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I stick my hands in my pockets, unable to help the smile that overtakes my face. “Yeah, looks like it.”
She sits on the floor cross-legged, giving under the chin scratches and base of the tail pets to my cat who looks like Christmas came twice.
“Have you ever had a cat?”
Boots circles her, coming back for another round of petting.
“No, but a family I lived with did.” She strokes Boots from head to tail. “Whiskers.”
A family she lived with? What does that mean?
“You said you’ve had her for a year?” she asks.
“Yeah, she used to hang around outside. I felt bad for her and started leaving out food.” I kneel, reaching out a hand, and Boots comes to me, rubbing her cheek against my index finger once before returning to Tessa for more pets. “One day, I came home and opened the door, and she waltzed right in alongside me and curled up on the couch like she owned the place.”
“That was sweet of you to let her stay.”
I glance over at her, the expression on her face almost like… admiration. For taking in a cat? That’s a pretty low bar.
The back of my neck burns hot. “I wasn’t going to kick her out,” I mumble, standing and leaning against the arm of the couch so I’m not so close.
Boots curls up in Tessa’s lap, her head tipped to the side for easier access to her chin, purring all the while.
Tessa obliges her, running a gentle hand over the silky fur. “I’m in love.”
My chest tightens at the soft curve of her smile, the murmured words of affection she gives to Boots, the contentment she radiates.
“Anytime you want to come over—you know, to visit her—you can.”
She looks up at me, her smile growing wider. “I’d like that.”
I nod, absent-mindedly rubbing at my chest.
“Could I come over tomorrow night to practice some more?”
How can I say no? “Yes… I mean, no. I have plans.” How mad would Danielle be if I backed out of dinner? No, I won’t do that to her.
“Right.” She waves a hand in my direction. “Obviously you have plans.”
My brows narrow. “What do you meanobviously?” Does she think I’m lying?
She gives me a look like I’m simple. “Because tomorrow’s Saturday night. You probably do cool things every weekend. I’m lucky enough you were free tonight.”
She thinks I’m… cool?
“What do you think I do on the weekend?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Parties. Dates. Bars. Other generally social things.”
I bring a hand up to cover my grin. Is that how she sees me? What would she say if I told her I pretty much never do those things?
“I’m having dinner with my family. But I’m free Sunday.”
Her cheeks pinken the slightest bit. “Okay, Sunday. How about seven again? And I’ll bring my notes about applying to the university. I’m still researching a few things.”
I forgot I made that stupid request. What was I thinking?
“Yeah, great.” Now I can sit through a reminder that college isn’t in the cards for me, despite her assurances the other day that it’s a possibility.
