Close to You - Kristen Proby Page 0,2

like cats.”

“Meow.”

“Because they’re moody and snobby. I’m really a dog person,” I say, trying to reason with him. He flicks his tail and turns away from me. “Seriously, I’m not even allowed to have pets here. My landlord doesn’t allow it.”

Great. Now I’m lying to the cat. I own this house.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” I try, but the cat lies down on his back, exposing his belly, and stretches out on my expensive area rug, making himself at home.

“Meow.”

“You. Have. To. Go.” I clap my hands and move fast, trying to scare him out and through the open front door, but he runs in the opposite direction. “Seriously? You’re really starting to piss me off.”

“Meow.”

He jumps up on the back of my couch and crouches, watching to see what my next move will be so he can dodge it, I’m sure.

“I said outside,” I say, my voice heavy with authority.

Finally, he jumps down and runs through my legs, toward the front door, and when I turn around, there’s Landon, with a shirt on now, leaning against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face and the cat weaving through his legs, purring.

“What are you trying to do to your cat?” he asks as he leans down and scoops the terrorist into his arms.

“He’s not my cat,” I reply, and blow out a gusty sigh. “He ran in here and now I can’t get him to leave.”

“Smart cat,” he says, and scratches the feline’s head. Landon’s blue eyes are on mine as he closes the door and sits himself, and the cat, on my couch.

“By all means, both of you make yourselves at home.” I roll my eyes and push my fingers through my hair. “What do you want, Landon?”

I frown. My voice has never been this hard when I spoke to Landon before. It doesn’t sit well with me.

“I’m sorry, Cam,” he says softly, watching the cat as it curls up in his lap and purrs happily.

“No need,” I say, and sit on the love seat to the left of him. “I shouldn’t have come over without calling first.”

I trace the pattern in the fabric of the love seat, not wanting to meet Landon’s gaze. I’m still embarrassed, and disconcerted about the cat.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Landon says.

“I’m fine,” I reply. “I was just going to say hi. No big deal. I have some stuff to do, so if you could just take the cat outside with you when you go, I’d appreciate it.”

I stand and move to leave the room, but Landon catches my wrist in his hand to stop me. Since I was young, Landon’s always caught my wrist when he wanted to take a bite of whatever I was eating, or just to catch my attention. He’s a touchy-feely guy. I frown down into his face and my heart catches. His blue eyes are . . . sad.

And my arm is on fire from his touch.

“I really am sorry,” he says. “I’m just not myself these days.”

I gently tug my arm out of his grasp and sit back down, watching him. “Okay.”

“I didn’t want to come home,” he says as he pets the cat, currently purring happily as if he lives here. “I guess things are just weird right now. But that doesn’t mean I can snap at you. You’re the sweetest person I know.”

“You don’t know me anymore,” I murmur, remembering what I thought about in the car. Landon’s brow furrows, but then he nods.

“Maybe not. But I do know that you’re sweet, and I care about you, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being an ass.”

“Thank you.”

He looks over at me now and really looks at me, his eyes tracking me from head to toe, then finding mine again. “You look great.”

“Thank you,” I repeat, not knowing what else to say. I can see that he’s hurting, and maybe confused, and everything in me wants to scoop him up and pet him, like he’s the cat, to soothe him and comfort him.

But I can’t. It’s not my place. So I sit where I am, waiting for him to make the next move.

After a long minute, he stands, sets the cat on the floor, and walks to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Cami,” he says, nods, and walks out.

I sigh and stare at the cat. “You’re not going to leave, are you?”

He simply jumps back up on the couch where Landon was just sitting, curls into a ball,