Page 26 of Puppy Love

“Can I ask you something?” she asks, her voice soft. “I promise it’ll be the last time I bring it up.”

I feel my stomach twist, forming a pretzel inside of my body. Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to have to answer it. But the promise of her never bringing it up again afterwards is tempting, and I have a feeling that, if I don’t say yes, this question will come knocking at my door in a few weeks.

I may as well get it over with.

I nod, and Violet looks over at me before redirecting her focus onto the road.

“Why did you bail that night? Did I—” She scratches her neck. “Did I do something?”

Oh.

The question hits me like a bus. I was expecting her to ask why. I was bracing myself for it, actually. On the road to creating an actual, valid excuse. But I wasn’t expecting her to think she played any role in it. If anything, I was simply expecting her to make fun of me.

I swallow, hard. My throat is so dry that I’m tempted to stick my tongue out the window to catch droplets of rain in my mouth. Violet pulls into the apartment complex, sliding the shifter into “Park.” Both of our bodies rock forward, then backwards gently from the change of gear. She turns to me, tucking a strand of dark, wet hair behind her ear. My lower lip is raw between my teeth, and I take another shuddering breath.

“I—” My voice is squeaky and high, and I clear my throat, embarrassed. “No. Not at all,” I say earnestly. “You—” I let my eyes travel up slowly, until they finally land onto hers. Those gentle, yet powerful, kinetic hazel eyes. “I had a good time with you, a great time actually. And you didn’t do anything wrong. It was the opposite, actually. I—” My words get caught in my throat again, not ready to be spoken aloud. I try again, but still nothing. I’m an honest person. I think the truth is more important than just about anything. But for some reason, it simply won’t come out. “I got startled by the woman knocking on the door. It just, it kind of freaked me out, and I panicked. I’m sorry.”

It’s not the most flattering excuse, but it’s half-true, and still better than “I’ve never had sex with a woman and was scared I’d get attached to you.” I wait to see that taunting smirk return to her face. Even just a flicker of amusement dancing across those eyes. But it never comes. Violet just smiles at me through those thick pierced lips, and I swear my heart is vibrating in my chest.

“You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly, her fingers gently brushing across the top of my hand. My breath hitches, and I feel as if I’m frozen in time. My eyes flick up, looking back into hers. We aren’t saying anything, but somehow, I can’t hear the rain anymore. I can’t hear anything but the quiet breaths coming from Violet’s lips.

Those soft, thick, round lips that I hate to admit make me ache when I think about them. When I think about that night and how it could have ended. I know it’s outside The Realm of Likely Possibilities. Hell, it should be outside of the realm of desired possibilities. But no matter how hard I try, staring down at them now, remembering the sharp pressure of her lip piercing against my jaw, I can’t force myself to wish it never happened. In fact, I wish it was happening again right now.

“I should go,” I say softly, my gaze darting from her lips to the door handle suddenly gripped in my hand. “Thank you, for the ride.”

This is the opposite of what I want to say. The opposite of what I want to do. A massive contradiction to the words dancing on the tip of my tongue, the gravitational pull I feel from her body to mine. But that’s what I do best, I think: turn into a helpless deer that sprints away at the slightest scent of danger.

Violet nods, pulling her hand away.

“Okay well, let me know if you need a ride tomorrow?”

I hop out of the car, the thundering sound of pattering rain flooding back into my senses. Wet droplets run down my face, my damp hair sticking to my cheeks in a way that makes me itch.

“Sure,” I say. “Okay.”

Dawson jumps through the passenger door behind me, and I close it, turning away without another look back.

ten

Novemberween

Violet

Iopen the last suite in the aisle and poke my head inside to see Murphy, a dark brown Newfoundland, fast asleep on his sofa-shaped bed. Then, I step back and twist the latch to secure it shut.

Furry Friends feels kind of eerie after closing, but not in a haunted type of way. It’s just so distinctly opposite to how it feels during the day, or even in the mornings as we prepare to open. Usually, it’s loud and lively. Barks echo throughout the building in a way that can become overwhelming at times, dogs voicing their excitement to eat breakfast and be let out of their rooms. Even when they’re all in their playgroups, there’s light and sound and motion. But in the evening, when everyone has eaten and they’re all exhausted from the hours of stimulation, all you can hear are slight snores from some of the brachycephalic pups.

I stay after hours rather frequently these days. It’s a lot easier to get some of the smaller, more tedious things done then, like cleaning the air vents, scrubbing out the shop vac, or restocking supplies, which is what I’m doing now. Another upside is that I don’t have to be stuck in my house alone. I’d rather be alone here than be reminded of why I’m alone there. With either option, after six-thirty PM, I will always be given the silence needed to let my brain go haywire. I really try not to give in to that silence.

Usually, I’m good at it. I just keep myself busy, keep talking to people and letting my brain fill with useless information so it runs out of space to think about anything important. It’s how I can stay calm, no matter how bad the situation is. I just distract myself, or I let others distract me for me. Even when I found out Mallory had been cheating, I didn’t yell or scream or cry. I simply turned on the TV and asked her to leave. After a little pushback, she did.

But Cameron Miller doesn’t believe in “a little” pushback. In fact, the only “little” thing about her is her height.

She has a big attitude, a bigger ass, and a giant map to my fucking buttons. She has to, because she managed to press just the right ones to get me to open my mouth and say something I shouldn’t have.

And now, she won’t even look at me.

That was normal, in the beginning. It was easier to pretend nothing happened if we silently agreed to avoid one another. But I couldn’t avoid her forever, I knew that. So, I started coming around, and Cam started letting me.

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