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Thatch nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty big on the asshole licking. Is that normal?”

“Um, yes. Actually, that’s very normal,” she responded as she opened a drawer by the dog’s cage. “Cats are predators. Their instincts are to clean themselves to avoid being scented by their prey.”

Thatch smirked at me while Julie, the vet tech, was busy rummaging through a drawer full of collars and leashes. “Maybe we should start licking your tits to see if it’d help deter horny motherfuckers from staring,” he whispered.

I cocked an eyebrow. “We?”

He shrugged. “Figured you’d need help. Most chicks can’t get their tongues to their nipples without pulling a muscle in the process.”

“That’s very generous of you, but there’s no risk of injury when it comes to sucking on my own tits.”

His eyes heated, and he stepped closer. “Prove. It.”

I grinned. “Make. Me.”

“Here it is!” Julie yelled victoriously, waving a collar and leash in the air.

“This conversation isn’t over, honey,” Thatch muttered.

“Meh, I’m already over it,” I retorted before turning my attention to Julie. “That collar looks a little small for that dog.” I nodded toward the cage she was in the process of unlatching.

“It’s not for him, it’s for Walter,” Julie said with a laugh. Before she unhooked the final latch, she stopped abruptly. “I almost forgot the gloves!” she said, grabbing an oversized pair from the counter beside her.

“Gloves?” Thatch questioned, eyebrows raised.

“When Walter gets upset, he tends to scratch a lot.”

“Okay…but why are you opening that dog’s cage? You know Walter is a cat, right?”

I glanced at Thatch, and it was apparent I wasn’t the only one confused.

“Walter is inside this cage,” she answered.

“What?” we said at the same time.

Julie nodded and opened the cage door. She nudged the giant dog to the side, and sure enough, there was the little dickhead, curled up against the dog’s back.

“This is Walter’s new friend?” I asked, eyes wide and shocked.

When Bob had called, he’d said the vet had warned him that The Asshole had a new friend he wasn’t too keen on being removed from. I had assumed it was a cat, a female cat, but apparently my assumptions about Georgia’s little buddy were dead wrong. And judging by the size of the balls on the dog he was curled up to, this little dickhead was on Team Dean.

“Yep,” Julie announced on a whisper as she attempted to pick up Walnuts carefully without waking him. “Walter has really taken a liking to Stan here.”

I glanced at Thatch and knew the second he got an eyeful of Stan’s gonads.

“Seems there’s a bigger reason behind Walter’s enjoyment of tossing his own salad.”

I snorted in laughter, and Julie just glanced over her shoulder, confusion stamped on her face.

This poor girl. She was so sweet, and yet somehow, she’d managed to pull the short straw and get stuck with Thatch and me. Two assholes who had no filters.

And all at once, it hit me.

Thatch and I were very alike. Almost too alike.

I stared at him, taking in his stupid, sexy smirk. Jesus. He was the guy version of me.

“You okay, honey?” he asked, his gaze catching on the befuddled expression gracing my face.

“Yep,” I answered, averting my eyes and trying like hell to forget that revelation.

But I couldn’t.

If opposites attracted, then what in the hell was happening between numbnuts and me?

An ear-piercing shriek grabbed my attention.

“It’s okay, Walter,” Julie cooed as she tried to disentangle his paws from the cage.

Was he fucking holding on to the cage door?

More shrieking and clawing echoed inside the large room. Other pets started to take notice, standing up in their cages and watching shit hit the fan before their curious eyes.

Stan woke up from his slumber and started barking like a banshee. And within minutes, the entire room was filled with barking and growling and cages rattling.

“Holy fucking shit!” I covered my ears.

“This looks like a bit of a problem, Julie,” Thatch shouted over the rising noise.

She just nodded, sweat dripping from her forehead, and resumed wrestling with Walter, who now had the support of his boyfriend. Stan’s teeth were wrapped around the leash connected to Walter’s collar, and he was tugging the cat back into the cage.

“Hey, Julie, you guys wouldn’t happen to offer pet boarding services would you?” Thatch’s voice boomed over the barks.

“Yes, sir, we do!”

“Fantastic!” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s go ahead and let Walter spend more time with Ol’ Stan here, and I’ll just cover boarding until my buddy and his wife get back from their honeymoon.”

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