Sex Kittens and Horn Dawgs Fall in Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

floor? Or the quiet-but-not-shy voice he used to ask questions during orientation, like “Will I be able to access the lab during holiday breaks?” (The rest of us were very curious as to why he would need to do that, but that was before we knew about the genius rabbit project.)
    What was it about Matthew that made him stand out in the crowd, a vivid Fujicolor Dawg in a sea of half-ripe Polaroids? I knew I couldn’t take my eyes off him, but why?
    I can’t answer, of course, because the answer is X. Matthew, obviously, has X. Tons of X. Gives it off like sparks. Generates it the way balloons generate static on your hair, the way picnics generate ants.
    I ponder this as I trudge up the stairs, imagining lightning bolts of X flying from Matthew’s fingertips. Each step seems more difficult than the one before, as if gravity is increasing the closer I get to the fifth floor. Which is, of course, impossible, since gravity decreases the farther you get from the center of the earth. But the laws of nature do not apply if the Dawg o’ your dreams is waiting at a higher altitude, under the skylights of the fifth-floor lab, scrubbing out stinky rabbit hutches with a rag and totally, blissfully unaware of the BOMBSHELL OF LOVE you are about to drop upon his sweet head.
    Still fortified by the strains of Kat’s music playing in my mind’s ear (and, for the record, she only had to stop once), I push open the door of the lab.
    The stairwell is dim, but the lab is filled with light. On a sunny day like today, the room warms up and gets humid from all the plants growing under the skylights. I feel my pores opening up and hope the effect is more dewy glow than nervous perspiration. Either way, I’m here.
    So is Matthew. Yellow rubber gloves, a red bandanna tied around his head to keep his hair off his face, a fat, silver-gray rabbit squirming under one arm.
    “Hold Frosty a minute?” he says by way of greeting. I’ve never held Frosty before, but I know he’s Matthew’s favorite.
    Like the genius rabbit he is, Frosty climbs happily into my arms, puts his two silver-tufted front paws on my chest, and touches his nose to mine. Matthew peels off his gloves and goes to wash his hands at the big utility sink by the back wall. Frosty gazes at me, all-knowing. These genius rabbits take some getting used to.
    “Perfect timing. I’m ready for a break,” Matthew calls to me, drying his hands. He chats easily with his dozen or so mentally enhanced bunny friends, who are hopping loose around the lab. “You guys may be smart, but you sure are stinky.”
    Frosty is now snuffling my right ear. I wonder if he’s trying to tell me something. Stop, before it’s too late? Relax, everything will be fine? Or even, Don’t worry, Matthew has been waiting for just this type of moment to confess his secret passion for you? Ha ha, very funny, superbunny.
    I sit down on one of the wooden crates that are scattered around the room and do like Mom does during her morning meditation, which is supposed to make her all chilled out and wise and sagacious like the Dalai Lama (NOT! Aside to Mom: Can’t you just take meds, like the other moms?). Breathe in, breathe out. Frosty seems to like the way my belly moves when I do this, and cuddles against me.
    And then, it happens. I can’t explain it, but somehow, everything seems different, safe, fundamentally okay on the molecular level. Frosty must be offering up some secret bunny mojo, the way Kat’s violin does for her. The part of me that was freaking out seems to go
p ft!
and fly away, and the part of me that’s been aching to tell the truth starts to expand and grow lighter with every deep breath.
    Frosty takes my thumb gently between his teeth and gives it an approving shake. Matthew returns and looks happy to see Frosty so contented in my lap.
    Happy enough to decide he’s actually madly, deeply, and X-cellently in love with me?
    This Kitten is about to find out!
    Here’s the part where I can