Page 43 of Don't Be in Love

I had an entire night to mold the couch cushions with the shape of my body as I thought about nothing but Jenny’s taste in men with tattoos and poor conversational skills on the island.

My desk drawer screeched as I dug around for my maroon nail polish in the sea of neutrals and stormy gray blues.

Meow.

The polishes jumped in the drawer under my grasp.

Maureen’s stupid cat was sitting on my balcony railing again.

“How are you even balancing on that? Your single thigh is larger than the width of the railing.”

His meow lowered an octave.

“What type of greeting did you expect? If you’d like to sit in peace, go to your balcony.”

He bared his canines and hissed.

“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.” I reached for one of my magazines, stepped onto the balcony, and began fanning him. Then he turned his face.

“Kurt, come on. Go away, please! This is my only night where I don’t have to doanything. Do you understand how rare that is? No, of course you don’t, because you’re a cat.”

I rolled up the magazine and nudged his butt. The more I nudged him, the more he shifted. “Yes, there we go. Keep going.”

He hopped away onto my windowsill, between mine and my neighbor’s balconies, and … sat down.

“Are you seriously going to wait for me to leave? No way. I’m not getting up from the couch once I’m sitting down.”

I poked at his belly, trying to get him to hop to the neighbor’s balcony.

“I. Can’t. Deal. With. Your. Cat. Hair,” I huffed with every poke. I wedged my foot between the railings to prop myself up. My lower stomach squished against the baluster. “Go. That. Way. Come. On!” I gave him one more final push and—

I screamed as my feet left the balcony and the cement of my windowsill flew towards my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my hand out as fingers latched onto my hips, tugging me in the opposite direction.

“Jesus Christ, Adelaide,what are you doing?”Dorian breathed out a sigh full of disbelief.

My chest churned out air like a broken air mattress pump.

“I,” exhale, “Kurt,” inhale, “room,” exhale.

“Someone was in your room?”He washorrified.

I shook my head. “No, no. The neighbor’s cat, Kurt.”

His stomach deflated. I fell deeper into his chest.

If I could count his breaths, it was time to get off.

I pushed away from him, stepping to the other side of the balcony.

“You were leaning over a railingfor a cat?”he asked.

“He’s covering my clothes in his fur!”

“Bloody hell, I was thinking you were saving the cat.” He massaged his forehead. “I will buy you new clothes, Adelaide, if it means you’re not fighting with a cat and risking falling twenty feet.”

Wait. “What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms.

He bit on the inside of his cheek. “I need you to look over my project.”