Page 55 of Scaredy Cat
“You’re really holding this against me.” My hands come up and I wince while pressing against my tense muscles that never seem to get any looser. “It’s a cute nickname.”
“Ruru or Aru or, I don’t know,Mittensis a cute nickname. Rutabaga is a whole separate name.” Shiloh rolls his eyes that, for the first time, I can see are bright green set under heavy lashes. His hair really is on the redder side of auburn, and he’s tanner than I’ve ever been and will ever be. Surprisingly, though, his freckles still stand out, though I can’t tell how many he has thanks to the smear of blood up his left cheek.
“Can you, I don’t know, go shower or something?” I ask. “Though I don’t know what you’re going to wear, because I’m absolutely not letting you on my furniture inthat.” I gesture at his clothes, still trying to keep myself calm. Thankfully, beingwoken up from my dead-sleep is doing a lot to suppress my panic and makes all of this seem a little surreal.
I’m hoping to ride the high of sleepiness for at least another three minutes.
“Oh, I have a change of clothes with me,” Shiloh assures me. As I watch, he puts down Arugula then unlaces his black combat boots and leaves them on the mat, his socks going with them and stuffed inside. Arugula sniffs at the blood before trotting right back to me with his tail in the air and a series of meows that sound conversational and directed at me.
Am I beinglecturedby a cat? That’s certainly what it feels like when?—
“What are you doing?” I yelp, noticing Shiloh tug off his long-sleeved shirt and drop it on the mat as well. He pauses with his fingers at the button of his jeans and stares up at me in surprise.
“Uh…stripping so I don’t get blood anywhere else?” he asks, bemused. “Why…?” he trails off, and his lips twist into a mischievous grin. “Oh, are you nervous to see me naked, Scaredy Cat?”
“No!”
Yes.
“Even though I’ve touched you all over, had my fingers and mouth on your cunt, and fucked you before filling your pretty pussy, you’re getting all shy with me.” God, he’s having too much fun with this, and part of me considers going to the kitchen, getting a knife, and stabbing him.
He was an intruder, officer. I rehearse the claim in my head, planning my whole charade for when the cops inevitably show up with Shiloh’s body bleeding on the floor.He was covered in blood, and he broke in to steal my cat. I think he might be some kind of bad guy…
Shiloh gives a soft snicker and shoves his jeans down his legs, leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs that cling to toned,tanned legs. I feel like a deer in headlights when he pads across the room and reaches up to cradle my face in his hands. “I’ll answer all your questions, babe,” Shiloh promises, as fear and uncertainty finally start creeping their way up my body toward my tongue. “Well, probably. Unless you ask me something really off the wall about my childhood trauma.”
“You have childhood trauma?”
He snorts and rolls his bright green eyes that seem too truly emerald to be real. “Don’t we all?” Before I can say anything else, he kisses me, though it’s more of a brush of his lips against mine that reassures me way more than it should.
“And I’ll clean your floor,” he adds, before heading straight for my bedroom, unerringly knowing where the shower is and belatedly making me realize he knows the layout of my house without having to ask. “Just give me a few minutes, Scaredy Cat.”
I love the way he uses my title, like it’s something other than my brand. I’ve never considered that it could be a pet name, instead of just ironc for my blog. But Shiloh makes it feel…
Special.
“Fuck.” I glare down at Arugula while he twines around my ankles, stepping on my bare feet with abandon. “Your owner is a menace.” The questions and the anxiety are building, and I barely pay attention to the sound of the shower spraying hot water against Shiloh’s perfect body.
Get a hold of yourself, I chastise, and go to the kitchen to grab the floor cleaner and a few old towels that I’ll probably need to burn. I tell myself that I’m just getting them out to throw them at his face, but when I come back to the living room to stare at the bloody footprints, I find myself moving automatically. I can’t just notdoanything.
I can’t just wait for him when he’s shown up here covered in someone else’s blood.
Did he kill someone?
I tell myself it’s fake. He’s just bullshitting me and there’s nothing to be afraid of. Surely I’d somehow be able to intuitively know if he’s a killer. Surely I wouldn’t be so attracted to amurderer.
Except…if I’m being honest with myself, maybe a part of me has always known he’s more than just an obsessed fan. “Don’t start,” I whisper as I scrub away the last of the still-tacky blood. It’s better that I’m doing it now instead of waiting for Shiloh to get out of my shower and dry off. At least it’s not dry, and I barely have to scrub away the?—
“What are you doing, Persy?” Shiloh’s words and sigh make me jump, and I nearly levitate off my hands and knees at his perfectly silent approach.
“How do you do that?” I hiss as I turn to look up at him. Arugula is already rubbing on his legs, but this time he ignores the cat. “You just don’t make any noise, and—” My words end with a surprised yelp when Shiloh reaches down to tug me to my feet, and the towel wrapped around his waist performs admirably, deserving a medal when it doesn’t come undone to drop to the floor.
Though, would it really be such a crime to be able to see the full picture? It’s not like I haven’t felt it in my hands and in my?—
“I told you I’d clean this up,” Shiloh tells me, a note of reproach in his voice. “You’re making me feel bad. Go. Sit. Put another movie on.”
“Put another…” My eyes narrow, and I glance at the digital clock in the kitchen above the stove. “It isfour am. Why would I put another movie on? I’m supposed to be sleeping.”
“Oh, then by all means, let’s go to bed.” He pads into my bedroom and I follow him, stalking behind like a pissed off cat. Though I am by no means on Arugula’s level of pettiness as he winds about Shiloh’s legs and does his best to trip my stalker.
