“I’m fine,” Grey snaps.
“Oh, that’s his stubborn ass voice,” Zen replies cheerfully.
“It’s charming. Can you please come home and check on him?”
“Probably just got lightheaded.”
“Does that happen often?”
“I’m standing right here,” Grey says.
“And you’re using your stubborn ass voice,” I snap back. “Also, my dog is freaking out, which means someone else needs to check on you.”
“Wow. This is fascinating,” Zen says. “I’ll text him a picture of penis latte art, and if he doesn’t flip me off in response, make him lie down and put his feet up.”
I almost choke on my tongue. Make him lie down and put his feet up? Are they pranking me, or is something legit wrong here? “Oh my god.”
“I know. Penis latte art is extreme, but I like to remind him life could be worse.”
“The other thing.”
“Oh. That. He won’t die.”
“Oh my god.”
“Still standing right here.” Grey presses his palms into his eyes, clearly standing on his own just fine, but Zen isn’t making me feel any better.
Nor is Jitter.
My dog is still laying across Grey’s feet, whining and pressing his body to Grey’s legs while the man himself leans against the wall under the stairs.
“For real, he’s only had one trip in an ambulance, and his stress levels are much lower here compared to then, even if he’s making things worse on himself with this Super Villain Man plan.”
“I swear to caramel macchiatos, if you’re fucking with me right now—”
Grey moves, and I cut myself off to point him toward the couch. “Lay down.”
“I’m fine,” he says.
“He’s grumpy again. Like, worse grumpy. Is that a good or a bad sign?” I ask Zen.
“He has a minor circulation issue that may or may not clear itself up if he can reduce his stress levels, so he should probably not be grumpy. Did you do something?”
“Are you helping or hurting with the stress levels?”
“Helping. Duh. You? What did you do to stress him out? Did you pull out the powdered cheese again?”
Am I having blood pressure issues now too? I do believe I am. “I walked my dog.”
“Aww, Jitter’s such a good dog. Hey, has he checked his phone? I texted him.”
“Check your phone,” I tell Grey when I realize Zen didn’t mean Jitter needed to check his phone.
Grey looks at the dog, then at me, and he sighs as he sinks to the floor. “My phone stresses me out.”
“He needs to change his number, but he won’t listen to me no matter how many penis latte art pictures I send him,” Zen says. “Oh, yes, there it is. He’s flipped off my latte art in text. He’s fine. Go about your day with a clear conscience, and thank you for your good deed.”
“My—”
The line clicks dead.
“—pleasure,” I finish.
Minor circulation issue? Super Villain Man?
“You can go,” he says stiffly, not looking at me.
Jitter lifts his head and licks Grey’s face.
His whole face.
The whole damn thing.
Instead of grimacing and shoving him away though, Grey half smiles and rubs Jitter behind the ears. “Knock it off, pup. I’m fine.”
Still not looking at me.
I sink to the carpet and cross my legs, watching him. “So, Super Villain Man?”
He sighs and swipes his face. “You’re fired.”
“You’re gonna have to put more oomph behind that for me to believe it.”
“Fine. You’re not fired. But please go home.”
“With or without my dog?”
“Leave him here.”
My heart melts into a puddle of sappy, gooey, warm puddles of lovey-dovey crap that I absolutely do not have the bandwidth for.
I pull my knees to my chest and loop my arms around them, watching him not watch me while he loves on my dog, who’s attempting to climb in the man’s lap again. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Those hooded blue eyes lift and meet my gaze head-on, and my stomach drops like I’m on the best of the best roller coaster. “You have a code.”
“I have to, or I can’t live with myself.”
His focus on me doesn’t waver, and my arms break out in goosebumps.
So intense.
And I like it.
I like him.
Despite every reason I shouldn’t, despite all of my own misgivings about liking anyone, I like him.