I was not going to mess this up.

I was not going to mess this up.

I was not going to—

Do a damn thing, because Isaac’s car wasn’t there.

Ugh!

I dropped my head back in frustration. This was supposed to be my out, and now, I was even more screwed.

I had to call. I literally had no choice; if I didn’t, I was a bad pet owner.

For the cat that wasn’t my cat, but whatever.

Was I shallow enough that I cared what my hot, dirty-talking neighbor thought about me?

Hell yeah I was.

Anyone would be. Anyone who said otherwise was a goddamn liar.

With a sigh, I turned around and let myself back into my house. I could go by the vets and check myself, but I still had to dry my hair and get to work on time since I was opening the art store today.

Eeeee.

That was the exact noise my brain made as I headed back into my room to blow dry my hair. It was like all the air was being sucked out my brain and funneled out through my ears or something, because the realization that I had to call Isaac, no matter what, was soul-crushing.

Sure, I could go by at lunch, but that made me a horrible person.

Besides, I promised I’d call. And unlike half the guys I’d ever met in my life, I kept my word.

I know. I was a rare breed.

Well, I kept it unless I forgot.

Instead of just calling Isaac and getting it over and done with, I delayed the inevitable and picked up my hairdryer. Twenty minutes later, I’d successfully tamed my apparently enviably thick hair into something that didn’t look like a rat’s nest.

Seriously—everyone wanted thick hair until they molted enough to make their very own Cousin It in the shower.

Unless someone was going to send me the Gomez Addams to go with it, I was never going to like the furball that left my scalp every time I washed my hair.

Thank God I wasn’t a cat. That’s all I was saying.

I ran the flat iron through my hair until it no longer looked like I’d stuck my fingers through a power outlet, then used it to make loose curls that fell over my shoulders. It took me a few more minutes to do my makeup, but as soon as that was done, I stopped and stared at my phone.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

I would have to deal with the outcome later.

Swallowing hard, I picked up my phone and dialed Isaac’s number. I hung up quickly before it could even ring and threw my phone on the bed.

Nope. Couldn’t do it.

Jesus, I had no choice. What was wrong with me?

I retrieved it from its burrow in my unmade bed and called him again. This time, it rang three times before the line clicked and there was a deep, “Hello?” rumbling in my ear.