Chapter 18 #2
Flopping back on the couch, I cover my face with my hands. They smell like cookies instead of cum now, which I suppose is progress. “Everything is a nightmare.”
“Is it Rome?”
I haven’t really told her much about what’s going on with the dates and the grade book I decided to use.
The last several days were a major distraction, my mind solely on Rome and how to get him to want me.
I feel slightly bad that I haven’t disclosed this all to her, so I spend several minutes blurting it all out, and by the time I’m done, her nose is scrunched up.
“You need to stop taking advice from your brother. He’s a complete dipshit.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but it sounded like fun.”
“And is it? Because it sounds to me like you’re having a crisis, and this weird grade book thing isn’t helping.”
“It’s not about the grades,” I tell her. “I mean, that whole thing isn’t serious. If I want to fuck him, I’ll fuck him. But…” She waits patiently, staring as I try to find the right words. “I don’t know if I should let myself fall for him.”
At that, she bursts into laughter. “Oh, honey, as if you could stop yourself. You’ve been in love with that asshole since you and I were together.”
My chest burns with a flush that creeps toward my neck. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it was. It made saying yes to Drew so much easier. I wasn’t just giving you shit about it, you know,” she said, softer and gentler this time. “It was obvious to everyone but you.”
“I was just pissed off about the way he left.”
“Yes,” she says slowly, “because you wanted his penis. And his heart. And his heart-penis.”
“I hate you.”
She grins. “I know.” Leaning back, she kicks the edge of her foot up on the table. “Have you told him how you feel?”
“No,” I groan. “If I do that, he’ll run screaming in the other direction.”
“Yeah, I very much doubt that. A man who only wants to get into your pants isn’t going to put himself through all this. That dude is hot. He can get laid anywhere. With anyone.”
That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. Rome is ridiculously attractive. The grumpy asshole thing he has going on draws people in like moths to a flame in the club scene.
That he went home with me that night says something.
Doesn’t it?
“You two need to communicate. You speak his language now. You have no excuse.”
Ugh, I hate that she’s right again. “Stop being reasonable and comfort me.”
“If you want someone to listen to your bullshit and not tell you when you’re wrong, get a dog.”
I meet her gaze. “How about a cat?”
“No, thank you. A cat will eat you if you die.”
God, she and Rome are going to end up best friends, aren’t they?
Spin class ends up canceled when only two people register. It’s not uncommon. Half the attendees signed up for memberships as a misguided New Year’s resolution, and most of them lasted a lot longer than I expected them to. But this is the time of year we usually see a dramatic drop in attendance.
I make a note to cancel the class entirely if this becomes a trend and then decide to hit the free weights for a while because I’ve been slacking, and if I want to get as handsy with Rome as I fantasize about, I can’t let myself lose any muscle mass.
On my way out, I catch Thom’s gaze. He’s behind the desk, chatting to Leaf, who waves me over. I have time to make a small pit stop, so I lean against the counter and bump fists with him.
His knuckles are caked in dirt.
“Do I want to know what you’ve been doing?”
Leaf pulls a face. “Not unless you have time for a six-hour Michael rant.”
I do not. “CliffsNotes?”
“It’s not important,” Leaf tells me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m heading back to the cat café. I’m gonna talk to one of the owners about adopting a kitten.”
Leaf grimaces. “Uh…I saw their Instagram page, dude. It doesn’t look like they have kittens. I’m not convinced those cats aren’t rabid.”
I wave him off. “They were sweet. Just…kind of old and in need of some TLC.”
Thom gets big puppy eyes. “Aww. Neglected kitties?”
“Go over there and check them out,” I tell him. “Don’t take Robbie.” There’s a ninety-eight percent chance Thom decides to bring one home, and Robbie’s rage will be epic.
And hilarious.
Thom jumps on his phone, and I push away from the desk. “Anyway, you good for the week, or do you need me to drop by for anything?”
Leaf waves me off. “Nah, we’re good for now. But maybe come by for dinner sometime. I have new neighbors, and I was thinking about having Thorne grill and inviting them over.”
I nod. The idea isn’t the worst. I could bring Rome with me if he’s free, which could be an interesting test to see how he treats me when we’re around all our friends.
We haven’t done that since the welcome home party, which hadn’t gone his way. Or mine. I’ll have to keep him away from Robbie’s gummies though.
Whoever he gets those from is a fucking troll.
“Text me about it,” I say, then head out to my car to make the drive across town.
There’s no traffic, so I pull into the café parking lot just minutes after my appointment time is meant to start. I’m the only one there, it looks like, which makes me sad for the cats. I’m not sure these animals are pulling in customers like they hoped.
