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Charli waves me off. “Don’t worry about him. He sleeps during the day. His chaotic phase doesn’t start until—” She glances at her phone, her eyes going wide when she sees the time. “Whoa. How is it already 8 p.m.?”

“Apparently, the philosophies of sci-fi really get you going.” When another fry hits the side of my face, I chuckle. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Milton is fine during the day, but is he cooped up right now?”

Charli glances hesitantly at the hallway that leads to the guest suite. “I’m sure he’s fine. And anyway, I don’t want him to run around your house.”

“Why? Will he pee on everything?”

“What? No. They only do that when they’re not neutered. But he’ll probably, I don’t know, jump on your furniture.”

I shrug, even though I have no idea what I’m signing up for. “It’s just furniture. You can let him out to roam if you want.”

She still looks skeptical. “You sure?”

When I nod, she sighs.

“Alright. Let’s see what he does.”

I can’t help watching her as she walks away. She’s wearing baggy clothes so I can’t see anything, but it’s the whole package that I’m intrigued by. I already want her back on the couch.

I turn back to the TV where a robotic Arnold Schwarzenegger is currently obliterating his enemies. I really should get some work done. I had an entire to-do list I wanted to cross off today before dinner, and I didn’t get to any of it. I’d say I’d do it tomorrow instead, but if Charli is still here, I’m not sure how⁠—

My thoughts are interrupted by Milton jumping up on the back of the couch, making me startle.

“Holy shit, he’s quiet.” I look up where Charli is walking toward us with a grin. “Is he always that stealthy?”

“Always. Unless he wants to make his presence known, and then he’ll yell until you give in to his demands.”

I stare in horror at this black cat perched right next to my shoulder. “Demands? Is that where the high-maintenance thing comes into play?”

Charli drops onto her spot on the couch. “Precisely.”

I watch Milton for a moment, waiting for him to move, or meow, or do something. “Is he just going to sit there?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“I thought you said he was going to roam around the apartment. He’s just going to sit and stare?”

She narrows her eyes playfully. “Lucas, is this your first time meeting a cat?”

I try to remember a time when I was this close to a cat for an extended period of time and fail. “I think it might be.”

Charli huffs a laugh and reaches up to pet Milton, though only for a moment because Milton nips at her hand in warning.

“Alright, alright, hush. I’m sorry. Go back to your staring.”

I’m gaping at the casual way she deals with his biting when he turns his stare to me. It feels like he’s looking through me.

“He’s kind of terrifying,” I admit.

“Don’t say that out loud. Cats can smell your fear.”

My head whips toward Charli. “Wait, really?”

She rolls her eyes and gestures back toward the TV. “Just…go back to watching the movie.”

“It’s kind of unnerving knowing he’s just sitting there staring at the back of my head,” I murmur. “Has he ever⁠—”

But my question dies in my throat, because Charli chooses that moment to pull her oversized sweatshirt off. And while I’ve seen her in the office wearing flannels and long sleeve shirts, I’ve never seen her in just a tank top.