“Sounds like a fucking creep.”
“Yeah, it took me a while to realize that…unfortunately.” Her nose scrunches up. “I went back to him three times.”
“Geez, Leah. Why?”
“I had no self-esteem, and he gaslit me into thinking it was my fault for working too much. I started to believe him, so I quit one of my jobs and ended up putting myself into debt. I thought things were okay, but he cheated again. Finally, I left. I went on to date a few more deadbeats. During that, I got a job working at a tattoo studio in Portland. That's where I met Amy.”
Without warning, she jumps off the couch. “Hold that thought.”
Slapping her hand over her mouth, she runs to the bathroom.
I waste no time in following her. If I’m with her when she’s tossing her cookies, best believe I’ll be holding back her hair and getting her anything she needs. I think that’s the absolute least I can do.
When she finishes, she stands up and goes to the sink to splash some water on her face.
“Ugh, I’m getting so tired of doing that,” she groans.
“I know. Hopefully, it won’t last too much longer.”
Taking her hand in mine, I lead her back to the couch. Once she’s seated, I get some of the food off the table to help her queasiness.
When I join her, she asks, “Where was I?”
“You started working at the tattoo shop.”
“Oh, right. I got a job there and learned on my feet. The owner took a liking to me and took me under his wing. He was at least ten years older than me, but it didn’t take long for us to fall into bed together. I was looking for a place to live, so he let me move in. It turned into basically the same situation as before. Boy is nice to girl. Girl falls hard. Boy shows his true colors as a narcissist. Girl finally gets tired of it and gets ready to move out. Boy sets most of her stuff on fire.”
“What the fuck? Good lord.”
She smiles and nods. “Told you it was bad.”
“I didn’t think it would be that bad.”
“Yeah. I apparently attract a very specific breed of man—douche bags. Well, aside from you.”
“Glad to not be lumped in with the jerks.”
Her eyes fall from mine as she runs her finger through her hair. “No, you’re nothing like any of them. You’re pretty wonderful actually.”
“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?”
“Definitely not a bad thing. I just feel like you’re way too good to be hanging out with the likes of me. I’ll probably destroy your delicate nature.”
I smile. “I think I can handle myself.”
She points her finger at me. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I’m a little crazy.”
Wiggling my eyebrows, I respond, “I like them a little crazy.”
“Buckle up, Snoopy. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Okay, I have to ask—what’s with all the dog names?”
“Well, see…you’re kind of like a sexy golden retriever.” She says it like I’m supposed to know what it means.
“I’m going to need a little more explanation,” I tell her.
“Golden retrievers are just good. Have you ever met a golden retriever you didn’t like?”