Chapter 9 The Prince & The Paws Luna
The Prince & The Paws
Luna
Am I taking a little too much joy in his discomfort?
Maybe. Do I care? Not in the least. If I’m going to be stuck working with him for the rest of the semester, then I’m going to do everything in my power to make it as tolerable as I can.
And the tense set of his mouth, the slight wrinkle in his perfect brow, let me know he’s not at ease in the situation.
And boy am I glad he wore those white sneakers.
They might not be quite so shiny by the time we’re done here.
Not that he can’t afford a new pair or three.
His family has fuck-you money. An amount I could never even wrap my head around, according to the internet search I gave in to last night.
I didn’t realize my shoulders had crept up to my ears until we step into my favorite room and a chorus of meows welcomes us. My entire body relaxes. My fuzzy favorite comes trotting up to me, butting his little head against my ankles.
“Bluebeard, how’s my handsome boy?” I squat down to stroke a hand down his sleek steel-grey body.
He’s come so far from when he got here, and I’ve got so many mixed emotions about the little guy.
I want him to find his forever home. He deserves it, but I’m going to miss him so much.
He lifts his whiskered face up to peer at me through his one blue eye.
Beau is standing next to me all awkward, shuffling on his feet.
“So, I’m going to ask you two to work in here today. Your favorite,” Damien says with a smile. He turns to Beau. “Don’t worry, Luna is a pro. She’ll show you the ropes. Let me or Carol know if you need anything else. And other than that, enjoy.”
There’s a very subtle twitch of Beau’s right eye as he nods.
“Oh, and feel free to film in here all you want. Just tag the shelter in all your vids. I am more than happy to co-star if you need to add a little extra class to your channel.” Damien gives another wink.
“You know I can’t put you on my channel. They’d all abandon me for you. I can’t risk it.”
He smiles. “I know. I’m sorry. You can’t keep this level of charisma contained. If only I could bottle and sell it, I’d be a millionaire.”
“You know it.”
“I’ll leave you to it. Have fun.” He singsongs his last sentence, sashaying out the door.
“Oh, Bluebeard, you’re so needy today. Want to go see Beauregard? Maybe he wants to give you some pets.”
“Oh, I’m good.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry. I was teasing. Bluebeard is my shy guy. He doesn’t really like strangers. Takes him a long time to warm up to new people. He had it pretty rough before he got here. Took him three months to let me pet him.”
A shadow falls over me, and I look up to see he’s taken a step closer and squatted down over his heels. The sharp angles of his face soften as he watches the cat nuzzling my leg.
“What happened to him?” He reaches out, then pulls his hand back. The movement catches Bluebeard’s attention, and he perks up, tilting his head to stare at the hockey player.
He’s wearing that special look you only see on a cat.
Pure, adorable judgment. And then he does the most unexpected thing.
He takes a cautious step toward Beau. His little black nose twitches as he tests the air, searching for who knows what.
Danger, prey. I wish I could see what’s going on in his fuzzy little head.
Beau glances up at me, tilting his head. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, making him look almost vulnerable. I shake my head. It’s curiosity, not vulnerability.
I realize the pause has stretched out long enough for Bluebeard to make his cautious way over to Beau. He pulls back a fraction of an inch. Just a twitch. Not enough to deter the cat from sniffing his knee.
“That’s so weird.” I’m whispering, afraid to break the spell and scare the normally nervous kitty.
He matches my tone. “What?”
“Like I said before. He’s nervous around strangers. I’ve never seen him go up to someone on the first day like that.”
He stays there still as a statue, even though his thighs must be fatigued from the extended squat. I don’t care how in shape you are. That position is not comfortable for an extended period.
“And why is that? You didn’t answer my question before.”
There’s a visceral twinge in my chest. It’s hard to think about and even harder to talk about.
How could anyone hurt a poor, innocent animal?
Bad enough we humans hurt each other, never mind a helpless little pet.
“He was rescued from a guy who got caught hurting cats. There were three others in the house with various injuries. They were starving and abused. It breaks my heart, but a couple of them didn’t make it after they were brought here.
