21. ALEXI

Nowhere ever felt like home, nowhere ever felt like I was sticking around for longer than a few weeks or a couple months at the most. I moved so much as a child, even when I lived with my mother, and she promised me she'd be there.

I stopped trusting people and what they said, I let it slip by me now with their lies, their promises, and fake smiles.

Part of me wondered how Warren had made the cut. He was nice from the first time we met. He made me feel comfortable, even if he did force me to go for coffee. It was a nice type of force, the in it together, hand-holding type.

I didn't even realise he was into me. I thought he was being kind because I was new, and I didn't have friends. Even now, I barely spoke to Benny. I still considered him a friend, and I missed talking to him, but he hurt Warren and his friend, and I didn't want him to hurt me.

Warren was sweet, probably to a fault, letting me cuddle up to him all hours of the day and night. When I was around him, I didn't feel the need to recharge as much. But I still felt the need to be doing something other than playing with Sugar, waiting for him to grow bigger.

I heard the door open. Laid on my back, dressed in my Totoro onesie with Sugar on my chest. I lifted my head. The film I'd watched was rolling through credits now and I was trying to summon the mood to do something.

"You're back," I called out.

"And I have good news," he said, "I also picked up KFC, with one of those milkshakes. A strawberry one."

Moving Sugar aside, I jumped from the sofa, nearly falling flat on my face from the slip beneath the feet of the onesie.

"Oh, steady," he chuckled as I held the side of the couch.

The smell of fried chicken travelled through the air. I inhaled deep, my tongue hanging out the side of my mouth.

"What did you do for the rest of the day?" he asked, "other than climb inside that onesie."

"I took more pictures, and there are these really funny filters, you should see them on Sugar, one of them gives him human teeth." Recalling it back again, I chuckled harder.

"Well, I spoke to my friend at Pink Paws, and he said they will have some jobs going."

I squealed, my hands clenching the side of my face with excitement. "Seriously? Like, just playing with cats and kittens. I can do that so well. I'm basically a cat."

He wiggled his brows at me. "I thought you were my cream puff."

"I am, but around cats I'm a cat," I told him.

"And around giant teddy bears, what are you?"

"Asleep," I chuckled. That was true though, they were comfy, it was impossible not to fall asleep when you were next to one, especially when it felt like they were hugging you back.

"Right, right, of course," he said, pulling at the tie around his neck. "I think we should celebrate that then."

"Actually, I was thinking, it's your birthday soon."

"In three months."

"That's soon," I said.

"Well, I'd like to stay thirty for as long as possible," he said. "Thirty-one just doesn't have the same ring to it."

Sitting on the floor, I folded my arms. "Well, I was thinking—"

"Ok, baby," he said, "what were you thinking?"

Puffing my cheeks, I sighed. "I don't know what to get you," I confessed. "So, what do you want for your birthday?"

"Better question," he said, rustling the plastic bag to unbox the food. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Mine's next year."

"Fine," he chuckled. "I want you to be happy. And I want it to be a secret. Once everyone knows I'm thirty-one, that's when the silver will start coming through."

"Silver Daddy," the words slipped from my mouth.

"Oh, you like that?" His wide smile chewed into the dimple on his cheek. "My dad, my granddad, they all went silver young-ish."

I couldn't imagine him silver. He didn't have a thick head of hair. It was short, black, matching the colour of his chest hair. "You'd match with Sugar," I said.

"And then you'd have to dye your hair," he said, wiggling his brows. "We could all be silver."

I wasn't sure how much I liked that idea. I'd never dyed my hair, and I'd never thought about it either. I'd thought of cutting it all off, but those were moments of madness, and I didn't feel madness around him. It was a nice feeling, a warm feeling, tickling my stomach. It was like drinking a warm coffee, followed by an ice pop—sometimes a dangerous game to play.

He knelt at my level as I sat on the ground. "You're my favourite," he said, hooking his arms beneath me. He lifted me up. I was light in his arms. Immediately, I wrapped my legs around his waist. "You know, I love you, right?" he said.

"I love you too," I whispered, placing my chin on his shoulder, hugging him tight with my legs at his waist and my arms around his chest.

He kissed my cheek. "So, you sit here, I'll bring you food and your milkshake, and we'll talk about what my friend told me about the café."

I squeezed him tighter in my legs at the mention of the café. I was excited to be around all those cats and maybe find Sugar a friend, or maybe even a partner. I wasn't sure if he was straight or gay, we hadn't talked about that yet, but I'm sure as he gets older, he'd let us know.

Gently placed on the sofa, Warren kissed my forehead. "Stay there. I'll be back with your food. Don't move a muscle. Not until later."

"I won't," I said, taking extra precautions and an extra seriousness to my role of staying still, even if the softness of the couch meant I was wiggling to stay up. "If I get a job, does that mean you only get half a million hugs and kisses?"

He chuckled. "If anything, it means I want more."

"I'll make a start on those later then."

"The interest rate on hugs and kisses is sky high."

"Oh no, we'll have to talk to the bank about that because we need to figure out a better payment plan," I giggled, playing along with the joke.

Warren came back over after placing the chicken and fries out on one of my portioned plastic plates. "Since I'm the bank, I'm going to have to refuse any changes to the plan," he said. "In fact, the only change that's going to happen is the addition of tickles."

I was already far too ticklish at the idea of tickles, he didn't even need to carry them out. "I hope you've been counting then, because I haven't."

"Yeah, sure, of course. You've done like—one, maybe two hundred kisses."

"You're lying!"

"Daddy wouldn't lie."

That was right. Daddy wouldn't lie, or at least he shouldn't lie. "Maybe two hundred thousand kisses!"

He clicked his tongue and winked at me. "I think that sounds more like it."

I didn't mind giving him more kisses, but he would need to keep me topped up with lip balm, otherwise my mouth would get dry and chapped, and those lips were not cute for kissing.