Page 40 of Catnip, Claws, and Chaos

“Okay. I'm sorry, I thought I heard something. Probably just my imagination.” There's a pause. “Okay, so I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow!” I squeak, my voice shrill. I hear his steps retreating and grab the pillow, pressing it against my face. I can't believe Logan heard me masturbating. I scream my frustration into the pillow and try not to overthink the fact thatmy boss just heard me cry his name in the grip of my orgasm. I could die of embarrassment.

Part of me wonders why he didn't say anything more or, worse, open the door. Maybe he didn't know what was happening? Or maybe he was just being polite? There's no way to know without asking him directly, and there's no way in hell I’ll do that.

Despite my mortification, a yawn escapes me. Tomorrow. I yawn again. I can die of embarrassment tomorrow when I see Logan. For now, though, I'll close my eyes and let sleep take me away. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to dream of more unbridled lovemaking with the handsome veterinarian.

A girl can always dream, right?

Since I forgotto close the curtains last night, the sun is shining right into my eyes. I groan, cursing myself for forgetting. I hate being woken up that way. There's nothing poetic about opening my eyes because a stupid ray of sunshine decides to hit me right in the face.

This ridiculously comfortable bed isn't helping matters either. The mattress feels like it's cradling me in a cloud, and the sheets are so soft I wonder if they're made of angel feathers or something. Way too easy to oversleep in these conditions.

I continue to grumble, muttering words even I can't understand under my breath. I'm definitely not a morning person. I don't wake up singing, every hair in place, and my face as radiant as someone who just got back from the spa.

Decidedly not. Half my face is sticky, and my hair looks worse than some ragged, unpruned bush. I run my fingers through it, trying to untangle the knots, but quickly give up.I'm not good for anything until my body has its proper dose of caffeine. I can't even comb my hair.

Yawning hugely, I climb out of bed, then pad to the door and drag myself to the kitchen. There, I don't even stop to say good morning to Logan. I just head straight for the coffee machine. When I put the cup to my lips and the first drop of the blessed substance meets my taste buds, I give a little moan of satisfaction.

Logan is leaning against the counter, already dressed in a white shirt and dark slacks. His hair is damp from the shower, and the cologne he's wearing mingles with the rich aroma of coffee. He looks like he stepped out of a men's fashion magazine. Meanwhile, I'm sure I resemble something that just crawled out from under a rock.

“Good morning?” Logan observes me, a half-smile on his lips. He looks amused.

I give him a half-hearted wave that's meant to be a greeting. I admit it could also be taken as a gesture that saysLeave me the fuck alone.

“Not a morning person?”

I answer that with a grunt.

“Okay, then.” He chuckles. “We can talk when you've had your coffee.”

Suddenly, the blood leaves my face, and my legs become jelly-like. I swallow hard. “About what?” My voice quivers.

“About this whole situation.”

Oh my God. He heard me. He heard me playing with myself last night while thinking about him. In his guest room.

My stomach does a nauseating flip. I'm going to have to find somewhere else to live. There's no way I can stay here after he heard me. And work. Oh God, I'll have to quit my job too. Which means I'll have no income, no place to live, and no way tofeed that demonic cat. I'll end up living in a cardboard box with Demon, who'll probably eat my face while I sleep.

“Um, what situation?” I whisper.

“You're living here, Emily. I want to know if there's anything you need. What food you like? So I can buy things for you. That sort of thing. Roommate stuff, in other words.”

“Oh, that's what you want to talk about!” I say with a little too much enthusiasm.

He raises an eyebrow. “Why? Is there something else you wanted to tell me?”

For a split second, I consider coming clean. Just blurting it out: “I was masturbating and thinking about you last night, and you probably heard me, so can we just get the awkwardness out of the way?” But looking at his perfect face and confident stance, I chicken out. Some things are better left unsaid.

“No, no,” I hasten to say. “And about your question, I really need nothing. You've done so much for me, Logan, and I don't want to impose on you any more than I have to. I'll start looking for a new place as soon as possible. So really, don't worry about me. You've been so kind, and I don't even know how to begin to repay you.”

“There's no need.” His expression changes suddenly, his face darkening. There's something different in his eyes. e pushes himself away from the counter and begins to walk away, saying over his shoulder, “We can go to work together.”

“Of course, thank you!” I watch his back as he disappears through his bedroom door. And to think that for a moment, I feared Logan might actually be a sunny, friendly guy. But no, he's his usual grumpy self. I was beginning to worry that he'd been snatched by aliens and that the person I'd been dealing with was a clone. I giggle stupidly at the thought as I go back to my room. I'd better hurry if I want to tame the mop of my hair and look halfway presentable for work.

Bob watches me from the hallway, his tail thumping lazily against the hardwood floor.

“Don't look at me like that,” I tell him. “Your owner is the weird one, not me.”

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