He Thought I Wanted Him I Only Wanted His Cat

Summary

I wanted to stroke the campus heartthrob’s cat.

It was the middle of the night, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I shot him a text.

Avery: Hey, can I stroke it? Just once!

His reply was immediate, and predictably formal.

Rhys: Avery, that's a bit forward.

I pressed on. I knew I was good with my hands.

Avery: I’ve got a great touch, I promise I’ll make it purr! One hand from head to tail, right?

Silence.

An hour later, he finally replied.

Rhys: One hand won't do it.

Rhys: You won't be able to grasp it.