Page 35 of When The Rain Falls

House.

"What in the hell is that?" I point at the fluff ball.

"It's called a cat," she declares sarcastically. "You know, small, fluffy critters that like to sit in boxes and push things off tables. They are very adorable. Just like me. So you'd probably hate them, too."

I ignore the last remark. I don’t hate her. But it’s better if she thinks I hate her.

“I know it's a cat. Why is it in my house?" My hands settle on my hips. My shirt’s forgotten, bunched up into a ball in my fist.Vivian appears over Aimee's shoulder. "Hi, Chase. Cutie patootie kitty," she coos, giving the cat a kiss on the top of its head.

"I brought him over to show Vivian," Aimee explains.

"We're not keeping it. Don't get attached," I tell Vivian. She scoops the ball of fluff out of Aimee's hand and walks back down the hall. She mentions something about making a box fort, which I'm going to have to stop ASAP.

"No kidding you're not keeping him. He's mine," Aimee scolds me. "Well, I think it's a him. I'm not really sure yet."

"Good. Now take it home," I command, pointing to the door.

"Awww, what's wrong, Papa bear?” Aimee brings her voice low and seductive. She presses her lips together in a pout. “Afraid of a little pussy?" I slap my forehead and run my hand down my face. She's seriously going to kill me. I look over Aimee's shoulder to make sure Vivian is out of earshot.

"Don't use that word in this house.”

Aimee chuckles. "Pussy? What's wrong with pussy? It means cat. What wereyouthinking about?" I shake my head at her. I can’t tell her what I was thinking about. It’s entirely inappropriate. So, instead of thinking aboutthat, I focus on her tight jeans and white v-neck t-shirt. And the rich brown eyes that are the star of her face. Big, warm, and bold. Like a mug of hot coffee on a cold day.

"Alicia doesn't have a cat," I tell her. "Where did it come from?"

"He was a stray. We saved him from the streets."

"You just brought astreet catinto my house?" I feel my eyes going wide as my eyebrows shoot up my forehead.

"Street cat?" She chuckles again, covering her mouth with both hands. "It's not like it's in a gang," she says. "Hey, I'm Chase, the street cat. Just busted out of the pen. Wanna buy some catnip?" Aimee doubles over laughing at her own joke. "Relax. I was only doing time for some light cat burglaries."

Relax?Relax?

Why does everyone fucking tell me to relax?

I'm about to respond when Julie and Ruby charge down the stairs with the volume of a fifty-person marching band. When my gaze catches Ruby, I realize the intensity of her stair stomping is the least of my problems. Because Ruby is wearing a monstrosity. A shirt. But it's only half a shirt. It stops several inches above her belly button, revealing the curve of her waist and hips. I can feel my eyes bulging out of their sockets. This is not going to end well.

Ruby takes one glance at me, crosses her arms, and squares her shoulders. She's bracing. She better brace good. Real fucking good.

"Did you wear that to school?" My voice is dangerous and low as I try to keep calm. But the chamber of my chest is filling up with bullets of anger. And I'm feeling trigger happy.

"No. I bought it this afternoon when Aimee took us dress shopping," she says. There's a defiance in her voice. One that pisses me off. My head swivels in Aimee's direction. There might as well be a giant red target on her face. Because I'm ready to fire.

"Explain," I bark.

"The concept of shopping?"

"Explain whatever that is." I gesture to Ruby.

"Oh," she says. "You want me to explain the concept of a shirt?" She looks over my bare torso. "I can see it's something you struggle with." That's when I remember that I'm still shirtless myself. Fucking Christ. This woman.

"You call that a shirt?" I yell at her, running my fingers through my hair. "I'm afraid to see her dress!"

"It's not a big deal," Aimee tries to reassure me.

"You don't see the problem here?"

"Oh I see the problem," she says. "You're completely over-reacting."

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