Ivy stands inside the entryway, holding the cat, eyes moving slowly over the room like she’s cataloging it.
I set the supplies on the floor, shrug off my jacket, and hang it on the hook by the door, watching her from the corner of my eye. She doesn’t move. She’s waiting. Not because she’s unsure but because she wants to see what I’ll do next.
I step closer.
“Shoes off,” I say quietly. “And let Mr. Pickles roam.”
She obeys without a word.
Something tightens low in my chest.
I gesture toward the kitchen. “Water?”
“Yes.”
I grab the litter box and pour litter into it, then reach for the bag of food. She follows me into the kitchen.
I pour two glasses and slide one across the counter. She leans back against it instead of taking a seat, eyes never leaving me. I catch the faintest smile at the corner of her mouth.
“Has the cat eaten yet?”
She shakes her head.
Mr. Pickles makes his way into the kitchen, eyes darting everywhere. I squat down, waiting until he reaches me.
“Which one do you want to try, bud?” I slide the food closer, letting him smell it. When he lingers on one, I grab the can and open it.
Ivy moves, but I give her a look that stops her in her tracks. “Nope. It’s my turn to take care of you.”
Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Green eyes widen with surprise, then awe.
I wash the dish, then put the cat’s food in it. When I set it down, he lunges right for it, chowing down like he’s starving.
Ivy returns to her original position, leaning against the counter. I stand beside her, close enough that the air between us hums.
I enjoy it.
It’s something I never thought I would.
Finally, I break the silence.
“You understand,” I say, “that bringing you here means I’m done pretending this is casual.”
Her fingers curl around the glass. “I was wondering how long it would take you to say that.”
I watch her throat move as she swallows.
“I’m not asking for anything tonight,” I continue. “Just?—”
I stop.
Just what?
Justher.
The realization hits harder than me going to her house in the mask. Harder than her in my bed, in my sheets, breathing me in like she already belonged there.
I straighten.
