Page 32 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Callum snorts. “The only other time you tried to rent out the flat you welcomed the bloke by telling him the bins go out on a Wednesday and not to feed the foxes.”
I stay quiet.
“So?” he presses.
“There was a moment.”
He raises a brow. Waits.
“This morning. I left the patio doors open after my run. One of the kittens wandered in.”
“She came in after it?”
I shake my head. “No. She was in the garden. Crawling. Wearing a coat and... reindeer pyjamas.”
Callum stares at me. “You’re making this up.”
“I’m really not… I think there was amoment.” I sigh.
He tilts his head. “And this moment… what did it include, exactly?”
I hesitate. “She may have... accidentally patted my chest.”
“Patted?” he asks, biting back a laugh.
“I was shirtless,” I reply, unable to stop myself from grinning.
“Oh mate. What’s she like?”
I rest my forearms on the edge of the pool, staring at the ceiling for a second. “Bit chaotic. Hair everywhere. Talked to the cat. Dressed like she escaped a Christmas panto.”
Callum looks amused. “So... a mess.”
“Sort of.” I pause. “But a warm one. Feminine. Funny. She blushes like it’s a competitive sport.”
“Uh-huh.” His grin spreads. “And you’re already smiling like an idiot.”
I shake my head. “I’m not— It was a weird morning.”
“And the basket was a totally platonic neighbourly gesture?”
“Obviously.”
Callum tilts his head. “I didn’t know she was also bringing a kitten.”
“Kittens,” I correct. “Plural. And I haveyourgirlfriend to thank for it.”
He frowns. “Stella?”
“Yeah. Apparently, she greenlit the whole feline operation. Didn’t mention it to me, of course.”
Callum doesn’t reply right away. Just grins. Slow. Pleased with himself.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
He shrugs, far too casually. “You know what, mate... I think you were right to suspect she’s matchmaking.”
I groan. “Unbelievable.”