Pulling open the door, I see the guy who was at the coffee bar last time at the welcome counter.
Percy, I think his name was? He’s shorter than his other two brothers, but he makes up for it in the bulkiness of his arms. I wonder if he has a home gym.
“Hey,” he says when I approach. His voice has that same raspy quality I’d heard when he called out our drinks. Last time, I thought it was a cold, but now I’m wondering if maybe that’s just him. “Appointment?”
“Yeah. Under Dex,” I say. “Is Milo in?”
Percy doesn’t smile. In fact, he looks threatening as hell as he nods. “Yeah. You have a problem with him, or—”
My eyes widen, and my heart ends up in my throat. “What? Oh my god, no. I wanted to talk to him about some cat stuff.”
Those shoulders relax instantly. “Oh. Yeah, this whole thing is his baby, so he’s definitely the man to help.”
“Are you his dad?” I chance.
Percy’s face erupts into a blush over the top of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. “Wow.”
“Um…”
“He’s my brother.”
Fuck. “I’m so sorry.” I always fucking do this.
He stares at me hard for a moment, then cracks the smallest smile. “No, it’s fine. I have fifteen years on that little shit. Sometimes it feels like I gave birth to him.”
I laugh. “Butt births, dude? No, thanks.”
His eyes widen. “No, I—” He stops, and his smile gets a little bigger as he shrugs. “Yeah, something like that. Anyway.” He hands me my little sticker with the number on it. “Go on in. Enjoy your hour.”
The room is almost the same as it was the first time I was here with Rome. The cats are mostly snoozing, though I notice the one with the half tail is nowhere to be found.
Their big grand opening doesn’t seem to have attracted the flood of customers I was expecting from a place that requires reservations. It’s probably everything to do with the geriatric garbage cats, but that makes me sad.
They deserve love too.
The side door opens, and suddenly, Milo walks out, peeling latex gloves off his hands. Though he was probably just cleaning the litter room, there’s something strangely ominous about the way he does it.
It makes me think of that TV show about the serial killer guy who everyone was in love with.
He smiles, though, and tips his hand from the side of his head. ‘Hi.’
‘What’s up?’ I sign back, then freeze. ‘You Deaf?’ I can’t imagine he is. Out of all the brothers, his signs are the worst.
He frowns. ‘No.’
‘Why are we signing?’
‘You’re Deaf.’
I blink and switch my voice on. “No. I’m hearing.
” He jolts, and I roll my eyes a little—mostly at myself.
“Sorry. My…” Oh god, what even is Rome to me?
Not a boyfriend. Lover sounds ridiculous.
Hookup sounds wrong. And are we even friends?
“Guy, person…I was here with last time,” I stumble and feel my shoulders slump. Real smooth. “He’s Deaf.”
Milo nods. “Ah. Well. Welcome back. Why isn’t he here?”
“Work stuff,” I say. I don’t tell him Rome is convinced cats have a vendetta against him. I walk over to the adoption wall and see that Fuzzeroli, the tailless cat, is gone. “Aww, one got adopted?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Milo says.
What does that mean?
I turn around when I feel a nudge against my calf and glance down. There’s one round eye blinking up at me. It’s Dennis, and somehow, he looks even more feral. The right side of his mouth is pulled up to show a single fang.
‘Hey, bud,’ I sign. I kneel and offer my fingers. He sniffs for a moment, then nudges my hand.
Milo makes a small noise. “Oh. He likes you. He hates almost everyone.” As if to prove his statement, he takes a step closer, and Dennis turns his head and hisses.
“Well, he’s…special.” I don’t really know what to say about these cats. They’re really not normal. “I actually had a couple of questions for you about caring for a cat.”
Milo’s walking toward a storage closet. “Go for it.”
“I mean, they’re easy, right?”
“Uh…”
“They’re not like dogs, I mean. You don’t have to walk them or crate train or any of that shit.”
Milo pulls out a pet carrier and fusses with the latch. “Nope. I think they’re kind of ideal for people who don’t want to actively give out affection all the time. You kind of just sit around and wait for them to tell you they want to be pet.”
“And if someone has, say, a busy work schedule?”
“They’re pretty self-sufficient, especially if you get an automatic litter box. But if you’re never going to be home—”
“Oh, no. I’m home, just…I own the gym down the street. PUMPT?”
Milo smirks. “Oh. I know about it.”
I also don’t know what he means by that—or his tone. But I kind of don’t want to. “I run most of the classes, so my schedule can be kind of weird, but otherwise, I’m kind of a loser who does nothing.”