Page 6 of Hound Dog
Thiswasa fucking horror movie. My life was a horror movie. I mean, whosaidstuff like that?
Me, the virgin idiot, that’s who. My face got so hot that I had to stop myself from fanning my undoubtedly bright red cheeks.
He tilted his head, his smile staying firmly in place. To his credit, it didn’t seem like his interest in me lessenedorincreased with that fact bomb I had just exploded in his face.
Once more, he lifted his hand, palm outstretched towards me for the taking. “Well, then you’re safe either way. Serial killer or not. And I promise you’ll leave here with your virtue intact.” After a pause, and with a twitch of his fingers, he added, “What do you say?”
On one shoulder, I could picture my mother, firing off warning bells in my ear. And on the other, Aunt Meryl urged me to be adventurous. Brave.
Finally, with a deep breath, I slid my hand into his.
What the hell?
I couldn’t keep living my life in the same sheltered bubble I had been for eighteen years. My mom lived that way and look where it got her. Living carefully couldn’t protect her any more than the next person.
Anger swelled in my chest. Anger at Mom. Anger at cancer. Anger that she lived her life walking on eggshells only to have it stolen at such a young age. She never got to travel to Paris like she’d always dreamed of. She never got to swim with the dolphins in Mexico. She never got to sing on a stage in front of an audience of hundreds.
And then, immediately following the anger, guilt surged, drowning the ire and resentment.
I looked down at Finn’s palm, warm and large—so large—wrapped around mine. Electricity skittered up my arm from where our skin connected, and I shivered despite the warmth of the sun beating down on my shoulders as he helped me down from the passenger seat.
He led me toward a gated side entrance, and pushed a half-broken, rickety iron gate aside. He held it up so that I could duck through the weeds and brush into the abandoned courtyard. Then, he took my hand and gently pulled me behind him toward a window that was propped open with a loose brick.
Barely breaking a sweat, he opened the window the rest of the way and pulled a dirty crate over to the window for me to step up on. “Here you go,” he said. “I’ll balance it just to make sure you’re okay.”
I gulped, looking at the dirty open window and the overgrown weeds that came up to my knees. I’d never broken in anywhere before. I was nervous—but with Finn here beside me, I was unexpectedly excited by the prospect.
Breaking into abandoned buildings with hot guys was whatbadgirls did. The girls with tattoos and pink hair who wore thongs.
I had no tattoos. Non-chemically treated hair. And was currently wearing cotton panties with little surfboards on them.
I was a good girl.
Until today.
And holy God, I kind of liked it.
I hoisted myself up onto the crate and threw my leg over the side of the windowsill, climbing in. Within moments, Finn was also through the window and inside the building.
His smile widened like he knew I was a good girl. Not that it was any secret. I’m pretty sure he assumed that the virgin girl wore cotton panties.
But still. That smile did things to my insides. Like my organs were growing three sizes too big and my skin was shrink-wrapping around them. Right now, I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to show him that I could be a bad girl, too.
Silently, I followed him up a ton of stairs… I lost count after six flights… until he opened a door at the very top and propped it open with a cinderblock.
Light flooded in, illuminating the dark stairwell and I stepped out onto a rooftop.
“Wow,” I whispered, making my way to a walled edge. The building was safe, even on the roof, with the wall coming up to the base of my ribs.
The view looked out over the town center and just beyond to the lake. The apricot and coral streaked sky reflected off the water, rippling a kaleidoscope of warm colors across the town.
It was utterly breathtaking.
Finn set the large bag he’d been carrying on the ground and knelt next to it, pulling out an oversized blanket. With a dramatic whip of his arms, he spread it out on the roof, giving me a lazy smile.
I stood there, no longer staring at the view of the lake, but staring at the outspread blanket as he continued to pull various things out of his bag. Strawberries. Cheese cubes. Some deli meat. A couple of seltzer waters.
I gulped, my throat tightening as he plopped down on the blanket and gestured for me to join him. “I already promised to uphold your virtue.” He cracked the tab of one of the seltzers, the fizz of carbonated water hissing loudly in the quiet of dusk.
