Dances with Monsters(81)

"What's that?" she exclaimed, stepping back to let him in. He shuffled the toothpick in his mouth to the other corner and leaned down to lazily press the side of his mouth into her cheek, making her dimple deeper. And that made him smile wider before he quickly looked away and shook his head. As she shut the door and relocked it, she glanced over her shoulder, pleased with the comfortable way he dropped onto her sofa, setting the containers on the coffee table to pet Rocky, who immediately jumped onto the couch and stepped into his lap.

"Hey, man," he said to the cat quietly, scratching him on the top of his head between his ears. Rocky's eyes squeezed shut and he leaned into Heath's hand in ecstasy, his tail curling at the tip. For a moment, the only noise was his loud purring.

"Looks like Rocky's claimed you for his own, now," Drew observed, moving toward the sofa and sitting down, tucking her feet underneath her.

"What do you mean?" Heath asked, his fingers moving to scratch the side of Rocky's face. The cat swiped his cheeks against Heath's hand then stepped closer, bunting him in the chest softly before stretching up to swipe either side of his face against Heath's jacket.

"He's marking you," Drew said. Heath glanced up at her, cocking an eyebrow.

"He's not gonna piss on me or something is he?" he demanded.

Drew laughed out loud. "No," she reassured him. "I mean…I don't think so. Maybe. He's never been around a boy before."

"Not even your dad?" Heath asked.

"He doesn't like cats, so whenever he comes over I have to put Rocky in the bathroom until he leaves," Drew explained.

"Yeah, he doesn't strike me a cat person," Heath commented. "Or an animal person, really."

"He's not," Drew confirmed. "I wanted to get a small dog too but he refused. He said whenever I'd like to move out and start paying rent I can do whatever I want." She laughed.

"I dunno," Heath said. "Not paying rent might be worth not getting a dog for a while."

Drew shrugged and smirked. "Maybe." Her eyes flickered to the cardboard bowls on the coffee table. "Which one is mine?"

Heath smiled and leaned forward, picking up a bowl and handing it over. Drew took it eagerly and peered down at it as she popped the clear plastic dome lid off. She saw two shades of brown-colored, slightly melted frozen yogurt with a variety of junky toppings, just like she liked.

"What have we here?" she murmured, accepting the plastic orange spoon he offered her as well. She took a bite of each. She tasted her favorite flavor, peanut butter cup, and took a second small bite of the other, letting the rich, savory and sweet flavor flow over her tongue. "Salted caramel?" she asked.

Heath nodded. "I tried that pie you gave me," he said. "And it was really good. I was thinking about what you said about salty/sweet flavors and thought you might like that."

"I do," she replied. She glanced at him from under her lashes. "A lot." He leaned back against the sofa cushion and studied her, shifting the toothpick in his mouth around. Her face started to heat up and she glanced back down at her yogurt. "What did you get?" she asked, clearing her throat. "Something boring, I'm sure."

He laughed and reached for his bowl. "Yeah. Sorry to disappoint."

Drew clicked on her television and scrolled through the channels as they ate their snacks. As she breezed past ESPN, she doubled back, seeing the word "Smackdown" flash across the screen. Heath glanced up at the screen as the report said that now, due to state MMA regulations, the number of fighters had been doubled in respect to the size of the purse. Drew glanced at Heath.

"What's this mean for you?" she asked, then realized that was probably a stupid question, and said so. "Sorry. I don't know the first thing about MMA."

"No, it's okay," Heath said, setting his empty bowl back on the coffee table. "It just means that my chances of winning have statistically plummeted." He shrugged. "And it'll be a long weekend."

"Oh," Drew said. "I got it." She swirled her yogurt around. "But plummeted, though? Really? You're really good."

Heath half-smiled, still watching the screen. "Thanks," he said. "I said statistically. That's where all my training comes in." He glanced over at her. "In that sense, my odds are the same as everyone else's, roughly. Could be better or worse, depending on how they've trained and their overall skill and talent."

Drew nodded thoughtfully at his words, pulling her spoon slowly out of her mouth. She pointed it at him. "What's your song gonna be?"