Page 23 of Maggie

Wylder followed her inside and pushed the door closed behind them with his foot.

“How was your trip?” he asked.

“It went fine.” She walked to the couch and sat down.

“Buzz, sit,” Wylder commanded.

Buzz immediately sat down diagonally from her. He obeyed the command, but anxiously. He laid down, sat up, and shuffled his feet, impatiently awaiting Wylder’s permission to approach Maggie.

Maggie continued. “Nothing exciting happened this time.”

Wylder laughed. “This time?”

She smiled. Her thoughts drifted back to the streaker. “This time.”

“Are you going to elaborate?”

“Nope.” She grinned mischievously.

He laughed. “Fine, keep your secrets. Could I find whatever happened online?”

“Yes.”

Wylder laughed and shook his head. “I’m not going to look. I don’t want to know.”

“It’s probably best if you don’t,” she agreed. “I’m sure the media blurred the pictures, but there’s no need to subject yourself to that.”

He laughed.

Wylder set the pizza and drinks on the coffee table and settled onto the couch. He flipped open the pizza box lid and passed a slice of the supreme pie to Maggie, then he opened a bottle of Woodchuck’s and handed it to her, as well. She took them with a “thanks” and watched as he picked up a slice of his own pizza and ate a bite.

Wylder leaned back in his seat, swallowed, and asked, “So, you have your pick of TV channels, Netflix, or Amazon Prime. Any preference on what reality TV show we watch? I’m partial to reruns of MXC myself.”

“That sounds great. I haven’t seen MXC in forever.”

“MXC it is. When you’re done with your pizza, if you don’t mind, it looks like Buzz is anxious to say hello.” He gestured to the dog, who huffed and settled down with his face on his paws to wait.

* * *

A delicious aroma tickled Maggie’s nose. She sniffed and rustled a little. Bacon. She definitely smelled bacon.

Something warm and wet slid over her cheek. The wet trail left behind immediately turned cold.

Maggie’s eyes flew open to find Buzz directly in her face. She groaned and reached out to rub his ears. He panted his hot, stinky dog breath in her face, happy to receive the attention.

Maggie sat up and looked around. She was in Wylder’s living room. She must have fallen asleep on his couch last night.

“Buzz, get in here,” Wylder hissed from the kitchen. “Let her sleep. I’ll give you bacon.”

Buzz immediately left Maggie’s side and rushed to the kitchen, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor.

Wylder’s back was to Maggie as he worked at the stove, tossing a frying pan above the burner and stirring the contents with a spatula. His disheveled hair looked as though he recently woke up and hadn’t combed it yet.

Wylder set the pan back on the heat, turned, and noticed that Maggie watched him from the couch. He smiled. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?”

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