Page 17 of Hell's Kitten

Leah’s smile never falters but I can tell she’s irritated. I don’t blame her. Who comes to a cat café if they’ve got hang-ups with cleanliness or whatever? This woman should take herself intoAlbertson. They have plenty of fancy tea rooms and restaurants and such.

Mrs. Crimson gives us a prim little “hmph” noise and a twitch of her glossy lips. “No thank you. I’m not convinced it won’t have cat hair floating in it. Have a good day.”

With that, she sniffs, casts her gaze over my beloved café, then swans out. Her heels click-clack on the tiled floor, and her skirt and blouse are so tight around her hourglass figure I’m surprised she’s not squeaking.

There’s a beat when Leah and I just stare after her as the door swings shut. Then Leah raises her hand. “Sure, come back soon!” she says cheerfully, before spinning around and mouthing“What the fuck?”at me.

I shrug. “Some people just like to pee in other people’s cornflakes,” I say with a sigh. I know everything is fine. If she doesn’t want to eat here, that’s her business. Plenty of other people do.

Leah rolls her eyes and mutters a few more choice curses under her breath, but then she sighs and looks at the clock on the wall. Naturally, it’s got illustrated cats all over it. My nana would have loved it.

“Look, we’re almost done here,” Leah says fondly, walking over and patting my chest. “Why don’t you head off and make sure that pretty boy hasn’t flooded your bathroom or anything.”

The way she glances at the ceiling tells me that she’s caught some of Jessie’s private concert as well. I can’t help but let out a little snort of amusement.

“I can’t—” I start to say. I left her and the team alone for most of the afternoon already.

But she shakes her head and cuts me off. “When do you ever—and I meanever—take vacation days?” I mumble something about the café needing me. She cups her hand around her earand smirks triumphantly. “Yeah, never. That’s what I thought. So go on, skedaddle.”

I narrow my eyes at her and chew my lip for a second. “I suppose if I leave now, I can get a set of keys cut for him before the store closes.”

She smacks my arm. “Atta-boy! Off with you.”

I grumble some more, but actually, I’m grateful. It’s not like my mind was completely here anyway.

It’s just because this all happened literally hours ago. I’m not going to be preoccupied thinking about him all the time. Everything is so new that I simply want to make sure he’s okay.

Giving him his own keys so he’s not trapped will go a long way toward that. So I get my shit together and march into town. There’s no point taking the bike when the hardware store is only a couple of blocks away.

There’s a bit of a line, but I don’t mind waiting. This is a job that needs doing. There’s already enough of a power imbalance between Jessie and me, so I don’t want him to feel beholden to me. He should be free to come and go as he likes.

I use the time I’m waiting to mentally make a grocery list, thinking about what I can cook us for dinner when I get home. I have no idea if he has any allergies. I’ll have to check. In the meantime, a veggie stir fry with rice seems a safe enough bet, so once I have the keys, I then make my way over to the grocery store. I’ve got plenty of stuff in the kitchen, I’m sure, but I feel like fresh vegetables is the right move for our first meal together.

It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone over for dinner. I hope it’s not going to be awkward. I don’t even have a dining room table. We’ll have to eat from trays on our laps on the sofa, where our knees will practically be touching.

“Fuck me,” I mumble under my breath as I walk back home. I could at least wait until the fire breaks out before I start running for the hydrant.

The first thing I notice as I make my way up the back stairs to my place is that the music appears to have stopped. The next is an incredible smell.

Confused, I hurry up the last few steps and jam my key into the door. Upon entering, however, I immediately stop, bowled over by the adorable sight that greets me.

Jessie is sound asleep on the sofa, wrapped up in my favorite blue blanket, with half of my cats curled up around him. He’s clearly vacuumed and tidied, but that’s not what’s threatening to make my heart stop.

He’s wearing sparkly cat ears. I guess they’re on some kind of headband as they’re poking out from his dark curls. Whatever the case, it’s stirring something within me that I haven’t felt in a long time.

Closing the door, I realize that I can definitely smell something absolutely delicious. I rush into the kitchen, and sure enough, there’s a lasagna bubbling away in the oven. I hastily pull it out, seeing that it’s a little crispy around the edges, but otherwise, it looks heavenly.

No offense to my veggie stir fry, but that pales in comparison to a vat of pasta, meat, and cheese. I inhale the scent deeply, then place the dish down on a heatproof mat for it to cool. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. Jessie did this for us?

For me?

I’m supposed to be the one taking care of him, but I can’t remember the last time someone cooked me a meal. There’s an odd lump in my throat that I struggle to swallow down.

What an absolute sweetheart.

And now he’s sound asleep on my sofa. He’s probably more than exhausted after everything he’s been through. Knowing I can reheat the lasagna at any time, I decide that he needs rest more than anything. So I head back into the living room andgently start shooing cats away from him so I can take him upstairs.

“Come on, Saggie,” I grumble, picking up a particularly stubborn little guy who refuses to move. “I know he’s your new best friend, but he has to move now.”

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