Page 1 of Cat's Outta the Bag

Chapter 1

Alexis

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The door practically rattles off its hinges.

Ooh. Ominous. Sounds like the opening line in a murder mystery. In reality, it's just my food being delivered on time. It's my first day off in ten days, and the idea of putting effort in to cooking was just not an option. I barely made it out of my house this morning to get expensive coffee, let alone go get the groceries necessary for a proper meal.

I take stock of myself before getting up to answer the door. I have on my unicorn footy pajamas (with the feet cut off; I get too hot), my hair is in a messy bun that I couldn’t be bothered to straighten up, and there is a suspicious stain on my sports bra. Am I going to answer the door like this? You bet.

After a quick check at the peephole to confirm it is indeed my delivery person, I open the door just enough to say hello and grab my food. I did not count on the fact that I ordered enough food to feed an army and would have to open my door significantly wider than usual to get it all inside.

This was a mistake.

My sweet, loving, adorable, DEVIL cat took advantage of the extra inch of space and streaked past into the hall before the delivery person, or I, realize what’s happening. And before I could even shriek her name, she'd slipped through the closing elevator doors, startling the poor neighbor inside, likely on their way out, excited for a regular Friday night. I only catch a glimpse of their shocked expression before the doors close with a ding.

For a moment I stand there stunned, briefly wondering if the person I saw is my new neighbor. And then I remember, my cat is currently sharing an elevator ride with said stranger, and I’m just standing here, like an idiot.

“FUCK!”

With the speed of Katie Ledecky in an Olympic pool, I grab my food, set it on my counter, and dash out after my spawn of Satan cat. She will regret this!

There's only one elevator in this building, so I take the stairs at a breakneck speed. Luckily, I only have five floors to race down, so I make it in record time.

I startle Jerry, our night security guard, and several residents as I burst out of the stairwell, ready to strangle my fur baby. I have so much momentum, I nearly slam right into the person who shared the elevator with her. And when I look up into their eyes, my brain completely short circuits.

Holy. Fuck.

Jason MOTHER FUCKING Adams is holding my cat like a baby, stroking her furry tummy.

For a moment, I consider that this is a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation. But no, after another moment of complete silence, Jason Adams is still there, holding my cat. His sandy blond hair is styled in that way that screams sex, but classy. His blue eyes are crinkled as he smiles down at the furry devil in his arms. He’s dressed to go out, and here I am, standing in front of one of Hollywood’s biggest movie stars in my goddamn unicorn footy pajamas. Target will PAY for making these things in adult sizes. I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in the rom-com he starred in a few years ago where the female lead, who’s a complete disaster, somehow manages to snag the dude who has it all. I know, I know, sexist much? It definitely wasn’t his best role to say the least. And why the hell am I even thinking about this right now?

“That’s my cat.” That’s right, folks. I’m meeting one of the most attractive men in the entire world, and the first thing to pop out of my mouth after I stare for an uncomfortable amount of time is: that’s my cat. Jesus fuck, this guy is going to think I’m crazy.

"Yes, I gathered that. A little escape artist, huh?" His voice is like smooth whiskey, not that I actually know what whiskey tastes like, but that's something people say, right? Whatever the correct descriptor is, it sounds fucking amazing and makes my insides clench. The corners of his eyes crinkle, and I have to take a moment to not swoon. Fuck, this man is maybe more beautiful in real life than on screen.

"Sometimes, I think she does things just to embarrass me. Thank you for grabbing her; hopefully, she didn't fight you in the elevator." There. That sounds normal, even if I'm still a bit breathless. I did just sprint down five flights of stairs.

“We had to have a bit of a heart-to-heart first, but once I explained we needed to work together, for your sake, she came quite easily.” He smiles, like actually smiles. Oh fuck, I’m dead.

There is an awkward pause. And with a jolt, I realize that this is the appropriate moment where I grab my cat and leave. Instead, I'm staring.

“Well, uh –" My brain and mouth are just not connecting right now. This is so embarrassing. "thank you, I'm just gonna –“ I reach to take my cat from his very muscular arms when the she-demon makes my night worse. With a cry that would impress a banshee, she twists her black body out of his arms and SIDE KICKS HIS FACE before making a beeline for the front doors.

"SLINKY, NO!"

With speed I didn’t know I possessed, I chase after my cat and dive for her, sliding across the lobby floor like a seasoned MLB player sliding to home plate. Within milliseconds I grab my cat, sit up, stuff her down the front of my onesie, and zip it all the way up, effectively trapping her. It’s over in a blink of an eye.

The lobby is dead silent.

Jerry is staring. Jason is staring. The delivery person, who has reached the lobby by this point, is staring. My cheeks flame with embarrassment. Oh my god, what just happened?

With as much dignity as someone who just slid across a public space to catch their cat can have, I stand up, one arm awkwardly supporting Slinky's ass to keep her from sliding down a pant leg or something equally humiliating. I bend forward slightly, my free hand making a little wave motion like I'm taking a bow after a performance.

Like I said, my brain is short-circuiting.

This is Hell.

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