Page 14 of Hell's Kitten

With a nod, I move back into the hall. He can work out where the fridge is, I’m sure, and both the oven and microwave are pretty self-explanatory.

“Bathroom,” I say, pointing at it as we pass. The door is open, so he can see there’s a shower above the tub and a reasonable amount of space. “Spare towels,” I add as we go past the linen cupboard. “My room.”

Thankfully, the door is closed. It’s intimate enough having him sharing my space, but at least in there, I’ll be able to hide from him.

My thoughts will be harder to escape, I have no doubt.

I realize that’s the full extent of the downstairs tour, so I turn around again to face him, finding him right in front of me, smiling excitedly.

“I love it!” he chirps. “So, I’m upstairs?”

Silently, I nod, making my way toward the stairs and trusting he’ll follow. Of course he does.

Technically, this is the bigger bedroom. I could have taken it for myself, but I preferred to live all on the same level. So while this room does have a bed, it also has a lot of crap piled up along the side, including several boxes of clothes and old DVDs, emptysuitcases, a treadmill I never use (but certainly hang laundry on), and two more cat trees.

“Sorry,” I say, indicating the mess with my hand.

He snorts at me. “Now who’s apologizing? You’ve given me a free room. I can deal with a few boxes. Nim, seriously. This is amazing. I can’t believe it. I’m going to sleep like an absolute log tonight.”

He laughs, and I notice a little dimple on his right cheek for the first time. I want to nuzzle my nose against it. That, combined with the knowledge that we’ll be sleeping under the same roof later has me almost breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Okay, well, yeah,” I say, scratching the back of my neck. “I’ll be back around five-ish probably. Have a shower, unpack…whatever you need. Uh, yeah…”

In my haste to leave, I back into the doorframe. He waves at me before I jog down the stairs.

This is going to be absolute hell.

What was I thinking?

CHAPTER 7

Jessie

I knowpeople talk about going into shock in a medical way. I don’t know if that’s what’s happening to me, but my brain kind of whited out as soon as Nim left me by myself.

Well, I’m far from alone. I’m reminded of this fact as several sets of paws stomp over me where I’m lying on my new bed, staring at the ceiling as my mind slowly attempts to process all the many thoughts whirring around my head.

There’s a strong chance that Nim isn’t a serial killer. I think I’m okay staying here. He’s got nice vibes. Quiet, but nice. But he’s also seriously hot, and his offer to let me live here rent-free is definitely too good to be true, right? What’s the catch?

Well, I suppose agreeing to feed and clean up after almost a dozen cats will go a fair way to earning my keep. I think I counted ten, but I have to double-check. He’s still going to pay me a little to help out in the café as well, so I still feel like I’m kind of ripping him off.

Maybe once I start classes, a room might become available in the dorms, or with the cheerleading house if there is one. In that case, I won’t have to worry about being a burden for too long.

In the meantime, I decide that I can make myself feel less weird and awkward by being super helpful. The realizationgalvanizes me, and I sit up, blinking, only disturbing a couple of kitties.

“I am going to be the best houseguest ever!” I declare to them.

But first, a shower.

I haven’t washed up since I left home early yesterday morning. After the drive, the crying, the restless night, the walking from store to store, and the carrying of my belongings up and down various stairs, I am so ready for a change of clothes and a good rinse. I’m tempted to run a bath, but that feels a little too extravagant, not to mention there’s a real danger that I’ll fall asleep in there if I do.

Instead, I grab my things from my suitcase and hurry down to the bathroom, leaving the door open so my new feline friends can come and go as they please. It’s so funny how cats act like a closed door is the end of the world sometimes.

It’s not long before I’m naked and hopping into the tub. There’s a curtain that I pull all the way across for some privacy, then I get the water running as hot as I can stand.Urgh,it’s glorious. I can practically feel all my stress melting away as I let the stream pound against my sore muscles.

Not wanting to use up too much water, I wash my hair and body as fast as possible, but then…oh dear. Being completely alone is a novelty for me after living with my mom all these years. I don’t know how long I’ll be living here or if I’ll have to share a bathroom in my next place. Chances are high.

Fuck it. To say I’ve been stressed and depressed is an understatement. I deserve a little release, and it’s not like it’s going to hurt anyone.

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