Page 76 of Puppy Love

Adrian looks stunning. Of course, they always do.

With their glowing skin and shiny black curls, Adrian couldn’t look bad even if they tried. But they look especially dapper tonight, in a dark blue tux and masculine bun. I lean forward to tighten their patterned tie.

“You,” I say, my eyes meeting theirs. Adrian has brown eyes in the way I wish I did. “Are going to be great.”

Adrian taps their feet side to side like a penguin.

They aren’t usually nervous about these things. They aren’t usually nervous at all, unless it’s about me. But tonight is huge. Anassia Walker, the owner of the biggest art gallery in the Pacific Northwest, will be there, looking to add to the Pacific Mountain Gallery of Fine Arts.

These opportunities don’t come by frequently to Adrian, not unless they travel to Seattle. And the past few years, they’ve been saving that money for Rise. So this, well, this could change everything for them.

“I know,” they say, exhaling a stream of air through their pursed lips. “It’s going to be great. I am great.”

“You sure are,” Hayden says, pressing a quick kiss to their temple. He’s wearing a gray suit, the handkerchief in his pocket almost the same captivating color as his eyes. Major boasts a matching gray harness, all the patches accented with the same blue. Hayden Ayers is a man of style. Avery nods in agreement, his hands fidgeting in the pockets of his own boxy tux. I stick my thumb in my mouth to wet it and scrub at the stain on my infamous emerald dress, knowing it isn’t going to come out.

I got that stain on my way home from a date with Cody. Luigi had broken down, of course, and I was messing with the engine, at least attempting to do something, while Cody pouted in the passenger seat, muttering about what a piece of shit my car was. He had no car of his own, which was another topic in itself. I sat back down, wiping my greased hands on my dress as I asked him to not say that. It was thrifted but new to me. It was my favorite dress then and still is. I refuse to let Cody ruin that.

“I can’t wait to finally see it,” Hayden says excitedly, bouncing on the tips of his toes. I nod, looking around at all the easels spread throughout the gallery. A large white sheet covers Adrian’s canvas.

“Yeah, Ry! I’ve been dying to know what it is.”

Adrian’s been working on this piece for months now, but they refuse to let any of us see it. Avery wiggles his brows, letting a sly smile creep across his face.

“I know what it is,” he taunts. Adrian smacks him lightly with the back of their hand, and Hayden and I shoot him a jealous glare.

“What?!”

Adrian smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry,” they say, now taking their turn to shoot Avery a glare. He shrugs, like he has no idea what he did wrong. “He saw it when I was loading it into the car.”

I wrinkle my nose, staring at Avery. But out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of something.

17No—sorry. Not something. Someone. A group, actually, of Furry Friends employees. Brooke looks beautiful, in a light blue, cowl-necked dress. Martha boasts a red skirt, a white button-up tucked inside. Malcolm must have missed the memo, as he trudges next to them in ripped jeans and a tattered “I Heart MILFS” T-shirt, which entices a chuckle out of me.

And at the center of the group, in a pair of black high-waisted slacks and a matching, asymmetrical cropped blazer, is Violet. The top is just long enough to cover the strip of skin on her stomach, but it’s classy, and chic. If she were to lift her arms, that skin would peek through. Her piercings are still there, shimmering in the overhead lights, but looking at her now, you would never guess she was covered in tattoos. For a moment, I forget there is anyone else in the room.

No. I forget there is anyone else on the planet.

A sharp elbow pokes my ribs, and my head snaps up, shooting its owner a scowl. But it’s Hayden, his brows raised slightly in a cautionary glance. My cheeks flush, knowing exactly what he’s saying without saying it: I am standing here, jaw-dropped, eyes fixated on Violet Wolfe.

“Thanks,” I mutter, and Hayden gives my arm a brief squeeze.

“You made it!” Adrian squeals, running toward the group with their arms stretched wide. They practically throw themselves into everyone, and the team all wraps together in a big group huddle. Violet’s eyes flick up to me, and she shoots me a sparkling grin.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“One Vodka Cranberry,” I say to the bartender. She nods, reaching for the unopened bottle of Grey Goose. After filling a short plastic cup with ice, she pours in the thick clear liquid, mixes in a dark red juice, and garnishes it with a lemon wedge, which hangs off the rim of the cup. She sets the drink in front of me.

“Eleven dollars please.”

I nod, reaching down into my purse to retrieve my wallet.

“I’ve got it,” a voice behind me says, and I don’t have to turn around to recognize the angelic rasp. My cheeks flush, and I wait a moment for it to go away before looking up at Violet.

“I can buy my own drink, boss,” I say, reaching back into my bag. Violet slaps her card against the bar, nodding to the bartender.

“And one Dirty Shirley please,” she asks sweetly. The bartender takes her card and swipes it on the machine before making her drink. I look at Violet, unimpressed.

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