Page 40 of The Pursuit of Happiness

I nod, “Two. Kiko and Taz.” He looks around the room in search of them so I add, “They don’t really come out when new people come over. They can be kind of shy, especially Kiko.”

As if on cue, Taz enters the room, his tail pointed straight up. I widen my eyes in shock. Usually he hides and doesn’t come out when new people come over. I watch in clear shock as he walksall the way over to Sly and starts rubbing his face all over Sly’s jeans. My jaw drops, “Holy shit.”

Sly gives me an arrogant look, “Don’t act so surprised, Kane. People, kids, dogs, cats, baby birds, they all love me.”

I watch as he bends down and starts petting Taz. I swoon at how gentle and kind he is with my beloved pet but also at how Taz doesn’t run away. Another small figure enters the room and now I’m convinced my eyes are playing games with me. Kiko tookmonthsto come out when Brody and Ivory came over. She took even longer to warm up to them. My jaw drops as my tortoise shell cat walks right up to Sly hesitantly and bows her head for him to pet her too.

He scratches behind both of their ears and I ask myself if I’ve taken any drugs because this can’t be real. I remind myself I haven’t taken drugs since I was drugged the night the sex tape was filmed and then I find that the shock hits ten times harder. I almost see stars when Kiko starts purring.

Sly looks up at me from where he squats on the ground with the cats and smiles at the expression on my face. “I thought you said they don’t like to come out.”

“They don’t,” I whisper, awe in my voice.

He winks at me, “I just got that effect.”

I shake my head in complete disbelief.

He looks back at the cats, “Which one is which?”

“Taz is the orange one and Kiko is the tortoise shell.”

He nods and laughs to himself, “I didn’t peg you for a cat mom.”

“I like to consider myself more of a butler. Taz sure likes to treat me like his own personal one,” I spit the last sentence as I give Taz a death glare. He returns it, giving me a look of complete distaste. I know he’s still mad about the toy. I add a few extra pieces of kibble to his bowl immediately, the guilt taking over.

Sly raises a brow at me, “I’ve never had a cat but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to feed them that much.”

I frown, “I’m guilt feeding.”

“Oh?”

I wince, “I accidentally destroyed his favorite toy and I feel bad so I’m compensating by feeding him extra.”

Sly laughs, “Extra would be giving him half a scoop more. You just gave him about three extra scoops.”

I stare at the bowl and frown. I suppose Sly is right. I take a scoop out of his bowl and put it back in the bag of food before setting the bowls back down on the floor where they belong. I double check to make sure the water bowls are filled and when they are I nod to myself.

Taz and Kiko abandon Sly as soon as they spot the newly filled bowls and scurry over to stuff their furry faces. “Traitors,” he mutters as he rises back to his full height.

I laugh, “Don’t worry. They might like you more than they like me. Theyneverwarm up to people that quickly. Especially Kiko,” I say the last part with pure disbelief in my voice.

The smile that takes over his face is so big it has my heart racing with admiration and something else I’d rather keep pushed down for now. I remind myself we have somewhere to be, “You ready to go clubbing, cat whisperer?”

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“VODKA CRANBERRY OR STRAIGHTshot?” Sly asks in my ear, his voice loud despite the blaring club music.

I grin at his memory. Of course he’d remember what I was drinking the night we met, just not the more infamous parts of that night. “Vodka cran, please,” I answer.

He squeezes my thigh before rising from his seat beside me on the vinyl couch in yet another VIP section of a club. “Be right back.” He weaves through the sea of bodies and vanishes fromview on his way to the bar. He could’ve waited for the waitress to come over, but for some reason he wanted to get me my drink immediately. I can’t say I blame him. The club is not in high spirits today. For starters, the rave music is European and no hate against European music, but it isn’t getting the people going. The clubbers look bored and aloof.

What’s worse is that we’re stuck yet again with Rogan. I don’t mind Miles and Nate at all but Rogan…huge pain in the ass though he has been on better behavior tonight. By better behavior, I mean he hasn’t so much as looked at me more than twice. I want to ask Sly when we leave if he said something to Rogan or if something happened to make him back off. For now though, I’m definitely not complaining.

Nate and Miles include me in conversation, but I’m still bored, missing Brody and Ivory’s presence. They both were set in not wanting to come tonight considering how it went last time and I can’t blame them. Besides, Ivory would be throwing a hissy fit if she were here and the club was not clubbing.

Sly returns a moment later with a pouty lip and a bored expression. He hands me the drink he got me and sits down beside me once more, his thigh pressing against mine. I accept the drink and immediately take a sip, needing the burn of the alcohol to lull me out of this boredom.

Sly takes a sip of his drink and I eye it, “Question, what is your favorite drink?” I continue our text game but in person. I don’t know what it is he’s drinking and I’m curious to know his alcohol preferences.

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