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I chuckle. “People called us that all the time. The coincidence of our names was the icebreaker in our grade nine drama class. After that, we were basically an extension of each other through high school.”
“And you’re still friends now?”
“Oh yeah. She owns Kat’s Cat Café. I have an office in there that I use for paperwork and scheduling, and in exchange I help Kat with her social media posts. Which I need to remember to do this weekend. Anyway, the café is exactly what it sounds like: a coffee shop full of cats you can hang out with while you drink tea or coffee. It’s pretty popular.”
“We have a dog café close to the park, and I think maybe there’s a cat café close by, but I haven’t really paid attention since I only have Wilfred.” Miles taps the steering wheel.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there is one. Doggy treat bakeries have been popular for a while, but cat cafés are starting to gain traction. If you weren’t at risk of exploding by going in one, I’d offer to take you.”
“I’ve only had that one reaction, and I have more tests coming up in a few weeks since my allergy to cats isn’t bad enough to put me in the hospital.”
“So they still haven’t figured out what you’re allergic to?” That makes me nervous, because it means it could happen again.
“Not yet, no. I’ve got the EpiPen with me until we figure it out.”
I tap my lips. “Hmm. I wonder what you reacted to.”
Miles shrugs. “Dunno. They told me to track my diet to see if it could be food related, but all I’ve deduced so far is that I eat a lot of salt and vinegar chips. And fries. Lots of fries.”
I poke him in the side. “It doesn’t show.”
“One of these days it’ll catch up with me, and my two-pack will become a zero-pack.”
I laugh. “You have at least a four-pack.”
“Tonight, I have a full eight-pack though.” He pats the foam abs that cover his torso, then turns right into a subdivision.
It’s in an estate subdivision outside of the city. The houses here are on huge lots, set back from the road, giving them ample room to decorate for Halloween. And decorate they do. “Oh wow, this is amazing. These houses are incredible!”
We’ve lived in the same house since I was born. It’s a quaint two-story, three-bedroom house in a quiet neighborhood in a small town about forty-five minutes outside of the city—without traffic, anyway. And there’s always traffic. It suits the three of us just fine, but this is a whole different level of house.
These are designed to be beautiful and to wow people with their long, winding driveways covered in interlocking stone, manicured lawns and gardens, and grand front doors. And every house on the street is decorated for Halloween. I don’t just mean there are a couple of fake RIP headstones stuck in the lawn with a skeleton trying to claw its way out of the earth.
One lawn has a carriage drawn by skeleton horses, driven by a skeleton wearing a suit and a top hat. Another has a group of witches in front of a cauldron that’s somehow lit up from the inside, casting a ghastly green glow over the witch faces.
“A bunch of the guys on the team live here, and they go all out for the holidays. There are a lot of families with kids, so they make it exciting for them.”
“I can see that.” I can only imagine what the collective income would be in a neighborhood like this.
Less than a minute later we pull into a circular driveway lined with cars. Like all the others, this one is also decorated for the holiday, but instead of being ghastly and full of scary things and skeletons, it’s whimsical and cute. There’s a girl skeleton with a bow in her hair walking a skeleton dog. Friendly ghosts hang from the trees, and spiderwebs with adorable spiders span the front porch.
My nerves kick in as Miles parks the car and hops out. His cape flares impressively as he rushes around the hood to open the passenger door for me. And my hormones flare when he holds out his hand and helps me out. He doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he pulls me closer, and I tip my chin up.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve said this already, but you look amazing. Not that you don’t always look amazing, because you do. But I’m going to be totally honest. As a teen I had a serious crush on Catwoman, like posters on my walls beside my bed kind of crush, so this is like a fantasy come to life.”
“Batman was always my favorite superhero.” I run my hand over his foam pecs.
“Oh really?”
“I loved that he was a regular guy who wanted to make the world a better place and was a total badass doing it.” Miles is wearing the Batman mask, so only the bottom half of his face is visible. It draws attention to his strong chin and his full, very kissable lips.
