Page 15 of How to Deal

Great. Now I have to hate this song.

With an exaggerated flip of my hand, I turn it off and make the drive back to my apartment in complete silence, though my mind is far from silent. I’m replaying every detail of that dance and why it was important to stay far away from Tathan.

Once again, I walk to my apartment barefoot; the three-inch heels were a bad idea. When I open the door, Oliver is there waiting for his walk.

Reaching for his leash, he wiggles to the point his tail touches his ears. “Come on, boy.” He’s eager and jumping all over me, sharp claws scratching at my bare legs.

There’s one bad thing about having a puppy. Well, there are a few, but the one at the top of my list: they require maintenance and walking at all hours of the night. And for a girl like me—one scared of the dark—this is not easy. These are the times when I wish he was a cat so I could get him to use a litter box. Not knowing much of anything about raising a dog on my own, I actually tried to get him to use a litter box. It was a disaster. He ate the litter like it was dog food and then promptly threw it all back up and spent the next three hours in the vet ER as I thought I poisoned him.

Outside, he paces the same patch of lawn he usually pees on, as if he’s trying to find the only spot he hasn’t peed on yet this week. It’s then I’m looking around at my surroundings and wishing I would have brought something to defend myself with should I be attacked. It’s not like Oliver could protect me. He’s barely ten pounds and licks people to death.

Fear pricks my skin, as it usually does when I’m outside at night. Within a minute, I break out in a cold sweat. I don’t know what it is that freaks me out. Maybe too many horror movies? “Come on, Oliver! Will you just pee already?”

Oliver looks up at me, sad I yelled at him. Poor baby. He didn’t deserve that.

I kneel to his level. “Look, Mommy is really sorry, but youneedto pee, buddy. It’s late, and I’m barely wearing anything.”

Phoenix isn’t exactly the safest city, and when I’m out here this late at night, well, I get scared.

“Hey, baby!” A man whistles from behind. “Nice dog.”

Yeah right. Like he’s looking at my dog with this dress on.

Oliver growls as the man passes by, his fur all riled up and standing on end. He doesn’t like men. At all.

The man gets past us and whistles. “I wasn’t talking about the dog, honey.”

Yeah, you’re so obvious.

“Eat a dick, asshole.” The nerve of some people. Picking up Oliver, I rush to my apartment.

The entire way upstairs, Oliver barks at nothing, like he’s protecting me by making so much noise.

“You should have peed.” I set Oliver down once we get up the stairs and he wiggles like I’m rewarding him, because I spoke to him.

It’s amazing that no matter what I say, he wiggles.

At the end of the hall, Tathan’s unlocking his door. The sound of my wiggly, still barking dog, slides his attention my way.

Like a scene out ofDirty Dancing, he turns and looks over at me, leaning into his door frame holding his keys in the palm of his hand. His black shirt is unbuttoned a little more from what it was at the club, cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol in him and I must say, he has me staring at him once again.

They shouldn’t make them as pretty as him.

Tathan glances at Oliver and then slides his stare to mine again. “I didn’t get to thank you before you rushed out, but thanks for the dance.”

Smiling to myself, I don’t say anything to him as I unlock my own door, my hands shaking in the process, remembering in detail the way his breath felt against my skin.

That’s when I hear the faint sounds of water and look back.

I shit you not, Oliver is peeing on Tathan’s doormat, and then runs back to his mommy.

Should I reward him?

Tathan squints down at the doormat and then at me again, and says nothing.

I get my door open, Oliver trots in, completely satisfied with himself.

What the hell do I say? Should I apologize?

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