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Chapter 11 - Spitfire
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2025-06-30 18:00:36The kittens were chaos wrapped in fur. Perfect, tiny chaos, but chaos nonetheless.
Mochi, for example, already fancied herself a tiny menace. All black, sleek as midnight, with claws that always seemed sharper than nature intended. She squirmed and hissed at shadows in her sleep, a tiny dictator of darkness. Goose. Poor, delusional Goose thought he was a tiger. Bold orange stripes, puffed chest, constantly crawling over his siblings like he was conquering uncharted territory, never mind that his eyes hadn’t even opened yet.
Nova, sharp little flame of a kitten, had already proven herself the explorer. She got turned around once, climbed straight out of the nest to chew on the human male’s hoodie string, and would probably try to take on the world the moment her legs cooperated. Freya, my proud tortie daughter, was… regal. The clear heir to my throne, if not in age then certainly in attitude. She mewed orders, and the others complied or tried to.
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The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 14 - Ofelia
Sleep wasn’t happening.I’d been lying here for the better part of an hour, staring at the water-stained ceiling of this glorified shoebox, running through every breathing exercise I’d ever learned in a textbook and still, no luck. My pulse was too wired. My thoughts wouldn’t shut up.Mostly, it was because of him.Across the room, in the other bed, Zach lay sprawled out on his back, one arm crooked behind his head, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. His stupid, infuriatingly solid chest. Which, unfortunately, I’d caught a glimpse of earlier… dripping wet… courtesy of my own mortifying timing.I groaned under my breath and rolled to my side, glaring at the clock glowing from the bedside table—12:47 a.m.Brilliant.At least the room was quiet now. The kittens were asleep in their box, Spitfire curled around them like a furry, calico barrier to the world. Her tail twitched every so often as if she were standing guard even in sleep.Meanwhile, I was battling the swirling mess
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 13 - Zach
The door clicked shut behind her brother, and for a long moment, the room just…settled. The tension diffused like air hissing out of a tire, replaced by something quieter, but not entirely comfortable. Ofelia still wasn’t looking at me, her shoulders tight, pretending to be very busy fussing with the kittens. I leaned against the dresser again, arms crossed, watching her rearrange towels around the nesting box like she was defusing a bomb. Ace was a lot. Protective, loud, good with the verbal jabs. He reminded me a little of my current crew at the fire station and, more so, of my crew from Ravenwood. You know the type of guys who masked concern with teasing because being vulnerable outright wasn’t exactly our go-to. But under all that bluster? His worry for her was real. Couldn’t blame him. She was doing everything to convince the world, and herself, that she had this under control. The problem was, I’d seen the cracks in the armor already. Ofelia adjusted the towel for the third t
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 12 - Ofelia
I never realized how small this hotel room was until Zach Dayton’s shoulders were in it. Broad, firefighter-built, entirely too distracting shoulders that somehow made the space feel even more cramped than it already was.We were trying to reorganize, the polite term for cleaning the disaster zone that had exploded in the twenty-four hours since I moved in with a traumatized pregnant cat, six newborn kittens, and a growing stack of takeout containers. But mostly, we were trying not to trip over each other, the luggage, or the cluster of curious, wobbly kittens that occasionally ventured too far from Spitfire’s carefully guarded nesting box.“Remind me again how this much laundry exists when you barely brought anything from your apartment?” Zach asked, scooping up an armful of clean clothes and tossing me an amused look over his shoulder.“It’s mostly towels and blankets,” I muttered, trying to untangle a hoodie from the mess on the second bed. “For the kittens. Or Spitfire’s throne. Or
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 11 - Spitfire
The kittens were chaos wrapped in fur. Perfect, tiny chaos, but chaos nonetheless.Mochi, for example, already fancied herself a tiny menace. All black, sleek as midnight, with claws that always seemed sharper than nature intended. She squirmed and hissed at shadows in her sleep, a tiny dictator of darkness. Goose. Poor, delusional Goose thought he was a tiger. Bold orange stripes, puffed chest, constantly crawling over his siblings like he was conquering uncharted territory, never mind that his eyes hadn’t even opened yet.Nova, sharp little flame of a kitten, had already proven herself the explorer. She got turned around once, climbed straight out of the nest to chew on the human male’s hoodie string, and would probably try to take on the world the moment her legs cooperated. Freya, my proud tortie daughter, was… regal. The clear heir to my throne, if not in age then certainly in attitude. She mewed orders, and the others complied or tried to.
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 10 - Ofelia
After Zach left, the energy in the hotel room seemed to change. The warmth and sunshine that I’d felt while he was here left with him. Instead, I was left with the cold gray world of reality. I was living in a two-star extended-stay hotel with the belongings I was able to salvage from my apartment.I lost so much in that fire. I may not have had a vast wardrobe, but getting the smell of smoke out of some of my nicer pieces was impossible. I frowned as I booted up my laptop, thankful that it had survived, and then opened my budget spreadsheet and my bank account. I had itemized every expense and was working on a timeline for paying those expenses against my income.My residency earns me about 50k a year after taxes. So, even before the fire, I was stretching 4167 a month. To some people, that likely sounds like a lot. I budgeted that money wise
The Purrfect Wingman Chapter 9 - Zach
Walking back into the station felt weird. Not bad—just off. Like I’d stepped back into a version of my life that no longer fit the same way it had forty-eight hours ago. The overhead fluorescents buzzed faintly above me as I made my way past the gear lockers and toward the main office, the weight of sleep deprivation starting to settle behind my eyes.I hadn’t gone home yet. My jeans felt stiff from yesterday, my hoodie smelled faintly like cat fur and cheap hotel soap, and I was 99% sure there was some stray litter stuck to my left boot. I’d meant to grab a change of clothes before heading in, but I was more focused on talking to my Captain about time off than going home to wash up and change clothes.Captain Reyes looked up as I knocked once and pushed open her office door. She was halfway through a protein bar and typing with the intensity of someone trying to beat the clock.“Dayton,” she said, then squinted. “You smell like a vet clinic.”“Hotel room
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