Page 16 of While We Waited

He barks again.

“I couldn’t resist him.” I sigh. “I’ve wanted him since tenth grade. Although in tenth grade I didn’t know much about sex. I would have kissed him, though. Hudson’s a good kisser.”

This time Sammy’s bark resembles a question.

“I don’t know how many girls he’s kissed. He was a football player. He’s probably kissed thousands of girls.”

Which is kind of ick now I’m thinking about it. But in the three years since Hudson’s been home, I haven’t seen him with a woman on his arm once. Of course, he owns a resort. He could have the pick of the female guests and no one would be the wiser.

“Nope. I don’t want to think about it.” I stand. “Time to get off the road, Sammy boy.”

He barks.

“I don’t care if the road is warm and the sun is shining on you and there’s no one around, it’s a road.”

He covers his eyes with his fins.

“You can’t ignore me.” I wag a finger at him. “I’m not above calling the dogcatchers on you.”

He barks again but this time he scoots off of the road. Not far. He’s on the shoulder but at least he’s not in the middle of the road.

I wave at him. “See ya, later, Sammy.”

I switch on my car and drive away slowly. I wouldn’t put it past Sammy to hobble back on the road to tease me. The seal is a menace, but he’s cute.

My phone rings. “Hello.”

“Are you in your car?” Sophia asks.

“Yes.”

“But you can walk to the brewery from your house.”

“I’m well aware of how far my house is from the brewery.”

“And you’re late to work.”

“I’ll be there soon,” I say instead of confirming how late I am.

“Holy mermaids!” She squeals in excitement. “Did you go home with a man last night?”

“No.” It’s not a complete lie. I didn’t go home with Hudson. Being locked together in a chalet is not the same thing.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I think I’d know if I went home with a man last night.” Still not a lie.

She sighs. “Why didn’t you go home with a man last night?”

“You’ve got sex on the brain ever since you and Flynn got together.”

“It’s awesome.” She clears her throat. “But seriously, why are you driving if you didn’t get some last night?”

“There are other reasons to be in my car. I could be coming home from the doctor or the pharmacy.”

“Shoot the mermaids. Are you sick? What’s wrong? Do I need to bring you some of my mom’s chicken noodle soup? She can have a batch ready by lunch.”

My stomach gurgles as guilt slams into me. My friends are well aware of my abnormal anxiety about my health, but they don’t ever call me out for it. They accept me for who I am.

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