Page 81 of The Problem with Dating

I headed to the bathroom in my bedroom and shut the door. Hopefully, a shower would wake me up and make me less of a grouch for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER21

Yara

Iwas the official dog whisperer for Alex Ramírez.

You know, the person I claimed to hate a few days ago.

It was funny how life turned around so drastically in such a short period.

Alex did have a few good things going for him that I found hard to overlook. One, he was an amazing chef. The bone-shaped cookies he’d made were remarkable, too. Josh couldnevermake cookies that tasty. As far as apologies went, that was top-tier.

Two, he was easy on the eyes. I didn’t completely hate looking at him even though I tried to convince myself otherwise. Alex’s attractiveness ran rampant, especially when he wasn’t being rude.

And last, three, he had a dog. It was a scientific fact that men with dogs were better than those without. It added bonus points to their whole existence. Did Alex want a dog? No. Probably not. But he kept Feliz when he did have the option of surrendering him to a shelter. Instead, he came to me for help.

Deep down, there had to be a part that didn’t hate the idea of Feliz being around. I felt lonely when Cocoa was with Cole. I couldn’t imagine the loneliness Alex felt with always being on his own.

Besides, Feliz was a good boy. He’d simply had a rough few days.

I’d be pooping my pants, too, and barking up a storm nonstop if I was sent to live with a stranger. Oftentimes, humans forgot that we weren’t the only creatures who experienced fear and sadness.

At least we, humans, were able to communicate our feelings with words. All Feliz could do was whimper and cry, which he’d began to do once his aggression subsided and I placed him in the bathtub.

Ten minutes later, he was brand spanking new and ready for a solid blow-drying.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” I asked the small dog as I finished rinsing him off in the tub. It took a bit of work and my bite-free gloves to get Feliz into the bathtub, but once he realized I was there to help him and not hurt him, he somewhat surrendered to the idea of me bathing him.

That, or he was terrified into a state of calmness. I’d been there before—so scared that I allowed people to have free will over me and my heart.

Every time Feliz whimpered out of fear, my heart shattered a bit more for him. He was such a sweet boy who was misunderstood.

As I grabbed a towel to dry Feliz, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Yes?” I called out.

Alex cleared his throat. “Everything okay in there?”

The moment Feliz heard his voice, he began to growl. I wrapped him up in a towel and started drying him.

“Peachy,” I replied. “But if you can refrain from speaking, that would be great. It appears your voice irritates him.”

I heard Alex grumble some.

Feliz growled at that, too, and grumbled along with Alex.

I laughed.

It turned out those two had something in common—they were two grumpy old men.

“We’ll see you soon,” I told Alex. “Leave your phone number and key on the kitchen counter, and I’ll use it if anything goes wrong, but it shouldn’t. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“O—”

“Don’t talk!” I shouted.

More grumbles from outside the door followed by foot stomping and the front door slamming.

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