But Bluebeard’s a survivor, aren’t you, mister? ”
I step closer to them, stooping but not touching him even though I’m itching to stroke that soft fur.
Maybe steal his attention back. There’s a hint of resentment simmering inside.
It’s terrible. I should be happy the cat is coming out of his shell after his traumatic past. But of course he goes to Beau.
Of course. The one who’s clearly uncomfortable even touching him.
Feels like it might be a metaphor for him.
Everything in life has come easily. He’s got no worries about where his tuition is coming from.
I’m being ridiculous, and I know it, but I can’t help that tiny part of me deep down that resents his privilege.
“That’s awful.” His hand twitches again as if he’s tempted to reach out to pet Bluebeard, but he stops himself again. “Poor guy. Is that how he lost his eye?”
“Yes. I don’t know all the details, thank goodness. Knowing he’s been hurt at all is tough. He’s such a sweet guy once he lets down his guard.”
He nods, swiping his hands down the front of artfully faded jeans.
“We should get to work now. As much as I’d love to pet him and the other kitties all day, that’s not what we’re here for.”
“Right. Okay, buddy. I’ll see you around.” There’s an awkward stiffness in his tone when he talks to the cat.
It’s as if he’s never spoken to an animal before. Which may, in fact, be the case. Such a strange thought. I’ve been talking to animals since I could form words.
“We’re cleaning the cages.”
My eyes are locked on him as the realization hits, and all the softness is gone from his face.
His full lips are pulled down at the corners, and he looks almost pained.
There it is. This is the reaction I’ve been hoping for since I tricked him into this little adventure.
But somehow, it’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be. I almost feel sorry for him.
“Cleaning.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes. Or the scoops, I guess you’d say.”
“Scoops?”
“Yeah, you know, to scoop out the poop.” I can’t quite keep the smile under control at the absolute horror on his face.
“Right. Okay. I’m glad to see you’re entertained.”
My smile turns into a laugh. “I’m sorry.
It’s just you look so disgusted. But it’s just cat poop.
It won’t kill you, I promise. I’m sure you’ve smelled much worse things in a dressing room after a game.
Or living with a bunch of hockey players.
Like the girls’ team gets stinky, but the guys.
They’re rank. Don’t know how to look after their equipment properly. ”
“Oh, I know how to look after my equipment.” His words are laden with sexual innuendo.
How is he the one smiling? He seems to have slipped back into his usual smooth composure as if it’s a pair of clothes he’s particularly at ease in.
A smirk twitches at the corners of his lips, and the heat radiating off him would be enough to keep all the kitties in the room happy and basking in warmth.
“Seriously? Ugh.” I shake my head, spinning on my heels to grab the supplies Damien left on the round table in the corner.
“What? I’m not into germs or messes. I clean and sanitize everything after every game and practice.”
“Sure, that’s what you meant.”
“Not my fault if you’re reading things into my words.”
I shake my head as I’m hefting the big white body off the cleaning rags.
My fingers sink into his silky long coat.
“Blizzard. These are not for you.” The cat goes limp in my arms, ignoring my scolding as his entire body starts vibrating from the intensity of his purrs.
The felines run the show around here. As I’m placing him on the floor, Smoke jumps on the table, curling up on the warm spot I just removed the white cat from. It’s like they’re taunting me.
The soft laughter behind me turns into a full-blown laugh, and I spin around, ready to yell at Beau. My shout turns into a gasp when I find him inches away from me. The chest I’m staring at is shaking with laughter. He has a sense of humor. Figures it’s at my expense.
“Let me help.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” he says as an orange tabby jumps up to join Smoke on the pile of cloths.
“Seriously, guys?”
I scoop a cat up under each arm, one black and one orange, and Beau leans past me to grab the cleaning supplies before any other kitties can join in the fun.
His body brushes mine, leaving a trail of heat like it’s no big deal.
Really? This man is swiftly becoming the bane of my existence, but my traitorous body doesn’t seem to get the picture.
Off limits. Asshole alert. Nope. All it sees are some beautifully hard muscles pressed against it after a woefully long dry patch.