Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“We’ll give him a bath at my place.”
“We need to get him some food.”
“We can stop at the corner store on the way.”
“Do you want me to hold him while you get on your coat?” she asks hopefully.
I laugh. “Yeah.” I transfer him over to her and smile when he doesn’t put up a fight. “What are you going to name him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.” She holds him up to her face so she can look into his eyes. “Are you a boy?” she asks. The kitten tips his head to the side. “Or are you a girl?” The kitten blinks, then lifts its paw and swipes at her nose.
“I think he’s a boy, baby.”
“Why do you think that?” she asks, looking at me.
“Because he’s got balls.”
“He does?” She lifts him up to look at the underside of his belly. “Oh. Well, then, how about we name him Catsanova?”
“Catsanova?” I repeat, zipping up my coat and smiling.
“Yeah.”
“Try again.” I shake my head.
“Catzilla?”
I shake my head again.
“JustKitten, Kit Kat, Purrfect, Santa Claws, Catsup, Catillac?”
“Have you been thinking of these names for a while?” I ask, laughing at her.
She grins at me. “I googled funny cat names a while back, when I was thinking about getting a cat for myself.”
“I see.” I lead her out of the office, then out the front door. I lock it behind us.
“What do you think we should name him?” she asks me as I put the key in the lockbox and close the shutters.
“Pool,” I answer. She looks at me, confused. “His eyes are blue—the color of a pool.”
“I like it.” She smiles, then holds up the cat again.
For a wild kitten, he’s pretty damn okay with all this attention.
“What do you think, Pool?” she asks. The cat takes another swipe at her nose. “Good. Glad you like it.” She tucks the cat back against her chest.
“Come on.” I lead her across the street to the corner store, where I pick up a few cans of wet cat food along with litter and some stuff for breakfast in the morning before getting us into a cab to go to my place. Libby doesn’t know it yet, but she will be spending the night with me tonight. I wanted to stay with her last night, but when I saw that she slept on a twin-size bed, I knew that would be impossible. I haven’t slept on a twin-size mattress since I was in middle school. I’m sure I could have found a few creative ways to make us both fit in her bed, but I also know she’s not ready for the ways I’d do that.
Honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready, either. Do I want Libby? Yes, but knowing she’s a virgin, I want to make sure we have a strong foundation before we take our relationship to the next level. I don’t want to sleep with her, take a gift that she can only give away once, then have things go bad between us. Then again, the idea of another man taking her virginity makes my stomach twist with vicious jealousy.
“Are you okay?”
Hearing her softly spoken question, I focus on her again. “Yeah, Princess.”
“You seemed far away.”
“Just thinking.” I slide a chunk of her hair off her shoulder and run my fingers through it.
“Are you sure?” she asks as the cab pulls to a stop in front of my building.
“I’m sure,” I say before I pay the cab and help her out of the back seat.
“This is nice.” She looks around, and I follow her gaze up and down my quiet block.
I’ve lived in the Riverdale section of the Bronx for the last two years. It’s a quiet area with a small-town feel, even though it’s just fifteen minutes from Manhattan. I chose this part of the city because I need calm after working in the city for days at a time. I love my job, but it’s high stress. Having the quiet of this place to come home to helps me unwind. Plus, people know me. Everyone knows everyone. If you go to breakfast at the local café, they will ask you your name and then call you by it each time you come in. It’s refreshing after living in the city for so long and just being another face.
“Come on. Let’s get Pool inside, cleaned up, and fed.” I lead her to the front door; it opens as if automatically when we reach it.
“How’s it going, Antonio?” Carson, the doorman, asks when Libby and I walk into the lobby of the building.
“Going all right. Did I get any packages?”
“Nope, not today,” he answers. His eyes go to Libby, and he smiles before turning his attention back to whatever it is he was doing before we walked in.