Page 78 of Now That It's You
“You’re an asshole.”
Floyd cocked his head to the side, then meowed and jumped up on the adjacent barstool. He sat down and eyed Kyle with apparent interest. Kyle eyed him back, probably bracing for another sneak attack.
Meg laughed and turned to pull a massive cake plate from the fridge. She set it on the counter and whisked the lid off to show him. “I haven’t cut into it yet. How about I just send you home with the whole thing? This lid snaps on and off easily, so it travels well.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re not going to share a piece with me?”
She shook her head. “You earned the whole thing with all the work you did.”
“Then did I also earn the right to ask you to slice it up right now and join me for a piece?”
She hesitated, not wanting to be rude. She did kind of like his plan, though .
“All right,” she said, pulling a knife from her butcher block. She glanced over at Kyle, who was making another attempt to pet Floyd.
Floyd growled and flattened his ears.
Kyle pulled his hand back and stared at the cat. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”
Floyd closed his eyes and started to purr.
“So that’s your deal, huh, cat?” Kyle said. “You like it when I’m not nice to you?”
Still purring, Floyd bumped his head on Kyle’s arm.
Meg laughed and flopped a second piece of cake on a plate. “You’ve finally figured out Floyd’s psychological oddity?”
“So that’s really it? He hates people who are nice to him, but he loves it when you’re mean.”
“I suppose so.”
“Huh,” Kyle said, folding his hands on the counter. “Maybe I should have tried that with you. I was reaching that point until you FaceTimed me the other day.”
“You were planning to call and leave insults on my voicemail?”
“Figured it was worth a shot.”
Meg handed him a fork. “Eat your cake, goofball.”
She shoved a plate at him, along with a cloth napkin printed with pink and brown polka dots. Putting the lid back on the cake plate, she stuffed it back into the fridge and reminded herself not to let him leave without it. With her own plate in hand, she walked around the bar to claim the vacant barstool on the other side of Floyd.
“So, speaking of pets, tell me about your dog,” Meg said as she forked up a bite of cake.
“Bindi,” he said. “I’ve had her about six months. Got her from a rescue group in eastern Oregon.”
“You said she’s an Australian kelpie?”
“Yes. A herding dog on crack. Have you ever seen one?”
She shook her head and swallowed her cake. “No, but I googled after you told me. I watched a YouTube video of a kelpie herding a bunch of sheep together and then running across their backs to get to the other side of the flock.”
Kyle laughed. “I’m weirdly flattered to know you googled my dog.”
“I might have also Facebook stalked you. Speaking of which, I didn’t realize you’d unfriended me.”
“Sorry about that.” Kyle speared his own piece of cake. “Matt gave everyone a guilt trip about it that first Thanksgiving after you split. It just seemed easier to cut ties.”
“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Meg gave a dismissive wave of her fork before spearing her cake again. “I suppose, under the circumstances, we probably shouldn’t be friends now.”
