But it’s not Jeremy standing there… it’s Ethan.
I pull the door open. “What are you doing here?”
Ethan steps inside, rubbing his forehead and looking slightly disheveled. For the first time in history, his hair isn’t quite right, and his clothes are wrinkled. Is this what Ethan looks like after sex?
Something tells me it’s not.
“I need to decompress after that date,” he says. His eyes dip to my cat print flannel pajama set, and he frowns. I’m not sure why. Personally, I think they’re adorable. “I was driving by and just sort of ended up here. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I say, closing the door behind him. “Was the date that bad?”
He turns and drops his hand to his side with a sigh. “She has a cat.”
A cat?Thatwas the problem with his date?
A laugh bubbles past my lips. The look Ethan cuts me in return is wholly unhumorous.
“Lots of women have cats, Ethan. This can’t possibly be the first woman you’ve been on a date with who owns a cat.”
He shakes his head. “No, like… shehas a cat. This massive, fluffy… thing with a flat, weird little face. And buried somewhere in all that fur is this woman’s entire personality.”
“Wait, she didn’t bring the cat, did she?” If she brought the cat on their date, I guess I could see Ethan’s point.
He blows out a breath like he’s seen some shit he doesn’t want to remember, and replies, “Some of it.”
“Do I want to know what that means?”
“She was wearing this outfit…” Ethan makes a weird motion that makes me think the woman might have worn a cat costume on their date.
“Overalls?” I guess instead.
“No, it was more like what auto mechanics wear.”
Ah, probably a jumper then. That’s not so bad. Jumpers are cute.
“It was covered in cat hair,” he continues. “Absolutely covered. Every time I looked at her, I sneezed. And I’m not even allergic to cats.”
“Okay…”
“Anyway, she takes the cat to conventions. That’s her primary source of income—cat shows. How much could that possibly pay? They’recats. There’s like ten stray ones on every street. Why would anyone pay to see these particular cats? I’m not trying to be a snob, it’s just… is she okay? Should I start some sort of charity for the cat people?”
Knowing Ethan as well as I do, I can tell that he’s completely serious. If I said it was a good idea, he would set up a charity for all the discouraged, honorable mention cats and their owners who need money for cat food and, apparently, lint rollers.
“Don’t do that,” I tell him instead. Motioning for him to follow me to the kitchen, I grab two water bottles out of the fridge and pass one to Ethan. “I’m sorry, I feel partially responsible since I picked the woman for you. Are you traumatized? Did you at least make an excuse to leave early?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ethan takes a long swig of his water then looks up at me, his expression shifting. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
The earnestness in his voice catches me by surprise. Glancing away, I take a small sip of my water. When I look back up at Ethan, his eyes are still fixed on me. He clears his throat and tips his water bottle to motion at me. “What about you? How was your date?”
“It was fine,” I shrug.
“Just fine?”
“Yeah, I mean, he was nice. He said all the right things, but I was quiet and awkward the whole time. It just felt…” I trail off, picking at the label on my water bottle.