12. tallulah
TALLULAH
HEAL! SELF-CARE! LOVE YOURSELF!
My day consisted of meetings, interviews, typing notes, and Andrew’s passive aggressive remarks about my fellow interns. I was barely paying attention. I’d taken a dozen photos of the kitten and I kept my phone close, flipping through them whenever I wanted to pick at the scab over my heart.
So every three minutes.
Giving up the kitten was the smartest decision. That didn’t change how much I missed the tiny paws, whiskers, and high-pitched meowing. That kitten was so precious. Probably abandoned by its family.
And I abandoned her too.
I folded my arms over my desk, putting my head down. One of the interns was caught with LED lights—against the guidelines of the Village because they could start fires—and Andrew paraded them around for everybody to see before throwing them in the garbage. Like I could’ve had a cat here. No way.
My phone rang in my purse. I sighed.
Whoever it was, I didn’t want to talk. I was too sad.
The name on the screen surprised me. I put the phone to my ear. “Nick?”
“Who’s wearing my For the Arena sweatshirt and about to get a present?”
I glanced down at the sweatshirt, baggy over my jeans. I stole it from Nick’s wardrobe because my blouse was dirty from the kitten rescue mission last night.
Confused, I left my workstation, heading outside. I spotted Nick’s Thunderbolt parked at the end of the street, Nick relaxed against it, present in hand.
My heart skipped a beat walking toward him when I heard the muffled meowing.
No. It couldn’t be. Could it?
My heart pounded as I yanked off the top of the present, gazing down at the kitten. A thin red bow was around its neck, like one of the bolo ties my dad liked to wear.
The kitten swayed in the box, eyes dilated.
I hurried to pull it to my chest. “What happened?”
“I took the cat to the vet, and now we know a couple of things.” Nick held up his fingers. “You were right—the cat’s a girl. They’re sure she’s feral. They shot her up with a thousand vaccines. I got her cat nip because I thought that was, like, a treat? It’s not, it’s drugs.”
I burst into surprised laughter, overjoyed to hold the kitten again. “You gave my cat drugs?”
“Yeah. She took like fifty naps today.”
I squeezed the kitten tight, her purr low and rumbling. “Nick, I can’t believe—”
“She’ll stay at my place for the summer. This is temporary,” Nick warned. “I’m not hosting a cat rescue when we get back to Marrs.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, kissing the top of the kitten’s head. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
He grimaced. “There is one thing.”
“What thing?”
“Well…I needed a name for the vet…”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I couldn’t think of what to call her. She was a surprise, so obviously, I couldn’t ask you. I spotted something on their board, and—erm—”
“What’d you name her?”
He sighed. “Rat Trap.”
“What?!” Once he said that, the kitten perked up with interest. Was she responding to that name?! My mouth fell open. “You didn’t!”
“It wasn’t me! I mean, it was, but the vets were calling her that in the back, and—”
“You named my cat Rat Trap?!”
The kitten meowed happily again. I couldn’t believe it.
This adorable kitten with soft, downy black fur and the sweetest disposition, was now named Rat.
Yet as annoyed as I was about the worst cat name in history, that paled in comparison to how happy I was to have something to look forward to this summer.
“I can make up for it,” Nick offered.
Half-kidding, I held up the kitten. “How could you possibly make up for such a horrible name?”
“Want to see all the shit I bought your cat?”
My lips twitched for a grin. “I suppose that could make up for it.”
Nick’s bachelor pad had been transformed into a kitten sanctuary. A cat tree with a cat cave up top took up a generous portion, and a water fountain sat on his bathroom counter. There were cat toys everywhere.
The funniest part was how Rat claimed it. This was her territory. She raced inside the bedroom, leaping to the scratching post, throwing back her head to yowl in contentment.
I was so touched—I couldn’t believe Nick did this for me. I threw my arms around his waist, hugging him tight.
Nick stiffened, frozen in place.
“Oh—I—” I pulled back, smoothing down the sweatshirt, apologetic. “I—I’m sorry.”
Nick swallowed, his throat bobbing. “You don’t need to say sorry.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“What else am I going to do in Toronto?” Nick asked, his voice light. “Play hockey?”
I threw him another smile, butterflies fluttering inside. So what if Nick was my ex’s best friend, completely off-limits? He was still a super cute guy who put a kitten enclosure together for me. I scooped up Rat and one of her toys, stretching out on the bed to dangle the feathers above her.
Nick relaxed on the other side of the bed. I could feel his eyes on me. My cheeks warmed.
“She likes to bite my hand,” Nick remarked.
I lifted a shoulder. “She doesn’t bite mine.”
