Page 54 of Keystrokes and Kittens

He arched an eyebrow.

“Much.” I raised the lid, flipped the burgers, and put the lid back down. “Look—” I took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m a grown-up. I chose to prioritize other things in the last month—”

“Soren.” With disappointment.

I winced again. “All right. I was wrong. I just didn’t want you worrying about me while you dealt with all the other shit you had on your plate.”

“I can do two things at once. Hell, I’ve been juggling ten balls in the air since everyone died. Everyone except Quinta.” He bit his lower lip.

“Exactly. So you added yet another ball with the kittens. Instead of letting them all fall—I’ve tried to give you a hand. Done everything I can to facilitate you surviving. And you have. We all have. Dr. Malcolm said the kittens are in perfect health, and they’ve had their first shots. They’re eating food. You can start looking for homes for them—”

This time, he winced.

“—or we can figure out how to kitten-proof my house.” I shot him a quick glance before opening the lid of the grill again. This time, I put the corn and kebobs on the other half, checked the burgers, and then finally dared to look at Sam. “Or we can determine how to integrate them into your house.”

He rubbed his nose. “What are you trying to say?”

God, what am I trying to say? It’s been a month. Am I really ready for this.

Fuck.

Yes. Yes, I am.

“What I’m trying to say—badly—is that I want you to consider moving in with me. Temporarily—for now.”

He laughed. A little gratingly. “Soren, I haven’t spent more than five minutes in my house since I came to yours. I practically do live here. Which is, I think, part of the issue.”

“What do you mean?” I rotated the corn and checked to ensure the kebobs weren’t singeing.

“That if you wanted me to really be here, then you would’ve been honest with me.”

Ouch.

Yeah…but he’s not wrong.

Before I could say anything, though, he let out a breath. “And we still haven’t addressed the elephant in the room.”

I could guess what he was referring to. But it would be just a guess. “That is?”

Again with the arched eyebrow. “The fact we haven’t done more than kissing or cuddling.”

After holding his gaze as long as I dared, I eyed the kebobs and decided they needed to be rotated. I turned the corn again. Just to be on the safe side. “Have I given you any indication—and I mean any little, tiny thing—that I’m unhappy with our relationship with way it is right now?”

He smothered a sigh.

Or at least that’s what it looked like to me. He rubbed his hand over his face, gazed upward, then finally looked back at me.

Fuck. I want to see his eyes so badly. I need to know what he’s thinking.

Still, I held myself still.

“No.” He put his hands on his hips. “But you also shut me down every time I try to talk about it. I’m so freaking grateful to have help with the kittens that I haven’t even really contemplated anything else.”

I grabbed the plate that had held the kebobs. “Well, I’m asking you to contemplate more.” Gingerly, I lifted each off the grill and put them on the plate. “I’m going to need another plate. And did we decide if we’re eating out here?”

“Just give me thirty seconds.”

I gave the corn a nudge so it wouldn’t burn, and turned my attention to Sam. “I’m listening.”