Summer bit her lips, trying not to laugh again. It made her sides hurt. “You can bring him with you, you know,” she pointed out. “It’ll be like a petting circle. Besides, Helios doesn’t even laugh at himself. Come on … I can see your ears twitching. And you know I like to play with your hair.”
In the end, the lure of petting was too strong. He shifted his hold on the cat and wandered over to Summer, and lowered himself down so he was sitting on the floor by her legs, leaning back against the couch, because that seemed like the done thing to do. Still, he added, “My ears are no indication of my interest. I can’t control them.”
“That,” Summer said, stroking a fingertip along one edge, “is exactly why they are an indicator.” Delicately, she cupped a hand around one ear, brushing upward, smiling at the softness. Long, slow strokes along the length of the ear, while her other hand, arm encased in its cast, buried itself in Tony’s hair, fingertips rubbing his scalp. “So beautiful,” she murmured.