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That look.

The one that makes me short-circuit and question if this is really happening or if I’m in a deep REM sleep, having the best dream of my life.

“Is this what you need?”

“Yes.” My chest falls with a heavy breath. I grab the bucket and take a step back to get some perspective. At this rate, we’ll never get the cage cleaned if I don’t dial in. “This is where we store Chili.”

We crouch beside the cage, holding the box next to the opening.

“Careful,” I say as Vinny starts to open it. “He’s fast.”

“I remember.”

After a brief game of keep-away around one of the wooden platforms, Vinny manages to scoop Chili up. I hold the carrier, positioning it so that the moment the rodent is inside, we can snap the lid shut.

“That was the easy part.” I glance at the cage.

“Eh, we got this.” Vinny immediately goes into work mode, pulling out the food bowl, hay feeder, and toys, piling everything on the floor around us until we’re surrounded. He pulls out the bottom tray and immediately recoils. “I can’t believe you agreed to house this thing.”

“Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not. I’m just wondering how one tiny living thing can produce this much poop.”

“This is why I haven’t cleaned it yet. It’s intimidating.”

“Now I see why you invited me here.” He grins back at me. “I thought it was because you wanted to hang out. But really, it was so you had someone to do the dirty work for you.”

I laugh. “You caught me red-handed.”

“That’s alright. I’m willing to do pretty much anything to spend time with you”—he shoots me a charming smile—“if you haven’t noticed.”

My cheeks burn, so I turn away and reach for the rag and cleaner. “I’ll do some of the dirty work too. We’ll be even.”

It takes us fifteen minutes to wipe everything down, replace the bedding, refill Chili’s hay and water, and put everything back in its proper place. Vinny lets Chili out of the carrier, and we both stand back to admire our work.

Chili hops onto the freshly cleaned bottom level and immediately poops.

“I hate that animal with a passion,” he mutters.

“I think he did it just to spite us,” I say, turning to Vinny. My eyes drop to his shirt where a few pieces of hay are stuck on the fabric. “You’re a mess.” Without thinking, I run my hands down his chest but freeze when I realize what I’m touching.

Solid bricks.

Pecs, to be exact.

Vinny’s pecs.

Since when did Vinny the boy turn into Vinny the ripped man?

He snickers, pulling my eyes up to his face.

“Sorry!” I pull back immediately, palms in the air like I’m being arrested. “I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“Assault me?” He laughs. “It’s okay. I thought it was cute.”

“This whole thing is so weird.” I cover my face with my fingers. “I don’t even know how to act.”

“Just be Emma. That’s all I want.”