Smitten Kitten

chapter eight

     "AS A STRONG, independent female in the 21st century, what do you do when you're feeling... sexually frustrated?"

I steal another sip of my cheap, dry wine, tilting my head as I wait for a response. The kitchen tile is cool against my bare thighs, and the floor-to-ceiling windows reveal the blushing notes of twilight outside. There's a warmth buzzing underneath my skin.

The cat, like always, does not respond.

I sigh. "Cleo, I'm gonna be real with you- straight woman to cat here. I need to get laid. Like, yesterday."

Cleo continues to stare, perched on the counter across from me, green eyes piercing into my soul. I feel weirdly comforted by her feline presence, even with her usual look of contempt.

"I hear you, definitely, I should go out. I'm not going to find any solutions to my getting laid problem alone in here, but I'm lazy. I don't want to try. I want something easy. I want... oh man, I'm gonna end up calling Chad tonight aren't I?"

Cleo licks at her paw.

My shoulders slump. "I know, I know- Cleo, I hear you. Chad is... Chad's a bad idea. Yes, his penis is magical. But also, he hates to cuddle. And you know, Cleo, I love to cuddle. So it's definitely a terrible idea," I say, taking another generous sip. "I definitely should not call Chad, no matter what happens."

When Cleo pauses her licking for a moment, wide emerald eyes shifting to me, I take this as a quiet agreement. It sounds like a better idea the more that I say it out loud- remind myself of why he's my ex-boyfriend in the first place.

My thoughts betray me as they wander to thick black frames and coffee dark eyes, but no, I tell myself, that's an even worse idea than Chad. At least I know that Chad sees me as a human being, one he would also like to have sex with, and not some loud, greedy gremlin.

Involuntarily, that hooded gaze from the Chinese food episode flickers in my memory- the incident that apparently ignited this insatiable need inside of me, but even then, it's quickly followed by the ghost of Nat's scolding voice.

Nope- that's not even an option. The options are sleep with Chad, or not sleep with Chad. And the only actual decision should be not sleep with Chad, and continue having one-sided conversation with the most unimpressed cat in the world while drowning myself in cheap box wine.

I hadn't even seen Noel in the last week, and I can't quiet the thought that he's avoiding me. Not that I'd particularly noticed or whatever.

Still, when I heave another sigh, I can feel my resolve crumbling. My phone lays next to me, open on a new text message, with Chad's name written on the top. It's just sex, a traitorous little voice in the back of my head murmurs. It means nothing.

I pout. "Cleo, what do I do?"

"Stop talking to the cat, for one."

I jump at the new presence, staring up with wide eyes to see Nat grinning in the doorway. Her eyebrows are raised, a condescending glimmer in her gaze as she looks from me to the cat.

My brows furrow. "Excuse you, Cleo and I are having a private conversation."

Nat laughs, padding over to where I'm sitting on the floor and wiggling her fingers down to me. "Come on, up, up, let's get you dressed and out of here. The cat might not be able to help you get laid, but I might."

"Nat! You're a taken woman now!" I allow her to pull me up from my sad little spot on the kitchen tile. "You can't throw out propositions like that anymore!"