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“So are you.” Prince Francis yowls from inside my car. “I should go before he gets angry and rage poops on my seat.”
“Probably smart.” Miles kisses me one last time, then carefully opens the car door, but only enough that I can slip inside, and Prince Francis doesn’t have time to make a break for it. As soon as I’m behind the wheel, Prince Francis hops up on the back of the seat and stands on my shoulders, his tail whipping me in the cheek as he scratches at the window and meows at Miles.
I buckle in and turn the engine over, then give him a chin scratch. “We’re going to have a sleepover at my place tonight.”
I back out of the driveway, waving one last time at Miles before I head home with Prince Francis draped over my shoulders. I’m in an amazing mood when I pull into the driveway. Both my mom’s and my sister’s cars are here.
I don’t try to put Prince Francis in his cage, opting for a football carry. His little legs flail, like he’s air running. “Just a few seconds and you’ll be able to explore, I promise.” I open the front door—it’s unlocked—and call out as I close it behind me. “Mom! Hattie! I have a surprise visitor!”
My sister comes bounding down the stairs. “Did you bring your boyfriend home with you?” she shouts, skidding down the last few steps. She grabs the newel post and manages to avoid falling on her butt.
“Kitty has a boyfriend?” Mom appears in the foyer.
I give Hattie an unimpressed look. “That would have made things really awkward if I wasn’t alone.”
“Not more awkward than the two of you making out in the middle of the bar for half an hour.”
“It wasn’t that long.” At least I don’t think it was. It didn’t feel that long. Maybe a minute or two.
“What’s this about a boyfriend?” My mom’s face lights up like fireworks on the May long weekend.
“Kitty has a boyfriend. I met him last week when he showed up at the pub. His name is Miles,” Hattie tells my mom, then turns back to me. “Bryce was hella disappointed, FYI. He thinks you’re intergalactically hot.” She makes air quotes around intergalactically hot.
“I’m never going to forgive you for seating me beside him. He thinks E.T. is real.”
“How do you know he isn’t?” Hattie quirks a brow.
“If aliens exist, they’ll be way more aerodynamic than E.T. His legs are three inches long. And why the heck does his finger light up? It’s like he’s a distant relative of Rudolph.”
“What is happening right now? Why are you talking about E.T.? And who are Bryce and Miles?” Mom interrupts.
“I went out with Hattie last week. I ended up sitting beside an alien studies major named Bryce, and then Miles showed up. He’s my friend, though, not my boyfriend.” Who I’ve slept with. So friend probably isn’t the right term either, but we haven’t put a label on it. Up until last night we were two people who had kissed and were planning to go on a date. Now we’ve upgraded to being naked together, and my private parts have hugged his private parts.
“He’s definitely more than a friend, considering the way you two were playing dueling tongues.” Hattie smirks at me.
“Dueling tongues?” Mom asks.
I give Hattie another look, and she arches one brow and then the other before they both drop down, like an elevator suddenly losing a floor. And then they jump up again.
I look away, feeling very, very exposed. “She’s exaggerating. And he’s taking me on a date next week. Or weekend. I’m not sure. I’ve been sitting for his mother’s cat. Which brings me back to our new houseguest.” I look around for Prince Francis, but he’s disappeared. “Shoot. I don’t know where he went.”
“Where who went? Not the alien?”
“No Mom, there are no aliens.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Hattie replies.
“I mean in the house. I didn’t bring one home with me. I brought Prince Francis.”
“I thought your boyfriend’s name was Miles. Or was that Bryce? I don’t think it’s a great idea to date three different people at the same time. It sends the wrong message, even if one of them is royalty. Especially if one of them is royalty.” Mom crosses her arms.
“Prince Francis is a cat, not an actual prince. Hold on. I need to find him.” I whistle and reach into my pocket, but I don’t have the baggie of treats I normally carry with me. I rush back out to the car to grab his litter box and my supply of treats, shaking the container and calling Prince Francis’s name. A few moments later he comes trotting out of the kitchen.
“Oh my cuteness!” Hattie drops to the floor, crosses her legs, and pats her knees enthusiastically. “Give me the treats. I want him to love me. How long is he staying? Please say forever.” She holds a hand out palm up, and I set the container in it. She nearly drops it, but recovers before it hits the floor. She places a treat on her knee, waiting for Prince Francis to sniff her out and take the bait. “He looks like a little pink gremlin. Or one of the adorable house elves from Harry Potter.”
