Page 62 of Cat’s Guide To Romance

“Because I’m not letting a piece of fabric beat us.”

Ten minutes later, Sparkle is halfway beneath the collapsed tent while I try to pull one of the poles free.

“Stop pushing!” His muffled voice comes from somewhere beneath the green fabric.

“I’m not pushing!”

“Something is touching me!”

“That’s my tail.” I try to lift another section of fabric so I can find him. “I’m trying to figure out where you are.”

A pole pops free. The entire tent shifts, Sparkle yelps, and I lose my balance. A second later, we’re both tangled in fabric on the ground.

For several seconds, neither of us moves. Then Sparkle starts laughing, a full-body, wheezing laugh that makes the tent shake around us. I start laughing too because this is fucking ridiculous. I could teleport us out. I could rebuild the tent with magic. Instead, I’m trapped beneath several pounds of outdoor equipment with a cat shifter who apparently considers surrender a personal failing.

Sparkle finds me beneath the fabric and grabs my shirt. “We suck at camping.”

He laughs again, and then we both seem to realize exactly how close we are. His laughter slowly fades as his eyes drop to my mouth. I know that look. I cup the back of his neck and kiss him.

There isn’t anything tentative about it this time. His mouth moves against mine while his fingers curl into the front of my shirt, and I pull him closer until his chest presses against mine. His purr starts almost immediately, vibrating between us as my hand settles at his waist.

That sound.

Sparkle shifts until he’s partly over me, the collapsed tent forgotten around us. His tail curls around my leg as he kisses me again, then again, each kiss lingering a little longer until I can’t remember why I ever thought fireworks could improve this.

When he pulls back enough to breathe, I chase his mouth and steal another kiss. Sparkle laughs against my lips. He kisses me again.

Eventually, Sparkle rests his forehead against mine. His cheeks are pink, his lips a little swollen from kissing, and his eyes are so bright.

“This was better than the cat café,” he whispers.

“I liked the cat café.”

“An orange cat insulted my mother.”

“He was an asshole, and I don’t even speak the language.”

Sparkle smacks my shoulder, and I laugh before stealing another kiss. Something cold lands on my cheek while I’m still smiling against his mouth, followed by another drop against my forehead.

Sparkle looks upward, even though all we can see is green tent fabric. The pattering gets louder. Sparkle’s eyes widen.

Water begins leaking through the collapsed fabric and dripping onto us. Sparkle bursts out laughing as I glare at the steadily darkening patch above my head.

“I planned this date very carefully!”

“You checked the weather, right?”

I say nothing.

Rain pours harder against the tent. Sparkle stares at me for one long second before grabbing my face and kissing me again.

When he pulls away, he’s grinning. “Hotel?”

“Thank fuck.”

I snap my fingers, and the forest disappears. So does the rain, the collapsed tent, the fire, and every other piece of camping equipment I am absolutely not coming back for tonight.

We land in a warm hotel room still tangled together, Sparkle laughing against my chest. I tighten my arms around him and kiss the top of one fluffy ear. “Camping was a success.”