Page 70 of Beware of Dog

A yellow cab idled at the curb, and Shep leaned against its rear door, hands in his pockets, hood pulled up over his hair. His expression was concerned, and only grew more so as she approached.

“Hey. Are you sure you’re—oh.”

She barreled straight into him without slowing, dropping the suitcase handles in favor of wrapping both arms tight around his waist. His hoodie was soft and clean against her face, and his skin beneath smelled freshly-showered. The gym, she remembered him saying. The visual that provided helped her shake off the worst of her nerves with a physical shudder.

He cupped the back of her head. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She squeezed him tight. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.”

She squeezed her eyes shut against a sudden sting of tears, and he held her, stroking her back, until she was ready to step away.

Nineteen

Shep exercised previously-unseen levels of restraint through the cab ride, and the lugging of her belongings. There was no discussion about which room she’d stow her things in: his, obviously. They made and ate dinner: a salad loaded with veggies, dressed in vinegar, with plain hamburger patties. “I gotta cut back on the carbs,” he said, and she teased him by poking at his nonexistent love handle. He opened up a beer, and poured her a tumbler of the wine he’d bought her yesterday, and they decompressed in front of sitcom reruns while they talked about inconsequential things: chiefly, which episode ofSeinfeldwas the objective “best.” (Cass loved the one with the fusilli Jerry, but Shep always cracked up over George shoving kids and old ladies out of the way during the apartment fire, so they were both clearly disturbed individuals.)

He went down on his knees in the shower and put his mouth on her, his strong hands at her hips all that kept her upright. She screamed when she came with his tongue up inside her, embarrassed afterward because she’d thought that sort of thing only happened in porn. Then he patiently talked her through taking his cock into her mouth for the first time, his little grunts and sighs and curses of pleasure so gratifying she touched herself while she finished him off with her hand.

He didn’t get serious until they were cuddled up in bed, naked and clean and shower-warm, the room dark around them save the orange slats of light through the blinds.

Shep slid his hand down from her waist to her ass and hauled her a little closer. She slipped her leg over his, enjoying the rasp of the hair on his thigh. “Okay,” he said, and shegroaned inwardly, because he had his Serious Protector Voice on. “What happened at school?”

“I went to class, I took notes, I—ow!” He’d pinched her bum, and she reached to rub the offended area.

“You walked outta that place looking like your dog died today,” he said. “And I know that wasn’t for no reason.”

Cass sighed, and pressed her face into the side of his chest, the clean-smelling skin just past his armpit hair. “I thought about asking you to punch girls,” she said.

“Ah.”

“Or punch them myself.”

“That’d probably be better.”

“But I don’t wanna get kicked out of school.”

The pillow rustled, and when she tilted her head back, she found that he’d turned his so he could look at her face. In the semi-dark, his eyes were black wells, his mouth invisible. The edge of an orange bar of city light struck the bump at the middle of his broken nose.

She reached up and skimmed her finger down its familiar, uneven slope. “How’d this happen?” She’d always wanted to know.

He huffed an amused sound, his breath warm against her fingers, but he didn’t try to stop her exploration. “The first time? Or the other times?”

“Ooh, all of the above.” She dug her chin into his pec, a captive audience.

“Thefirsttime was in Ranger school.” She could tell he rolled his eyes thanks to a flash of white in the dimness. “I, uh…” His voice went embarrassed. “Fell off that big wall you have to climb and landed on my face.”

“Ouch.” She laughed. “I’m laughing with you, not at you.”

“Yeah, yuck it up.” He caught her wandering fingers, kissed them, and then pressed them flat to his chest, over theslow, grounding thump of his heart through warm skin. “The second time was a bar fight, right after I got my discharge papers. I was…not in a good place.”

It was far too easy to imagine him younger, angrier, lost. She ached for that version of him. “I hear loads of people have trouble adjusting after service.”

“Hm. I met Maverick pretty soon after that. The third time was another bar fight, but this time I had backup.” His teeth flashed white as he grinned. “I lost track after that.”

“Poor lamb. You have head trauma.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, probably.” Then he sobered, his body stilling slowly like water settling in the wake of a passing boat. “Cass, do youlikeschool? I mean, I know you love art. But do you like going to school for it?”

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