Page 138 of Lavish
My stomach flipped, but I forced a steady breath through my nose. I could do this. Iwoulddo this.
That’s when I felt it—a slight weight, a cautious movement—and I looked down just in time to see Doughboy, Miles’s smug, lazy furball of a cat, leap into my lap like it was his rightful throne.
I froze.
He…had never done that before. He might have lain next to me, placed his head, but fully laid in my lap?
My heart did a skip.
“You little demon,” I muttered, stunned.
Doughboy purred and curled himself into a ball, content as ever, and I held my breath looking down at him. Slowly I lowered my hand, threading it through his orange fur.
My lips twitched. I hated this cat. I hadsaidI hated this cat. But right now, I couldn’t bring myself to move him.
I took a sip of my coffee, trying—and failing—not to smile.
“Don’t think this makes us cool,” I whispered, scratching behind his ears anyway.
Someone knocked on my front door. I sucked my teeth, leaning forward to place my coffee on the table, but when I tried to move Doughboy, the massive cat wouldn’t budge.
“Ugh,” I groaned, and taking a dare, I started to lift him off me, expecting claws or protest.
But to my amazement…he stayed.
His green eyes blinked up at me, and he made a low purring sound, like he approved.
“Well, this is new,” I muttered, rising to my feet with a Maine coon draped in my arms like some ridiculous accessory. “You’ve got maybe ten seconds before I remember I’m allergic to love.”
I crossed to the front door, hugging the cat close, and I peeked through the glass. And froze.
Daddy was standing there.
Straight-backed. Hands in his coat pockets.
My stomach dropped.
“Serena,” he said, his voice just clear enough to carry through the door.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
I didn’t open the door.
“Open the door.”
I dropped my head forward, and inhaled deeply, before maneuvering Doughboy enough to open the front door.
“I’m busy,” I said.
Daddy lifted a brow before walking in anyway. “It’s been a while since I’ve been over.”
I closed the door behind him, holding Doughboy tighter as if he could give some kinda of comfort.
“I see you like pets now.” Daddy pointed at the cat.
“I don’t. He just wouldn’t get off my lap.” I crossed the room quickly, going to sit on the couch. Placing Doughboy back into my lap, I petted him slowly, and I heard him begin to purr.
“So—”
