him,” I utter, walking past into her house once she motions for me to come in. “He just showed up. At the ice cream place. I didn’t—” I stop, because the explanation feels unnecessary. “I figured you might want him back.”
“I usually do, yes.”
There’s a hint of warmth in her voice—amusement, maybe—but it’s toned down. She closes the door behind me, and for a second we just stand there, the silence pressing tightly around us.
I lower the cat carefully to the floor. He chirps, then stretches once and immediately walkspast both of us in search of better things to do than watch two women try to talk to each other.
“Unbelievable,” Isabella says under her breath.
I almost smile. “What’s the story with the cat?”
She exhales, like she already knows how this sounds. “Someone left a whole litter at the rink. Nina managed to place most of them with the locals.”
“And him?”
“He didn’t go.” A small pause. “He was… annoyingly perfect. Sweet, cuddly, and followed me around with these shiny, enamored eyes.”
I glance down the hallway where he disappeared. “That cat?”
She shakes her head lightly. “I was supposed to keep him for a few days. Just until we found him something more permanent.”
“And?”
Her mouth lifts slightly. “The asshole never left.”
I let out a quiet laugh, the sound catching me a little off guard. “So he decided for you?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s bold,” I say, glancing in the direction of the hallway again. “I respect it.”
She huffs out something that’s almost a laugh.
I push off the wall, a little lighter now, like the whole thing is easier than it was a minute ago. “Honestly, good for him. I would also choose to live here. If I were a cat, of course.”
She watches me. There’s a long pause, and it feels like all the air in the room has been sucked out.
“You think you’d last?” she asks, taking a step closer to me.
I shrug, moving closer in her direction without really thinking about it. “I adapt easily.”
Isabella’s gaze drops briefly to my lips, I think, and then back up again.
“Mm,” she hums, like she doesn’t quite believe me. Or like she’s considering it.
I stop just short of her. Close enough now that I can see the shift in her expression, the ease from a second ago giving way to a quieter kind of focus. Heavier. Totally loaded.
Neither of us moves.
“Careful.” Her voice wraps around the word like a teasing warning. “That’s how he got in.”
I almost smile. “Yeah?”
