It could help him gain weight, and then you could name him Garfield.
Wren
That name doesn’t fit him. He looks more like a Jack.
Jaxson
Yeah, Jack the Ripper .
Jaxson
He looks like he has seen some things, like a ghost or someone committing murder. Or maybe…he’s done the murdering?
Dad
I wouldn’t let that cat sleep inthe same room as you.
Mom
Oh hush, he’s adorable. Do what you have to do to win him over, Livie.
I put my phone down and looked over at the cat, licking his paws. “You do need a name.”
He looks up at me, tilting his head for a second before stretching, flicking his tail, and taking off at full speed toward the living room. Where in the world did Luke find this cat? Speaking of Luke, I pick up my phone again and read over our text thread.
Let me know when you make it home safe
Did you find this cat at an abandoned house that possibly could have been haunted?
Just letting you know the cat hasn’t murdered me yet.
Did you make it home okay?
Tried to call.
If Jonah can talk to God while he’s stuck in a whale, you can return my texts!
Good night.
Good morning. I survived the night. I hope you're okay. Don’t think I won't Liam Neeson you if you don’t answer me soon!
He has read every single one of my messages but still hasn’t replied. It’s not like Luke to ignore my text messages or calls. I feel like an annoying friend, but he has a dangerous job after all. I have the right to be worried about him when he doesn’t respond.
I couldn’t sleep well last night because of my worrying. That, and I discovered that cats love to do parkour in themiddle of the night. Maybe I shouldn’t have given him some catnip before bed? I was just trying to get him to like me.
“Hm, what about Liam?” I ask the cat, who’s now climbing up the side of my couch. If I decide to keep him, declawing might need to happen. If he ruins my couch, I will make Luke buy me a new one. I thrift a lot of my home décor, but that couch was something I splurged on for my birthday two years ago. “Maybe Jack is more fitting since you’re trying to rip my couch.”
A small knock fills the space, and I twist around to see Luke in his police uniform shutting the front door behind him. His gaze lands on mine, and it feels like fire, singeing every nerve in my body. He watches me for a moment, hesitating to move closer, before the cat comes up to him and starts rubbing against his leg.
“Hey, Buttercream,” he announces, picking up the orange-and-white cat, snuggling him close to his chest.
The sight is sweet andalmostdistracts me from how angry I am with Luke. I refuse to let him off the hook for ignoring me all night.
“Why haven’t you responded to my messages?”
Luke doesn’t look at me. Instead, he places the cat onto the floor, giving him a little pat before walking to my kitchen counter. He reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a handful of red and pink Starbursts, and places them into the glass jar that’s halfway full. It’s a little tradition of his.
He loves snacking on Starbursts while doing his routes and says he doesn’t like the pink and red ones. It works in my favor because they’re my favorite. He always saves them for me and places them in this jar.
