Page 39 of Catnapped

“Don’t,” Carson tells him low, but I catch it.

“Who’s the suit?”Mousey jumps up on the couch.“Smells like a dog.”

“Be nice,” I whisper to her, making the man give me a curious look.

“Lennie, this is May.” He introduces me. “May, Lennie’s an old associate of mine.” Oh, another FBI person.

“Hi.” I give a dumb wave from across the room.

“We’re working a job together,” Carson fills in. Right, I’m just his coworker. Why does that burn? It’s the truth. No matter how much I wish it was more.

"Oh," Lennie says, as if that makes more sense than me being Carson's girl.

“I don’t like him.” Mousey flicks her tail.

“That makes two of us.”

“What?” Lennie asks.

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“That mine?” Carson motions to the bag in his hand.

“Yeah, a cute delivery girl dropped it off. Tried to get her number.” He hands the bag to Carson. “She’s playing hard to get.”

Gross. Is this really Carson’s friend? He must be. Why else would the guy be here? Carson doesn’t work for the FBI anymore, so there’s no reason he has to rub elbows with this slimy guy. You can tell a lot about someone based on who they associate with. It’s a reminder that I really might not know Carson at all. Dread settles in my stomach.

“Pffft, hard to get.”I snort a laugh at Mousey.“Knew he smelled of dog cause he is one. Now you, on the other hand, just smell like a hussy.”

“Mousey!”

“Not saying it's a bad thing. We all got itches to scratch.”She plops her butt down and starts licking her paw.

“Oh my God.”

“Is she talking to the cat?” Lennie asks, one of his brows high.

“Lennie, I’m in the middle of something here. We’re going to have to catch up later,” Carson says, not answering his question. I’m embarrassing him.

I’m the weird girl. It’s nothing new. I’ve dealt with this stigma my entire life. This time it hurts more.

“It’s fine.” I pick up Mousey. “I’m actually going to make some calls. You two do whatever it is that men do.” I head for the hallway.

“May,” Carson calls after me.

I ignore him, making my escape to the bedroom and right into the bathroom, where I can lock the door. I sit Mousey down on the counter. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes.

“Get it together,” I tell myself in the mirror. I don’t need to turn into some emotional mess because we had sex. It’s just sex.

“Now you’re talking to yourself.” I give Mousey a glare. She trots over to me, giving a few headbutts.

Cats can be jerks sometimes, but they are always there when it really counts.

23

CARSON

“Time to go.” I take the package from Lennie. I don’t know how the fuck he got up to this floor, but given Lennie’s specialties in infiltration and electronics, I’m betting he hacked my system. Motherfucker. That’s a feat only he or Squirrel could perform–I keep my shit tight. But professional worms can burrow through anything.

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