“Yeah, it’s not something a guy wants to bring up on a date.” He shrugged. “Like, hey, my ex-wife really reamed me in the divorce, so I’m rooming with a friend until I can get back on my feet.”

She felt bad for being so judgmental. Reaching out with her free hand, she touched his knee. “You could’ve brought it up. I get it. I’m divorced too, remember?”

“Yeah, but you seem to have gotten your shit together.”

“I’ve had a lot more years than you.”

His face moved a little closer, his lips twitching at the corners. “What you’re saying is that it gets easier?”

“It does get easier,” Whitney said emphatically. “And better. You’ll see.”

He abandoned his wine on the coffee table and lifted his hand to graze her face. “Oh, I’m already seeing that it gets better.”

Whitney’s heart flipped in her chest. She’d barely set her wine down on the coffee table when Jay’s lips found hers. His hands moved to her hair, and she scooted closer to him, grasping his shoulders. A scratching sound caught her attention. She stiffened, tearing her lips away. “Your roommate isn’t home right now, is he?”

“He’s not supposed to be.”

Biting her lip, she glanced over his shoulder. The noise seemed to have come from one of the bedrooms. “I think I heard something, though.”

“I’ll check, if it makes you feel better.” He cocked his head to the side.

It was probably overkill, but she nodded. When he got up from the couch, she wondered if this would be their last date. Her anxiety wasn’t her most attractive quality. She was one of those people who checked the doors multiple times to make sure they were locked before going to bed. Or walked through parking lots, eyes scanning the area around her, hands gripping her keys as if ready to use as a weapon if need be. Her mom used to say she had an overactive imagination. That might be true, but she couldn’t help it. Still, she usually tried to keep it in check, hidden, until she’d been with a guy for more than a couple months.

But maybe it was okay that Jay was getting a glimpse of it. He would eventually, right?

“It was the cat.” Jay sauntered back in the room wearing a grin.

“A cat?” He hadn’t mentioned a cat, but that would explain the smell. Whitney peered down at the ground, her nose scrunching. And the hair.

“Yeah. Sorry. I sometimes forget about the little guy.” After plunking down next to her, he drew her close. “But don’t worry, he agreed to give us our privacy.”