Page 21 of Cop-Off

***

The next day, Cat and Dylan were sat on Mrs Tucker’s floor. Having a perfectly lovely time playing with Snowcone. It wasn’t weird at all. He loved cats, she loved cats, Mrs Tucker had cookies. It was a good time.

That was until Dylan decided to test her blood pressure.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?”

Cat’s hand paused mid-stroke in Snowcone’s fluffy white fur.

“W-what?” It was one word and she still managed to stumble over it.

“I don’t mind if you are. You seem nice and you like cats. Maybe you can convince Dad to get one for us if you move in?”

Move in? Is this kid on crack?

“Uh, what makes you think I’m his girlfriend?” It was a fair question.

“I’m nine, almost ten...I’m not dumb.” The boy shrugged.

Was that an answer?

“Okay,” she said slowly, hoping there was more to come.

“My dad’s always looking at you. And he’s always smiling. My dad doesn’t smile a lot...except when he’s with me. But now he smiles with you, too. That means he likes you.”

Well, shit. Where was this kid three years ago when I was in dire need of this dating wisdom?

Cat hummed a reply and resumed stroking Snowcone. Dylan seemed content to do the same and placed his little hand back into the fur. She didn’t answer his earlier question and he didn’t ask again. Which was lucky, because explaining a hook up to a nine-year-old felt slightly problematic.

It was another twenty minutes before Mrs Molly returned to pick up Dylan and she had to admit, she was sad to say goodbye.

Cat wasn’t exactly the kid-whisperer or even a massive fan of children in general, but there was something about Dylan you just couldn’t help but like. He was always so happy, but not in an annoying way. In a warm and fuzzy way. She’d even go as far to say his presence was calming. Heaven knows she should be drinking in as much calm as she could get.

As if her brain was working against her, to dispel any ounce of calmness she’d carried home, the first thing she did when she arrived back at her apartment was pull out her phone. Andpoof!Just like that, it was gone. Back was the dread. Her daily text from her brother, Jack, was there.

Jack: Dad was doing better today. Think you’re going to be able to visit soon?

It looked like she’d be spending her evening in the company of another dose of guilt.

***

Cat rarely got nervous. She was too old for butterflies and blushing. Or so she thought. The moment Cody knocked on her door, the stomach ache started. And as soon as he reached outand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks heated. They stayed as hot as Hades when he took her outfit in and let out a low whistle. And she was fairly certain they burned bright red when he told her that she looked like a “Fucking goddess.”

Now they’d returned to the scene of the crime. Casalingo. And were ironically given the same window seat she’d had before he’d carried her out of there.

A big-arse glass of wine secured, they’d just placed their order when her word vomit reared its ugly head. “Why don’t you smile?”

Uh-oh. Cody looked like he’d just been slapped in the face.

Way to go, Cat. Why don’t you ask him how his wife died next?

“What?” Confusion marred those oh so handsome features.

Oh well. In for a penny, in for a pound.“Dylan told me you don’t smile unless you’re with him. I was just wondering why.”

“Did he now?” Cody carefully placed the beer bottle he’d been sipping on back onto the table.

“He did,” she confirmed. “Is there a reason, or...” she trailed off. Asking him if it was a case of resting bitch face didn’t seem all that appropriate anymore.

---