Page 45 of The Stud

“And that means you’re wearingmynumber.”

“Point?”

“It means youpurchasedone ofmyjerseys at an auctionto wear.” Propping myself up onto my elbows is immediately stopped by the fur monster. “On. Purpose.”

Meaning she doesn’t actually despise me.

At least not as a player.

Arden – to no real surprise – avoids discussing her current attire by throwing a question back at me. “Why are you in my grass?”

“Iwason your porch.”

“Question remains.”

“You weren’t at the barn today-”

“I’m aware.”

“And I became concerned about your wellbeing when there wasn’t a single dick drawn onanyof my gear.”

She does her best not to grin.

“So, I asked around-”

“Who?”

“Everyone.”

“Yeah no,whonarced?”

“And when I discovered you were sick-”

“And where Ilive, like some sort of fucking creeper.”

“Like a fucking teammate!”

Bear growls harder in my face, large mouth displaying teeth to indicate I’ve become too vicious for his liking.

“Right,” I whisper to the drool demon. “My apologies, Cujo. I should not have raised my voice.”

“Bear,” she calls to the canine, collecting his attention. “Eat.”

“N-” can barely be heard over his loud slurping that begins right cross my open mouth.

Forfuckssake, her goddamn mutt is gonna make out with me before she does?!

Another lick is delivered up my nose.

Cheek.

Ear.

Getting molested by her hound ceaselessly continues until I’m left with no choice but to laugh at her antics.

Alright.

So, she wasn’texpectingme to show up.

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