He marches in the direction of the reception desk with such long strides that I have to almost jog to keep up. I grip the towel at my hip to keep it in place.

“Hey!” I say in a shrill whisper to keep from making a scene. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

But he continues without a word, fishing his wallet out of his pocket when the receptionist smiles up at him.

“I’ve got this,” I say quickly.

“No.”

He doesn’t even look at me when he speaks. When Brenda the receptionist swipes his card from his hand and runs it through the card reader, I know I’ve lost. It’s the most confusing, deflated feeling I’ve ever experienced. Yes, what he did was generous. But I don’t understand why. Why in the world would he want to help me, the person he’s supposed to destroy?

Brenda hands Callum a receipt, which he pockets.

She smiles as the cat presses her face against the carrier. “Did you decide on a name for this cutie-pie?”

I blurt the first word that comes to mind. “Lemon.”

“Lemon?” Callum says, clearly confused.

Brenda chuckles sweetly. “Oh, that’s just precious.”

I thank her, grab the carrier, and move to the sitting area by the entrance. Callum follows me.

“I’ll write you a check later. To pay you back,” I mutter while fiddling with the handle of the carrier.

“Not necessary.” He sighs, like he’s annoyed at my presence, even though he’s the one who decided to stand next to me. This guy is impossible to decode.

“Oh, it’s necessary.” I remind myself to rein in my irritated tone.

We’re technically in a public place, and we need to maintain some degree of civility. Every time I fail to get a hold of myself around Callum, I end up in a viral video, and I don’t want that to happen at the vet’s office, of all places.

He crosses his arms, his frown a strange mix of amusement and impatience. Again, his gaze skims my chest, but only for a second before he refocuses. “Why, exactly?”

“Because I don’t need a favor from you.”

“It wasn’t for you. It was for the cat.” His curt words land like a slap to the face. Like I was a fool to assume he would waste such kindness on me.

It’s so obvious now that I think about it. He volunteers at a pet clinic, which means he loves animals—which means he’s the kind of person who would go above and beyond to make sure one of those animals is taken care of.

“I see.” Somehow, I’m able to speak even though my jaw is tense as I attempt to stave off the embarrassment coursing through me. I swallow, taking care that my tone is as curt as his. “Thanks.”