Page 50 of Puppy Love

There’s no point in gloating, at least not right now.

Cam smiles at me, the dimple in her cheek just briefly existing, then vanishing again. She stands. She crouches. She rolls.

The ball spins down the alley, a tiny yellow tornado flying toward the remaining pins. It crashes into them, the front ones tipping, then toppling over into the ones behind. The ball rolls into the pit in the back, and Cam turns around. She’s not smiling, but she’s not pouting either.

Really, she just looks relieved it’s over.

“Hey, that’s not bad,” I say, feeling like, for some reason, I need to make her feel better. I have no idea why. Just minutes ago, I wanted to relentlessly rub her face in my victory. But now, I don’t care about that anymore. “Nine points behind is nothing.”

Avery chuckles, shaking his head.

“Nine points behind you.” Hayden shoots him a glare, so I don’t have to. “But she’s got time.”

My brows drop over my eyes as I look at him in confusion.

“Game’s over, dude. You won.”

Avery shakes his head, pointing to the screen hanging above us.

“I won,” he agrees. “But the game isn’t over. She got a spare.”

Cam’s head shoots up, looking at Avery, and then at the screen with just as much confusion as I did.

“Huh?”

“She got a spare,” he explains. “In the last round, if you get a strike, or a spare, you get to go a third time.”

Fuck.

I forgot about that. Suddenly, all the guilt and mature feelings I had about the situation crumble to the ground. Cam has another turn. Her face lights up, and she holds up a finger before running over to the next lane. She returns with Adrian, their hands woven tightly together.

“Moral support?” I ask. Cam nods.

“Adrian’s my good luck charm.”

Adrian winks at me, and Hayden and Avery nod in agreement. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m completely fucked?

Adrian hands her a ball, and Cam stands in front of the lane, her eyes closed tight. Her chest rises and falls slowly, and Adrian squeezes her arm. Then, they take a step back.

We all watch as Cam rolls a perfect, pin-shattering strike.

seventeen

Clipper Confessions

Cam

Coordination isn’t really my strong suit. I’m the type of person who sucks at pretty much anything athletic. Even Wii Sports is a challenge for me. Hayden’s seven-year-old sister places better than I do.

So how I managed to beat Violet in bowling had to be entirely luck. Only, my luck is typically terrible too, so maybe it was more so pure motivation.

Honestly, I didn’t give a single fuck about picking out her tattoo. I just chose that in an attempt to take the idea of a bet entirely off the table. But Violet’s promise to fuck me until I have to call into work? Now that’s a prize I can get behind.

Still, I did win the tattoo decision, so I may as well take advantage of it. I’ve been thinking about it the past few days, trying to figure out what I can choose that would fit in with the rest of her sleeve.

I think I found just the thing.

“Good boy Major,” I say, praising him for simply standing still on the table. Honestly, that’s an accomplishment for a nine-month-old puppy. The fact that he’s a service dog in training might have something to do with his perfect behavior, but I attribute it to my patient and loving demeanor instead. The silver teethed shears glide over his perfectly straightened white coat, smoothing out any imperfections in the cut.

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