Page 74 of Can't Text This

“I just want to touch her. I bet she’s soft.”

“The softest. I keep finding myself holding her and petting her for stupid long amounts of time. It’s a little embarrassing how she’s managed to wrap me around her finger already.”

“Nah, you’re a father—being that way is just ingrained in you now.”

“Good point.” He lowers down onto his haunches and unlocks her cage. “Hey, girl. How you doing?” he coos, scooping her up with his hands.

The bunny panics for only a moment before realizing who has a hold of her.

“Ah, there she is.” She curls into his arms and snuggles close. “How was your night?”

Thumbelina makes a noise in return and it’s so cute, like they’re having their own private conversation.

“You want to hold her?” he asks.

“Actually, maybe another time. She looks really comfortable and I don’t want to freak her out.”

“Are you sure? She’ll calm down after a few minutes.”

“I’m sure,” I tell him, though my fingers are itching to reach out and touch her fur.

Robbie smirks. “You can pet her.”

I blow out a relieved breath. “Thank you. I was dying.”

With caution, I run my fingers through her fluff, and she’s just as soft as I was hoping she’d be.

“How big will she get?”

“Not very. She’s a Mini Plush Lop, so only about three or so pounds max.”

“I think she can fit in my purse,” I comment.

“I think you’re on crack cocaine if you think I’m giving her up.”

“Can’t we share her? Please?” I beg. “I’ll come over and walk her and change her litter box, whatever you need.”

“First, you don’twalkbunnies. Second, having someone to help with the litter box might not be a bad idea… Third, are you planning for ourfuture,Monty?”

Robbie’s flirty grin has me blushing and fighting the urge to duck my head and hide behind my hair. Instead, I laugh off his comment. “I’m planning my future with Thumbelina. You’d just be a bonus.”

I can tell he likes my answer.Ilike my answer, no matter how much it scares me.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, bending down again to lock the bunny back in her cage. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“You shouldn’t put that on Thumbelina’s shoulders, Robbie. So rude.”

He side-eyes me. “I meant you.”

“I know.” I grin back. I point toward the sink. “Mind if I wash up?”

I quickly wash and dry my hands, then begin roaming around the small kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as I go.

“You’re so…minimal.”

“Is that your polite way of saying I’m severely lacking in decorating skills?”

“No. It means you’re… Well, okay, yes, I suppose it is. Either way, I like it.”

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