Chapter 2: Simp Games and Cat Wars

He rubbed his little face against the glass. My heart melted.

A voice behind me. "Do you like him?"

Suddenly, a cool, deep voice spoke up behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, but figured it was just the owner, so I nodded.

There was a beat of dramatic silence—then: "Sorry, he’s mine."

That voice. That tone. Only one person could sound that smug. I turned around and met a pair of deep blue eyes.

Whoa.

Carter Evans, in the flesh. Looking at that handsome face, I couldn’t help but sigh. Life is so unfair.

He was taller now, jaw sharper, hair a little longer. "Gracie, long time no see."

There wasn’t a hint of joy in Carter’s voice.

He looked at me like he’d just caught me sneaking cookies before dinner. There was a strange smile in his eyes.

I wanted to grab Biscuit and make a run for it.

Sensing the awkwardness, the owner came over. I was about to say something, but the owner took Biscuit out of the cage, and in the next second, Carter took him.

Biscuit purred like a little traitor. Seeing Biscuit being so obedient and cute, I felt a pang of jealousy.

There was a pause before, "Ma’am, I want this cat."

"Sorry, miss, Mr. Evans reserved him a while back. He’s here to pick him up today."

Just my luck. I stared at Carter, then at the owner, then back at Carter.

He shot me a look as he left. "Gracie, do you really like this cat?"

Was there a chance?

I nodded hard, I nearly blurted out a thank you.

He paused, then: "Then you can come to my place to see him anytime."

That’s it?

He just smiled, stroking Biscuit’s head like he’d won a prize. Watching Carter leave with the cat, I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.

See? That’s my childhood friend.

Ugh, arch-nemesis.

I just stared, totally deflated.

"Miss, we’re here." The Uber driver’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, realizing I’d been staring out the window the whole ride. I looked up at the street outside. Yeah, I could never afford to live here.

After getting out, I headed straight for Carter’s place. At the door, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and rang the bell.

Just then, the cleaning lady was leaving with the trash.

She gave me a once-over—probably recognized me from my childhood visits. I told her I was here for Carter, and she waved me in.

Before leaving, she reminded me that Carter was resting inside.

Resting?

Perfect—easier for me to make my move.

I slipped off my shoes, padded inside. After closing the door, I tiptoed into the living room, searching everywhere for Biscuit.

Finally, I spotted Biscuit sunbathing on the balcony.

He looked so peaceful, golden fur glowing in the morning light. I hurried over, scooped Biscuit up, and gave him a good rub.

Biscuit, my sweet boy, Mama’s taking you home.

But just as I reached the door and put my hand on the doorknob—

"Who are you?"

A sharp, unfamiliar voice came from behind me. I froze.

I turned around, and a shadow loomed over me. Against the light, all I could see was the white bandage around Carter’s head.

Doesn’t recognize me?

Hmm?

Sure enough, his brain’s messed up.

He stepped closer, boxing me in against the door before I could say a word.

He was taller than I remembered, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. "How’d you get in? What are you doing? And why are you holding my cat?"

Three questions in a row. Maybe because his breath was so close, my brain short-circuited—

—and I blurted out, "Carter, you’re my simp. You said everything you own is mine!"

Including the cat in my arms.

I hugged Biscuit tighter.