Page 12 of Tameron

Easy! No!

You too soft.

You clean litter box! My room, close door.

Will do. I’m going to get one of those fancy robot litter things anyway. You’re going to love her.

I ignored my brother’s indignation as the kitten began to explore. When I was sure she wouldn’t find some small, unknown hole in the wall somewhere and get lost forever, I quickly put my things down and headed for the shower.

Even the gentle classes I taught always had me working up a sweat, and I could smell the edge of BO in my pits. I didn’t stay under the spray long, just enough to wash up and feel a little more human.

“MEW!”

I peeled back the shower curtain and saw the kitten standing in the doorway.

“MEW!”

“So, you’re going to be a clinger, huh?”

“MEEEEW!”

“And a loud one. Thank god Dax can’t hear you, or he really would murder me. You’ll have to work on your non-verbal skills though,” I warned her as I stepped out and began to towel off. She immediately began to chase the corner of the towel and got me in the back of the heel with her tiny claws, nearly taking me down. “Fucking hell! I should name you Knives.”

Which was actually a super cute name. I swept her into my arms, and she dug her claws straight into my pec.

“Yeah. Knives.” She dug her claws deeper, purring loudly.

Grabbing my phone off the counter, I quickly took a couple of selfies, and on a wild whim, I opened my text thread with Nash and sent the photo.

Show this to Tameron and tell him I have a new roommate.

Nash sent back a laughing emoji, which made me grin, and I walked back into my bedroom, tossing my phone on the bed. Knives all but leaped after it, and I let her go buck wild on the comforter as I slipped into sweats. I wasn’t on call, which meant I could cook a nice dinner, put my feet up on the coffee table, and get lost in some reality baking shows.

Knives followed me into the kitchen and began to meow loudly, so I poured her a little dish of food before rummaging through my own fridge. With both my and Dax’s schedules, it was in a sorry state. There were two dozen eggs because Dax was in his protein era—as he called it. In the back was a box of pre-washed baby spinach, a container with leftover something I was too afraid to open. There was half a container of rice milk in the door and several mutilated chunks of cheese in various bags in the drawer.

The freezer wasn’t much better, but I realized I had a few frozen meals Nash had delivered from Bean’s kitchen experiments. All of them had turned out amazing, so I grabbed one and popped the lid, throwing it in the microwave.

“MEW!”

I turned to find Knives trying and failing to leap onto the counter. I reached down with open palms and she hurried into my hands, purring the second I lifted her. Cradling her to my chest, I buried my nose in her soft fur, but she wasn’t having that. She scrambled with her wicked claws and didn’t stop until she was nestled in the crook of my neck.

“So you think you’re a parrot?” I asked her.

She purred in return.

Patting my pockets for my phone, I realized I’d left it in the bedroom. Knives didn’t budge as I walked back across the house, and when I grabbed it off the bed, I realized I had a text from an unknown number.

I thought you said you and Nash weren’t together.

My heart skipped several beats. The words were accusatory and rude, but somehow, I couldn’t help my smile as I stared at them. I added him to my contacts as Mr. Pissy, which made me laugh at my own joke, then replied.

We’re not together. And how did you get my number?

Nash gave it to me. And if you’re not together, why are you sending nipple pics to him? Who does that to their friends?

Are you serious?

Am I wrong?

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