AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I gather the furball in my arms and stand up, nodding in recognition. The vet tech’s eyes go wide as I straighten to my full height.
She reaches out to pet the cat in my arms as I walk towards her, but the animal just recoils closer to my chest and hisses.
“Sorry,” I say. “She’s just … like that with people.”
The vet tech flashes me a smile. “Not with you though,” she says, looking at the way the cat curls towards me, snuggling against my torso.
“Trust me, that took a while,” I reply.
She lets out a laugh and then reaches out to press her palm to my shoulder, a move that makes me quirk an eyebrow. “Nothing’s more attractive than a man who’s good with animals,” she says.
“Uh huh,” I deadpan. There’s a beat of silence where she looks at me expectantly, I’m assuming waiting for me to return her flirty comment with one of my own. Sad for her, she’ll have to be waiting a while.
She clears her throat, getting the message from my silence. She resets the tone of the conversation. “Well, if you’ll just follow me, Dr. Girard will see you now.”
Honestly, she’s an attractive woman. But I may have to keep coming back to this vet now that I have this cat, and I don’t mix different aspects of my life.
For me, any hook-up is strictly no-strings-attached, and it can’t intersect with any other aspect of my life. Hooking up with an employee of a vet I might have to become a regular customer of is immediately off the table.
It has to be that way. I can’t risk girls getting clingy if they see me too often, and I sure as fuck can’t risk any of my attention getting pulled away from hockey. For me, sex has to be strictly about satisfying physical urges.
Speaking of those urges, they haven’t been satisfied in a while. Not since I moved here to Cedar Shade.
Maybe I should hit up a party this weekend and try to get laid. I’m not the party type, not by a long shot, but there’s no beating that scene when it comes to finding the kind of hookup I’m exclusively in the market for: a one-time thing with zero feelings involved.
For some reason, though, the thought doesn’t appeal to me at all.
Instead of my mind filling with enticing images of gorgeous puck bunnies leading me into their bedrooms, the image of Summer laughing next to me outside the library flashes in my head, and the idea of an anonymous hookup with some girl I meet at a party suddenly brings a sour taste to my mouth.
We reach the examination room, and the vet tech tells me that the doctor will be with me in just a couple minutes. The cat’s now poking her head around with a displeased look on her face, clearly not enjoying the vibes of the new environment.
“I know, girl,” I say to her, my voice low. “We’ll be back home soon.”
The guys bombarded me with questions the day after I came home with her. Mostly they’ve been cool about it, though. Tuck’s allergic, but he says he should be fine as long as she doesn’t hang out in the common areas too much, and of course as long as I keep her from getting into his room.
With how little interest she seems to have in going anywhere but my room, I don’t think that should be a problem.
The door opens and the vet strolls into the room. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Voss.”
I cringe internally again at the name. “Hudson, please,” I say while I shake his hand, making a conscious effort to give him a light grip. I’ve learned over the years that even when I’m not trying to—hell, even when I’m actively trying not to—I can crush people’s hands in a handshake.
“Alright, Hudson,” he answers, then looks down at the ball of fur in my arms. “So, who do we have here?”
“My cat,” I answer.
The doctor chuckles. “I can see that. I mean, what’s her name?”
“Oh.” A guilty feeling pulses in my chest. “Well, uh, she doesn’t have a name yet.”
“New pet?”
“Yeah,” I answer, and then launch into the story of how this ornery little thing came to be my responsibility.
The vet examines her and announces that she has a clean bill of health. That’s got to be downright miraculous after she was living on the streets like she was. The vet also tells me that she’s been spayed, so she must have had an owner at some point.
My jaw ticks as I think about the people who just left her behind, anger simmering in my blood.
“Anything else I need to do for her?” I ask.
