Page 17 of Playing His Game

“The third? No, never mind. I’ll let Maryan know you’re not to be trusted with naming any of the animals.”

“Gasp! Horror of horrors. Adam Murphy, are you suggesting that Georgia Bartholomew Audrey Hampstead the third’s name isn’t perfect?”

“Wasn’t there an Adrian in there somewhere?”

Mo blinked. “Huh?”

“A guy who can’t even remember the name he just gave to a cat loses all naming privileges.”

“You are mean to me, sugar lips. Vile.”

Adam twitched at the nickname, but instead of commenting, he tickled the tummy of the black cat who’d given in to its fate and curled up between Adam’s legs. Maybe it was into that. Maybe it had the soul of a gay man. Who knew?

“It was dogs and cats. The pets. My parents had a cat before I was born. Apparently, she first hated, then loved me, the new baby. After she passed, we got a dog. My parents have two cats now—one on purpose, the other a gift from the cat distribution system.”

“Showed up on their doorstep?”

“Brought home. Parents still have no idea how Inigo managed it—he’s an indoor cat—but he just showed up with a blond kitten one day.”

“Defying the laws of nature? Secretly opening doors?”

Adam laughed. “Buttercup probably snuck in through a vent or something, looking for warmth, and then got adopted.”

“And you think I’m bad at naming.” Mo sniffed.

Adam opened his mouth to retort, but just then, Orange Beast released its grip on his shirt and dropped to the floor before galumphing in Mo’s direction. How it didn’t fall on its face, Mo didn’t know. It did bowl over its orange-and-white sibling, though.

“Why is kitty-on-kitty violence cute?” Mo wondered out loud.

“Everything kittens do is cute.”

“That’s true,” Maryan agreed as she stepped back into the room. “Do you mind if I take some pictures and video?” She held up her phone in demonstration.

Mo wanted to say no. He wanted to tell her to go away so he could enjoy his kitty therapy in peace.

Mo wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have—always had. So he smiled and told her to make sure she got his good side, and then held Georgia up to his face for pictures.

“How’s this?” he asked, pouting like he was posing for a selfie in 2014.

Maryan laughed and snapped the picture. “Cute. Though I was mostly thinking I’d just try to document the spontaneous cuteness that is the kittens.”

Mo nodded sagely. “You should focus on the captain over there, then. He’s made an excellent climbing gym so far.” Too bad Orange Crusher had left him for greener pastures. “The kittens really hammer home the enormous professional athlete thing.”

Adam gave him a quelling look, but the black kitten had curled up in the center of one of his thighs and was in zero danger of falling off the edge, so it didn’t really land when he said, “I am anormal size.”

He didn’t get the words out entirely before Maryan gave a cut-off laugh and met eyes with Mo. Oh God, she definitely thought Mo was talking about Adam’s dick.

Whoops. Nothing to do but lean into it.

He winked.

Adam flushed crimson.

“Awww,” Mo cooed, almost without meaning to. Something made him climb to his feet, careful not to jostle Georgia. Cats liked heights, right? Not that Mo’s chest level counted as a height. Unless it did, to a cat. He smiled at Maryan. “Hey, I have an idea…”

He wasn’t quite as good at scooping up kittens as Adam. He had smaller hands and less experience. But he did have practice with finicky mechanical bits, which kittens were mostly made up of. “No, just stay there and look cute,” he told Adam, who couldn’t go anywhere anyway because he had a kitten nesting on his thigh.

Mo deposited Georgia the gray tabby in Adam’s right hand, mostly to further immobilize him.