"His name is Rocky," Drew replied, then lowered her hand to invite Rocky to come closer. He immediately moved toward her to rub his face against her hand and silently beg for behind-the-ear scratches, purring loudly.
"Rocky, huh?" Heath said. "As in, Balboa?"
Drew laughed. "No. Although, he thinks he's tough when he's squaring off against the alley cats. Through the window, that is." She ran her hand along Rocky's back as it arched and scratched the area where tail met rump. Rocky's purrs grew louder. "I named him Rocky because of those dark gray rings circling his tail. It reminded me of a raccoon tail."
Rocky jumped agilely onto the couch, stepping over Drew's lap as he moved toward Heath. Heath didn't move but his eyes followed the cat's movements as he got closer. Finally, Heath extended a hand slowly and Rocky sniffed at it delicately. Apparently approving of Heath's scent, he leaned his head against his hand and rubbed.
"Is that ok?" Drew asked. "Are you okay with cats, are you allergic or anything?"
Heath shook his head, his eyes still on the cat. "Not allergic. Not a huge cat fan, but he seems cool enough." Rocky crept closer, swiping his cheeks against Heath's forearm before gently butting his head into Heath's bicep.
"Aw," Drew crooned gently. "He likes you."
Heath glanced at her, then back down at the loudly purring cat. "Why do you say that?"
"He bunted you," she said, then smiled at Heath's confused expression. "Bunting is where cats knock their heads against you lightly. It's a form of affection for a human. He bunts me all the time. Usually against my chest." She shook her head slightly and laughed.
"Huh," Heath said absently, looking back down at the cat. "Can't say I blame him."
Drew's head snapped up but Heath never looked at her. Finally, he lifted his hand and scratched Rocky behind the ears as Drew had done. Rocky's eyes closed to slits as he leaned euphorically into Heath's scratch. Drew's eyes flickered between her pet and Heath, and she bit back a grin when a half-smile finally crossed Heath's face.
"I guess you're all right, buddy," he murmured to the cat, moving his fingers to scratch below his chin. After a few moments of Heath's ministering, Rocky abruptly decided he'd had enough and moved back toward Drew, crawling into her lap and raising himself up on his hind legs, pressing his front paws hard into her chest as he leaned into her face.
"What's that about?" Heath asked, chuckling lightly at the sight as Drew tried to push him down. He refused to budge.
"He's hungry, that's all," Drew sighed. "It's his dinnertime." Suddenly she remembered the purpose of Heath's visit and glanced over Rocky's head at him. "Are you hungry?"
"Sure," Heath said, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees.
"Okay. I made grilled chicken salads with feta and grilled flatbread. Is that okay? I tried to make something healthy since I know you're training."
Heath bobbed his head agreeably. "Sounds good. Thank you."
"All right. The bathroom is around the corner, first door on the left if you want to wash your hands. Get off me, Rock," she added to the cat, scooping him up and setting him down on the floor. She got up to move into the kitchen, Rocky at her heels. She scooped some cat food into his bowl and he dove in, somehow managing to purr as he ate.
Drew washed her hands at the sink and dried them, then fixed the salads quickly and warmed the pita in her microwave. She heard Heath in her bathroom washing his hands. She carried the plates back into the living room and set them down on the coffee table as he walked back in, his sleeves pushed up his forearms.
"I have iced tea, lemonade, water," Drew said, ticking off on her fingers. "Hot tea. Wine."
Wine? she thought. Why would you even present that as an option?
"Iced tea is fine with me," Heath replied, sitting back down on the couch. "Thanks."
Drew retrieved his requested beverage and a bottle of water for herself and returned to the living room, seeing Heath sitting still with his eyes closed. She realized he was praying and quietly took her seat on the couch, not wanting to disrupt him. She said her own brief prayer and quickly crossed herself as Heath opened his eyes and looked at her. He glanced down at his plate.
"This looks really good," he said, sounding impressed. "You made this?"
Drew nodded modestly. "Yes. Don't be fooled. It was really easy. I can't cook very well." She speared a piece of chicken timidly and watched from under her lashes as he took a bite. He chewed for a moment then nodded.
"It's great," he said.
She smirked and tore off a piece of pita. "I'm not sure I believe you would tell me even if it wasn't," she teased. She was feeling more and more at ease with each passing moment. "You're too nice for that."