Chapter 3

Liam grabbed my back leg, and let me tell you, it felt all kinds of wrong. I wanted to kick him away, but I knew he was just patching up my wound.

I clenched my jaw when he yanked the glass shard out of my leg. That I could deal with.

But the second he slapped that iodine-soaked cotton ball on the cut? Hell no, I was outta there.

My front paws flared out, claws popping like I was ready to shred something.

I couldn't just flail around, though, so I stayed put and let out a wail. "Mrow! Mrow mrow mrow!"

Damn Caleb. If it wasn't for that jerk, I wouldn't have been such a hot mess.

Wanna ditch me? Just say it, dude. No need to screw with my feelings.

Once I was back in fighting shape, oh, he was gonna get an earful.

"Chill, chill," Liam kept saying, trying to soothe me.

But I wasn't having it. I kept hissing and yowling, mad as hell and feeling sorry for myself.

I didn't even clock that he'd scooped me up and hauled me to his room.

Only after I'd raged myself out did it hit me—holy catnip, I was in a human's bedroom, their sacred no-cat zone.

Liam plopped me on a cushy rug, and then—get this—started stripping off his soggy clothes right in front of me.

No hesitation, just bam, shirt gone.

My big ol' kitty eyes practically bugged out.

Back with Caleb, I wasn't even allowed near his bedroom. Even in human form, I only snuck in to babysit him when he was plastered.

And changing in front of me? Pfft, Caleb might've yanked off his tie or undone a couple buttons, max.

But Liam? He didn't give a whisker. He peeled everything off like I was just part of the furniture.

The guy was ripped—broad chest, tight abs, with my scratch marks adding some wild-man vibes.

His back was solid, muscles carved like he lived at the gym.

Honestly, checking out a hot dude was the quickest way to shake off my pity party.

Liam grabbed a cotton ball and started dabbing his scratches.

I limped over, dragging my busted leg, and parked myself by his feet to scope out his wounds. Gotta make sure he was good.

"See how sharp those claws are, huh?" he teased.

I glanced at my paws, staring at those overgrown, raggedy nails. Guilt hit me like a hairball.

I tucked my claws under my chest and flopped onto the rug.

Even in human form, I'd noticed my nails were getting wild, but I wasn't about to trim them myself.

What kinda cat clips their own nails? That's the owner's job, duh.

So I just let them go, watching as my nails got longer and my fur turned into a real mess.

Liam threw on some pajamas, crouched next to me, and gave my head a quick rub before tossing me a fish treat.

Man, that thing was heaven.

I chomped away, drowning my sorrows, when he scooped me up again.

Before I could blink, snip snip snip—he was trimming my nails like a pro.

I froze, staring up at him.

Liam glanced down, gave me a little nod, and before I knew it, he had finished my other paw.

"Good girl, best cat ever," he said, moving to my back paws.

I sat there on the carpet, watching Liam carefully snip my claws, and gave him a little meow.

"What's wrong?" he asked, glancing up at me.

I meowed again, just feeling stuff. Kinda bittersweet, you know? No real reason, just needed to meow.

"Hurt ya? I'll go lighter," he said, easing up.

When he was done, he even pulled out a little comb and started brushing my fur.

Man, it'd been ages since anyone treated me like a princess.

To be looked after so carefully… I'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel that special to someone.

By the time Liam crashed on the bed, it was late as hell.

The rain outside was still pounding, and even with the windows shut, I could hear the wind howling like crazy.

I shifted to human form, and the bandage on my leg ripped apart—too small for my bigger size.

I shot a final glance at Liam sleeping on the bed, then made a beeline for the bay window. I twisted the handle and was ready to haul myself out.

Rain streamed in on the gusting wind, splattering against my face.

He was a solid dude, but no way was I falling for that trap again.