Page 86 of The Problem with Dating

“What’s so good about it?” I muttered.

“He kept you up all night, huh?” she asked, entering my apartment.

“All. Night.”

“Well, how about this. How about you go sleep for a few hours, and I’ll take Feliz into work. While I’m gone, I’ll text you a list of things to get for your place. You should get a gate for the guest bedroom. Then Feliz can see you and get used to you instead of keeping this door shut.”

“So he can bark at me nonstop?” I grumbled.

“I know it seems nonstop, but this will be a far-off memory at some point. You two will be best friends.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I replied as I yawned. “But I will take you up on a nap.” I felt as if I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time. I began to drag my feet toward my bedroom, and Yara called out to me.

“Wait!”

I turned to face her, and Feliz was snuggled up in her arms, trying so hard to lick her face. What kind of magic spell did she put on that dog? Then again, I couldn’t blame Feliz. I had a few moments over the past few days when I, too, thought of licking Yara Kingsley.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Come pet his head.”

“What? No.”

She nodded as she walked over toward me. The closer they drew, the more tense Feliz became as he released a low growl. Yara was still convinced, though. “Pet. His. Head, Alex.”

“He’s going to bite me.”

“He’s not going to bite you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re going to reach into the back pocket of my jeans and pull out the treat I stored for you to give to him.”

I arched an eyebrow. “He might still bite me.”

“No,” she disagreed, “he won’t.”

Feliz’s fangs told a different story. “But—”

“Alejandro,” she sang, and it felt good hearing my full name roll off her tongue. “Reach into my back pocket and get the treat out.”

I grumbled for a second yet did as she said. As my hand reached into the back pocket of her tight jeans, I had to remind myself not to linger too long to try to get a feel of her ass, which I’d found myself watching as she exited rooms lately.

I picked up the treat, then turned back to her. Feliz was already barking like mad, looking as if he wanted to drain every drop of blood from my system.

“Good boy,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or the dog, but oddly enough, it turned me on.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Hold the treat in front of his nose.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You mean in front of his teeth he’s baring at me?”

“Yup”—she nodded—“right there. Let him smell it.”

“But—”

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

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