The Feline Gaze

I look down at him and smile.

“You had some great years with Grandma, huh?” I pet him. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to find that, Gramps.”

It sounds so lame to say this out loud.

Weak.

Pathetic.

It’s the truth, though.

“I need a date,” I tell him. “Alastair is getting married.”

Grandpa purrs. Alastair is my cousin on my mom’s side of the family. Grandpa is my dad’s dad, so he probably won’t go to the wedding. He’s never liked Uncle Jacob much, although he and Aunt Jean seem to get along really well. Anytime they see each other, which honestly isn’t often, they always goof around and tell funny jokes to one another. Grandpa has always said that Jean reminds him of a less-mean version of my mom, so she’s got that going for her.

“I really don’t want to go to this wedding alone,” I tell Grandpa. I don’t add in the not-so-veiled threat that I’ll be paired up with Lester if I don’t bring my own partner. “I went to a mixer so I could meet people. The first two guys I met were just awful. Terrible, really. You would hate them, Gramps. I didn’t plan on meeting Matthew, but...”

I shake my head because what I actually want to say sounds totally crazy.

What I want to say is that I felt a tug toward him.

A pull.

Something magical.

And when I think about it, maybe it’s really not so crazy at all. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to be feeling. Maybe, after all of this time, I’ve finally found someone I can connect with in a way that I’m supposed to be connecting with someone.

Maybe I’ve finally found someone who is perfectly content to spend an evening hanging out, eating tacos, and talking about nothing at all.

The words come pouring out, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

“Grandpa, I think he’s my mate.”

Despite the embarrassment, despite the way things ended, despite everything going horribly and awkwardly wrong, what else could explain the way I feel around him? I look down at Grandpa and if cats could smile, he’d be smiling. Grandpa-the-cat nods, then, and I know that it’s his own way of gently encouraging me.

So, Grandpa thinks Matthew could be my mate, too.

Now what the fuck do I do?

Chapter 6

Matthew

“Tell me something good,” Alastair says when I walk into his office.

“Hello, old friend,” I say, standing in the center of the room. I take a look around. It’s beautifully-furnished. It’s lovely, really. It’s the type of place that a person could get comfortable. With beautiful views from his third-floor office space, it’s the best building in town for seeing what the world has to offer.

And it’s all Alastair’s.

He looks me up-and-down with a bit of a scowl. Then he looks back at his desk, as though he can’t be bothered to talk to me. I’m not surprised. Alastair is nothing if not predictable and I definitely predicted that he wasn’t quite over the 10th grade dance.

“It was a long time ago,” I tell him.

“You can say that,” he looks up. “But what you did was mean.”

“It was a dick move,” I agree. “I was young, and I was stupid.”

“You knew I wanted to ask Lindsay Dallas to the dance,” he hisses, looking around like we might be overheard. It’s impossible. We’re in his private office and something tells me that none of his staff members would dare to bother him in the middle of a private meeting. Not if they know what’s good for them, anyway, and with Alastair, everyone always knows what’s good for them. How my cousin chose to marry him, I’m not entirely sure, but that’s Melanie, for you. She’s unpredictable and a little bit wild, but I haven’t forgotten that both her and Alastair have tender sides.