Page 35 of Interference

“Oh my God, cat,” Anthony said on a theatrical groan. “You are way too big to be a lap cat.”

Bear just purred loudly and kneaded on Anthony’s leg. Anthony chuckled, scratched behind the cat’s ears, then reached beneath the armrest to open up the recliner. Bear seemed pleased by this and managed to spread out even more.

I chuckled. “How long before your legs go to sleep under him?”

“Not long.” He smiled for the first time since he’d come home, and he petted the enormous cat. “But I can’t say no to him being in my lap, so…” He shrugged.

“What about Moose?” I nodded toward the bigger cat, who was on top of the cat tree and fixated on something outside. “Is he a lap cat?”

Anthony pursed his lips. “Sometimes? He’s a little more aloof than Bear, but he has his moments when he wants to be cuddly.” He laughed. “I could do without him trying to sleep on my chest, though.”

“Oh, wow. I don’t think I’d be able to breathe.”

“It’s challenging, let me tell you. He usually just sleeps next to me, though. Or on the other pillow, since Simon hasn’t been…” His smile dimmed.

I swallowed. Things were obviously rocky between him and his boyfriend—that had been apparent the moment I’d met Simon. But if he was gone enough that Moose had started taking over his pillow, and Anthony was this miserable over even mentioning his absence…

Jesus. What is happening between the two of you?

That was none of my business, though. I was concerned, but Anthony and I had known each other for less than seventy-two hours. I didn’t want to rock the boat by putting my nose where it didn’t belong.

Anthony petted Bear for a moment, the cat’s loud purrs carrying all the way across the couch. Then he shook himself and seemed to come back to life, and as he looked at me, he cleared his throat. “Listen, one of my teammates is hosting Thanksgiving next week. I checked with him, and you’re more than welcome to come with us.” He tipped his head toward Lily. “Both of you.”

I blinked. “He—really?”

“Well, yeah.” Anthony shrugged. “I’m not going to just ditch you while we go celebrate the holiday. If you don’t want to go, that’s totally fine, but I’d be a shit host if I didn’t extend the invite, you know?”

“I…” Did he see me as a houseguest? Because while that might’ve technically been what I was, I was just someone he’d brought in out of the cold. He’d already gone a million miles above and beyond; it boggled my mind to think he felt obligated to do anything else. “You don’t have to take me along. I’m thrilled just to be indoors.”

“Well, the invite is open.” He smiled. “It’s a lot of fun every year.”

I hadn’t been involved in anything festive in a long time, and a Thanksgiving dinner with Anthony’s teammates actually sounded like a lot of fun. I absently petted Lily as I slowly warmed up to the idea. “And they really wouldn’t mind her coming along?”

“No, not at all.” He sipped his water. “I mean, she’s a service dog.”

“Yeah, but people can get tetchy about it. Businesses can’t turn her away or anything, but you can tell some of them aren’t happy about it. If someone doesn’t want a dog in their house…”

“Why do I get the feeling businesses are weird about it because of the”—he made air quotes—“‘service dogs’ that give the real ones a bad name?”

I groaned. “Oh my God, you have no idea.”

“I do, actually.” He rolled his eyes. “An old teammate’s wife had an emotional support dog, and he was the nastiest, meanest, loudest creature I ever encountered. She fucking loved shoving his certification in people’s faces and saying they had to let him in.”

I couldn’t hold back the military grade profanity that rolled off my tongue, followed by, “I swear the certification garbage makes things even harder for the rest of us.”

Anthony cocked his head. “It does?”

“Yep. We’re not required to have anything like that. But the more people throw these bullshit credentials around, the more people think they are required. So then they ask us for ours, and we don’t have them, and…” I muttered some more curses. “It’s a fucking nightmare. Then on top of that, their dogs are undisciplined and leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, so when I show up with Lily, they side-eye me.” I paused. “Well, and now they see a homeless dude with a dog, so…” I rolled my hand. “You can see how it goes.”

“Fuck,” he whispered. “I never realized it was that big of a problem. The fake service dog thing, I mean. Like I knew they caused issues with businesses, but I didn’t realize it caused issues for people with legit dogs.” He paused. “Though, when I brought up Lily to my teammate, he did kind of balk at first, because he remembers that other dog.”

I winced. “So he’s not comfortable with Lily being—”

“Oh, no, no, he’s fine with her. I told him she’s a legit service dog, and that she’s one of the best-behaved dogs I’ve ever encountered, and he was like, ‘oh, that’s cool then.’”

I admittedly beamed a little, stroking Lily’s back. “You hear that, baby? You’re the best-behaved pupper.”

She wagged her tail.

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