Page 7 of Jilted Jock
The kitten brushed against my leg and I picked her up eager to pet her more. She was so friendly. Finn’s gaze followed my every move with his cat – or not his cat, there was obviously a story there, but I wasn’t about to ask.
“Are you ready?” I looked in his general direction but avoided direct eye contact. The kitten took this opportunity to swat at my hair getting her paw caught in the long strands. I tried to detangle her, but somehow just made it worse. She meowed and pulled, and I yelped.
“Ouch. Uhh, little help.” I wasn’t going to get free on my own. I looked to Chance, who was closest, but he had turned his focus back to CJ. “Can you…” Finally, I lifted my gaze to Finn and pleaded.
He stepped into my space and reflexively I held my breath. He was just so… overwhelming. Broody in a way that seemed all wrong for him. His hands in my hair felt strangely intimate and I cast my eyes at the kitten as a distraction.
“She’s adorable. What’s her name?”
“I told you, she’s not mine,” he said, finally pulling the cat free. He moved away, the cat lying calmly between his forearm and chest. She looked pretty damn content like he wore cat nip as cologne.
“Does she know that?”
He grunted and leaned over to place the kitten in her carrier.
After the guys said their goodbyes, Finn and I headed out.
“My car is just…” I trailed off and pointed.
He nodded, and we fell quiet again. I walked a few paces ahead of him but snuck a glance behind me. His head hung down and his gait slow. It was hard to reconcile this Finn with the man Chance had talked about. And even if I hadn’t known anything about him, I’d grown up around guys like Finn my whole life. Cocky, brave, full of life.
I unlocked the car and got in the driver’s seat while Finn placed his bags and the carrier in the back.
“Which hotel?” I asked as he folded himself into my compact car.
“Whatever’s closest.”
I rattled off the hotels I could think of off the top of my head.
“Any of those.”
The ride was unbearably quiet. Finn spent it with his eyes closed and the kitten meowed incessantly, obviously not a fan of the carrier or maybe the car. My guess was both – the little I knew about Bengals included their excitement level.
I pulled up to the door and stopped. “We’re here. Do you want me to help you in?”
He opened his eyes and glanced to the front door. “Nah. Thanks.”
“Okay then. Nice knowing you.”
Nice knowing you?I cringed and kept my eyes forward while he grabbed his things.
The valet approached. “I’m sorry sir we don’t allow pets.”
“I’ll pay whatever—” His voice cut off as he slammed the door shut behind him. So confident that he could fix the problem by puffing out his chest and tossing out more money.
I stole a glance in the side mirror. Finn pointed to the kitten and threw his hands up as the valet shook his head with an apologetic smile.
He didn’t say a word when he opened the door, tossed his stuff back in and then climbed into the passenger seat.
I drove to the next hotel without comment, but we were given nearly the identical treatment.
“It’s a kitten, not a hundred-pound dog. I’ll keep her in the carrier,” Finn tried to reason, but in less than a minute he was back in the front seat with a frustrated growl.
At the third hotel, he left the kitten and his bag in the back and told me he’d be right back. When he returned, the thin line of his mouth told me he’d been turned down again.
He flung the door open, but instead of getting in he hovered with one arm on the top and the other on the passenger side door. “Listen, I need you to take the cat.”
My mouth probably gaped open, but I didn’t get a chance to speak.
