Chapter 22 #2
“Oh wow, he actually likes you,” Waylon says when he sees CC on my shoulder again. It’s the first time he’s said something to me without a tone of distaste since Jada and I married, and I didn’t realize how much I missed that.
“Yeah, apparently I’m the only one. Or I’m just a good seat.” I shrug and CC licks his paw.
“He hasn’t had a lot of interest from potential homes.” Waylon squats down and pets another cat that’s come to check him out. “He’s standoffish, so we were worried that he just wasn’t friendly with people.”
“Maybe he smells Pip,” I say.
“Maybe. But cats can be decent readers of people.” Waylon gives me a half shrug, his words carrying some weight.
I look at the small herd of cats coming to sniff Waylon, feeling too exposed. What’s he implying? I want to ask, but we’re in the middle of a room of cats and volunteers. Some small glimmer of hope blooms. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m a piece of shit.
But he doesn’t elaborate. He excuses himself to go talk to the volunteer coordinator for a moment, then leaves.
That little piece of hope buoys me throughout the rest of the day, as does CC’s weight on my shoulder. I almost miss him when I head home for the day, but Pip rushes up to me to fill the cat gap.
“Mighty curious, huh?” I say as Pip gives me a full investigation, sniff by sniff. I pet him and he purrs loudly, butting his face against my hands, then my ankles.
He’s attached to my side as I unwind a little but peels off the moment the front door opens. I follow him and watch Jada as she comes inside.
She whips off her bra as soon as her shoes are off, then pets Pip.
Her smile when she looks up and sees me makes my heart flip in my chest before I can shut that kind of shit down.
I get ahold of myself and tamp the feelings down to a comfortable level—higher than before we slept together for the first time.
She’s staring at me, her bra still in her hand.
My eyes drift downward to her breasts, then to her face again.
She wants to say something, and I’m not sure if I want to hear what she’s thinking.
But the longer we go without saying anything, the more we’ll push ourselves toward an awkward place again. I don’t want that.
“We need to talk about Nashville,” she says. “About sex. And whatever’s happening. It’s been weighing on me all day and I should have said something this morning.”
I swallow and stretch my legs out in front of me.
“I’d like to keep fucking you,” I say.
It’s the safest option because it’s the clearest truth in my head right now. Everything else is a jumble of new, fluttery feelings mixed with old dread and fear.
“I want that, too,” she says, fidgeting with her locs. “But we’re sort of going backward. Married, then sex, then…whatever’s shifted between us when it comes to feelings.”
My heart starts pounding, even though the shift in our feelings has felt clearer than a sunrise. But hearing her refer to the feelings, even abstractly, forces my hand.
I need to tell her how I feel, flat out. But the last time I did that, I was eventually rejected so hard that I’m still fucked up over it. Jada’s not the same, at all, but I’ve developed a phobia—I know it’s irrational to be afraid of Jada, but I am anyway.
“Do you want to keep it physical? And the rest friendly?” she says before I can speak. “It feels like that might be less complicated since we’re already in a complex situation with the marriage. At least that’s how I’m seeing it.”
“Yeah.” I let out a breath and my shoulders relax. “Let’s just do that. We’ve already made it complicated, so no need to make it even more so.”
“Good.” She smiles again, which diffuses the tension in the room. “I’m going to go change.”
She disappears into the bedroom and comes out a few moments later in leggings and a big Crescent Hill University T-shirt. Pip is on her heels, meowing the way he does when he wants food.
That felt almost too easy, too tidy, but I’m grateful for that right now. This is familiar—sex and friendship. Whatever feelings there are have been pushed into the background. That makes them feel less serious than they might be.
“How was volunteer day?” she asks as she opens the cabinet where she keeps the cat’s food.
“Really good, actually,” I say. “The cat that crashed through the ceiling is still there and he liked me. Or at least he didn’t hate me. He rode around on my shoulder for a lot of the time we were there. He hasn’t warmed up to many people even though he likes other cats.”
“Really? Poor thing.”
“Yeah. Waylon said he hasn’t gotten a lot of interest.”
“Wait…maybe…” She rests a hand on her hip and looks at Pip. “Pip still likes looking at that spot where the other cat crashed through the ceiling. I’ve thought about getting another cat…”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and starts tapping around.
“You want to adopt him?” I ask.
“I mean, I could meet him and see. I’ve always wanted another cat, and if he already has an affinity for this place, why not see? He needs a home.” She shrugs. “He’d be coming home, if you think about it. Would you be okay if I adopted him?”
“Yeah, it’s your place and he’d be your cat. I don’t mind Pip at all.” I’ve never lived in one place long enough to even consider adopting a pet, so I guess this would be close enough for me to get the experience.
“Okay, great. Hopefully I’ll get to meet him in the next few days. I think Pip would do well with another cat to burn off his energy.”