Page 105 of Betting on You

I reached a hand across the bed, grabbed the fluffball, and set him on my chest. “Say hello, Puffer.”

The cat raised his little face to the phone as I held it out, then rubbed his chin against it.

“Sorry—I don’t think he wants to talk right now,” I said, scratching the little guy’s head as he walked in circles on my chest.

“Put the phone to his ear,” Charlie said.

“Okay,” I said, and held up the phone. Charlie started talking, and even though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, I could tell he was usingthatvoice. And—seriously—the kitten started meowing, looking agitated and excited and like all he wanted was for Charlie to appear.

I took the phone back, laughing as the kitten started ramming his face into the space between my ear and the phone. “Oh my God, this guy loves you so much, it’s disgusting.”

“Will you FaceTime me? I miss him.”

That made my mouth fall open and I gasped. Loudly. “Charlie Sampson, you are absolutely a gooey, soft cinnamon bun for this puffball.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I just never imagined you being so… sweet.”

“I’m sweet, like, all the time.”

“Never, actually, but okay.”

“Show me my cat.”

“Fine.”

I hit the button, and a second later he was popping up on my phone.

“Hang on,” he said, and I felt like gasping all over again when I saw him standing in his bedroom in just a pair of shorts and no shirt. I’d always thought he looked like he might be shredded under his clothes, buthooooooly crap, the boy obviously took working out very seriously.

He ducked out of the frame for a second, and then he was back, pulling a shirt over his head. “Where’s my boy?”

I scooped up the cat and held him directly in front of the phone.

“Hey, little buddy,” Charlie said, and my heart pinched as I watched him grin at the kitten. Seeing Charlie’s face look likethatfelt like a reward or something. He kept talking to Puffball—cooing, really—and then he said, “Okay—put Glasses on the phone.”

I laughed and set down the cat, so Charlie and I were looking at each other.

“If you ever tell anyone what a pathetic fuck I am for that cat, I will kill you.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said. “Just Dana.”

“Oh, yeah.” I watched as he sat down on his bed and said, “Did you set that up yet?”

“Okay—wejustgot home. But you have to talk to Elifirst.If you don’t make that happen, you don’t get Dana.”

He gave me a smart-ass smirk and said, “I’ll text him in a sec.”

“Do you think I’ll like him?” I asked.

“Didn’t you talk to him at the party?”

“Yeah, but you reallyknowhim. Do you think he’s my type? Do you think we’ll have things in common?”

He narrowed his eyes, like he was thinking about it, and then he said, “Yeah, I actually do.”

“Sweet.”

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