“Because she pities you. Your hands are too small.”
“My hands aren’t small.”
Nick held his hand above Rat, who was peering curiously at this freakishly huge object hovering over her. Before I thought it through, I touched his hand, spreading my fingers across his.
Oh.
I forgot how big his hands were.
My hands were small compared to his.
Which didn’t mean anything, I wasn’t a small person. I was five-foot-seven, and my mom always embarrassed me by telling everyone I’d been blessed with her hips. But compared to Nick?
Rat jumped up to smack our hands with her fluffy paws and I drew away, pulse racing. I could see Nick’s fingers flex out of the corner of my eye.
There was so much tension in the air. I could feel it, layered under everything we said.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss either. How he pushed me against the bed, his fingers knotted in my hair.
I scratched Rat behind her ears, eyes averted from Nick’s. “Can I…ask you a question?”
“Only if it’s a good one,” he said, his voice husky.
“Everybody knows you’ve been celibate for months, and at the party, you seemed…eager.”
“Yeah?”
The questions were on the tip of my tongue. Why that night? Why me? How was I the girl he decided to slip off the wagon for? That line of thinking seemed too personal for this conversation, jumping into the unknown after he’d done so much for me.
“I always wondered why be celibate?” I asked instead. “Fridge said the celibacy was like a mind thing for you?”
“Something like that,” Nick finally said.
“Are you still…? Sorry, I’m—”
“It’s okay. You can ask.”
I didn’t know how to. Nick’s previous philosophy of sleeping around without a care in the world and then his sudden celibacy didn’t make sense to me. Neither extreme side of the spectrum did. I didn’t operate like that.
I’d only slept with two men in my life. The first was a boy from the rez who I’d had a crush on for years.
We had sex in his parent’s storm cellar three weeks before I left for college.
When I asked if he wanted to get pizza, he’d quickly mentioned that he wasn’t interested in a relationship, and when I said that’d been my first time having sex, he’d burst into amazed laughter.
“Holy shit, I popped the cherry of Kendra Walker’s daughter? ”
Yeah. Not the best experience.
And then there was Fridge. When we first started dating, my ex-boyfriend had been everything I’d wanted.
Attentive, sweet, and the sex was phenomenal.
Until that tapered off. His teammates were already telling their girlfriends ‘I love you’ while Fridge and I were barely having sex.
It became obvious that I was more into him than he was into me.
Which was why I didn’t understand why he’d want to get back together.
What a weird situation the three of us found ourselves in. It was so complicated. No wonder Nick preferred sex with no strings attached. That had to have been easier.
“Fridge, you, and me—” I attempted a laugh. “I guess that makes us the celibacy triplets, doesn't it?”
It was like the hug. Nick was so naturally relaxed, whenever he stiffened, it was obvious. It went against his nature to freeze up like that.
I frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Did I say something?”
“Uh—no—”
“I don’t want to bring you into the weird thing with Fridge and me,” I said quietly. “I promise I’m joking.”
“I know.”
Why was Nick acting so weird? His words were clipped, shaved off like he was afraid to say something he shouldn’t. Was his discomfort because of his close friendship with Fridge? Or was it something else?
“If he’s sleeping with someone, I don’t care,” I assured him. “It’s been months.”
For the first time, I saw Nick take interest in the cat, tapping her on the back until she whipped around to play-attack his hand, nibbling on him. It was like Nick wanted to distract me.
“Fridge is sleeping with multiple people?” I frowned. “What is it? Why are you being weird?”
“I—I—”
“Did he cheat on me?” I asked, not even believing it, but it was the only thing I could think of.
“No, he—he’d never do that, he…”
Nick was doing his hardest not to look me in the eyes, and none of this added up. I tried to piece it together.
“How long did it take Fridge to sleep with someone else?” I tried.
Nick’s eyes flickered to mine.
Was that the question I was supposed to wonder?
The answer for me was simple. Zilch.
I hadn’t slept with anyone since Fridge. In those six months since the breakup… I didn’t regret the breakup itself, but it’d been an introspective one. I wanted to make sure that I was in a mentally good place before I decided to embark on something new.
Besides, there were so many mutual friends. So much of our personal lives were intertwined. Fridge was so close to my parents.
So…no sex for me.
My questions remained, and Nick looked ashamed. Nick, ashamed? The answers couldn’t have been that bad. Why was he acting so cryptic? Why were we tiptoeing around this? How had Fridge treated the breakup?
I scooped up the kitten and pressed her to my cheek. Rat purred, nudging against me, and with that little burst of warmth, I gathered my courage.
I called Fridge.