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“You’re pushing it,” Hollis growls into the phone.
Everything tightens at his gravelly tone. “I was just petting the boys.” And huffing your pillow. “If you closed your bedroom door, I wouldn’t have to cuddle with them before I entice them out of your bed with treats.”
“If you shake the treats, they’ll come running,” he says. “Apparently, there’s a microphone in the camera.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and head for the kitchen. “Right, okay.” I put him on speakerphone and set the phone on the counter while the boys meow their treat excitement.
“I’ll regret telling you that,” he mutters.
“You’re the one putting kitty cams in your house without telling me, Hollis.” It’s easier to push him when he’s not right in front of me.
“You’re the one masturbating in my bed,” he fires back.
My whole body clenches. I wish I’d recorded him saying the word masturbate. “I thought we weren’t ever talking about that again.”
“Yet there you were, rolling around in it again, while dressed in almost nothing.”
I look down. “I’m wearing pajamas, not almost nothing.”
“Were you dressed like that in the elevator? Did anyone else see you?” he snaps. “Men can be real creeps.”
I can’t tell if this is a dad-style reprimand or what. “Yes, Hollis. The elevator was actually full of people at eleven at night. In fact, a whole team of horny rugby players were on it with me. A few of them were super hot, too. They asked for my number, and I figured, why not, right?”
“Do not fuck with me right now, Princess,” he warns.
My vagina gets excited and takes the reins. “Or what, Hollis? What are you going to do about it when you’re all the way in Nashville and I’m in your kitchen, wearing almost nothing?”
I’m half drunk on prosecco. That’s the only explanation for the crap I’m spewing.
“You need a lesson in respecting boundaries, little girl.”
I flick on the kitchen light and rummage around in the fridge for the cats’ food. I’m angry, horny, and hopped up on adrenaline, so my hands are shaking. I accidentally drop the can on the floor, causing Malone to jump and lumber down the hall. Postie isn’t as easily dissuaded. “Is that what you want to do? Teach me a lesson?” I can’t stop goading him. All this pushing will probably bite me in the ass.
He grunts. “Stop slamming things around. You’re freaking Malone out.”
“Stop spying on me like a dirty daddy.” I wonder where mine is.
“A dirty…” He huffs. “What are you trying to accomplish, Peggy?”
“I came over to feed the cats before bed. That’s it. You’re the one using your spy cams and getting on my ass about my sleepwear. What are you trying to accomplish, Hollis?” I’m acting like a spoiled brat, I realize—behaving like the little girl he’s accused me of being. Maybe because he’s trying to keep me in the Peggy box when I want to be someone else to him. I spoon food into both dishes and move Postie to his bowl when he goes for Malone’s food first.
“I want you to respect my boundaries.”
I whistle and call Malone’s name, but he doesn’t come. Probably because I scared the shit out of him with all my banging around and the loud voices.
“Malone is under my covers,” Hollis says.
“Do I have permission to retrieve him?” I’m all snark with a heaping side of attitude.
“Yes, you have permission to retrieve him.”
I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and return to Hollis’s bedroom. It only takes a moment to coax Malone out from under the covers. I carry him like a baby back to his bowl, pulling Hollis’s bedroom door closed behind me. Postie, as expected, has already eaten half of both bowls. I top up Malone’s dish and distract Postie with petting so Malone can eat his food in peace.
“Peggy?” Hollis’s voice comes from the counter.
“Yup.” I half expected him to hang up by now, since I’m being antagonistic.
“There are a couple of hoodies in the front hall closet.”
