Page 80 of Interference

Wyatt blinked. “Did you—are they trained to do that?”

“In theory. But I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s trained.”

“How do you figure?”

I didn’t respond—I just opened the container of chicken pieces. Moose sat up as straight as he could. Bear put his paws on the edge of the table, staring at me with wide eyes. I gave a piece of chicken to Moose, whose purring could probably be heard from a mile away. Then I gestured at Bear. “Down.”

He reluctantly took his paws off the table and put them on the bench. “Good boy.” I gave him his chicken.

Wyatt cocked a brow. “So they are trained?”

“They’re properly motivated.” I nodded toward Lily, who was focused on Wyatt but kept flicking those big brown eyes to the chicken in my hand. “Can she have some?”

He nodded and took a piece, which he handed to her. She delicately took it from his fingers, wagging her tail as she chewed it.

We settled in to eat our sandwiches, all the while being watched by three very intent sets of food-motivated eyes. Lily, of course, didn’t beg or anything. My cats were reasonably well-mannered, though Moose occasionally tugged at my sleeve as if to remind me that he was there, wasting away while I cruelly ate in front of him.

As for Bear…

Wyatt stared at my ridiculous black cat for a moment. Then his shoulders dipped. “C’mon, dude. Puppy dog eyes are bad enough. That’s not fair.”

Bear continued staring at him with those giant, round eyes.

I snickered. “He’s manipulative as hell, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.” Wyatt sighed dramatically and tugged a small piece of chicken from his sandwich. “And it works, the little bastard.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. They’ve been doing it to me since they were kittens.”

“Yeah?” He glanced at me as he reached across the table to offer Moose a piece. “Do you just get desensitized to it after a while?”

I barked a laugh. “Oh, you sweet summer child. You seem to be under the impression that I don’t still fall for it.” I stroked Moose’s back. “I’m wrapped around their little—well, giant paws.”

His lips quirked. “Hmm, yeah.” He handed a third piece of chicken to Lily. “That checks out.”

“Hey. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging.” He showed his palms. “If you hadn’t noticed, they’re pretty good at manipulating me too!”

Yeah, that was the truth. They were good at it with anyone, but for some reason, it was especially cute with Wyatt.

Everything is especially cute with Wyatt.

Wait, what?

I tried to shake that thought away as we continued with our lunch, but I kept coming back to how different everything was with him. The little endearing things he did with the animals were stupidly adorable. The conversations with him were addictively relaxing. My own house was warmer and more inviting with him in it.

And now that I thought about it, the thing I really couldn’t get over was how easy all this was. Not that it should’ve been difficult—we were just two guys hanging out—but it made me realize how hard things had been with Simon. I was used to measuring my tone and considering my words because I never knew what might set off a fight. I was used to wishing for some time to myself instead of looking forward to time with Simon. For all I was attracted to Wyatt, the time I spent with him didn’t fill me with the butterflies of being in the honeymoon phase with a new boyfriend. I looked forward to it and wanted to spend time with him, whether we were out walking the cats or chilling at home in front of a hockey game or a stupid movie, because the time with him was comfortable. It was pleasant.

It was easy.

So this is life after Simon.

Over the past year, I’d spent a lot of time worrying Simon and I would break up. Of course I hadn’t wanted us to split—I loved him—but I wasn’t stupid. Simon had one foot out the door, and no matter how much I’d scrambled to keep him from continuing in that direction, I couldn’t stop him. A breakup had always been on the table.

So I’d lost a lot of sleep thinking about what life would be like after Simon. That was the worst part of even the most unavoidable breakup—the upheaval. Adapting to a new normal without someone. And Simon… I mean, we’d bought a house together. We’d talked about getting married. I hadn’t even cared one way or the other about marriage until I’d met him, and the first time he’d brought it up, it had suddenly been something I wanted.

The looming end had felt like a lot of future plans going up in smoke while the solid ground under me turned to sand. Yeah, that sounded a little dramatic, but who didn’t get dramatic and anxious when massive change was coming and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to stop it?

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