Page 15 of There Is Also a Dog
“We should probably get going, actually,” her confusing, thick-skulled, multiple-personality-having person mutters.
“Oh, yeah?”
“But we would like to invite you to our place for Christmas breakfast tomorrow morning. If you’re free.”
“Oh. Yeah?”
“Yeah. The Wi-Fi signal is just as strong there, in case you want it to be a working Christmas breakfast.” There’s that neutral expression again, but he is definitely making fun of me.
I roll my eyes. “Well, I do have to get some work done, actually.”
“So I’ve gathered.” He puts Agnes back down on the floor. “Hey. I don’t want to run off on you or anything—will you be okay on your own? I mean. Noton your own for the rest of your life, but for the rest of the night?”
Aww, crap. That was cute. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be okay.”
“It’s just that I like you and I don’t want to fuck this up by moving too fast.”
“Oh. Okay. Good. I like you too.”
“Good.” He gives my shoulder a little punch. “So we’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
“Okie dokie.”
He checks the firmware on his laptop before shutting it. “You still have the Wi-Fi password?”
“Yep. Still got it.”
“Cool beans.”
“Cool beans.”
He walks over to the front door, stopping before he gets there. Through the glass of the door, we can see a few flakes of snow falling beneath the porch light.
“Starting to snow,” I mutter.
After a beat, he says, “Well. Shit.” He looks down at Agnes, who’s looking back and forth from him to me. “We can’t drive in that, Agnes…”
I look out the window again to make sure we’re seeing the same thing out there. All I see are a few lazy snowflakes. “I mean, it’s not a blizzard or anything. I’m sure you can drive a mile in that.”
He locks eyes with me and says, “It’s a blizzard. We can’t drive in that.”
I can feel the intention of his statement between my legs.
Ohhhhh.
He finally removes his coat and hangs it on the coat rack by the door. He removes his glasses, folds and carefully places them on the coffee table in the sitting area by the entrance, and pushes up his sleeves. “So is there a deadline for you to complete that sex position to-do list, or is it more of a lifetime bucket list?”
I cover my face. “Goddammit.”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m really asking.”
“It’s an incomplete bucket list,” I mumble into my hands.
“Good to know,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling. He comes over to me, removes my hands from my face, cups my face with his own hands, and gives me a soft, slow, reassuring kiss on the lips. “Because I’d prefer to do most of them once we’ve gotten to know each other better.” He kisses me again, this time deeply, with the clear objective of taking my breath away. Again. When he finally pulls away, his voice is low but commanding. “By the time I’m able to safely drive away from here, you’ll be crossing off three to five of those positions. I have already decided on two of them. The rest are up to you. Choose wisely.”
The next sound out of my mouth is something like, “Unh!” but it is without a doubt an affirmation.
He leans down and whispers in my ear, feigning an Italian accent, “Are you lost, baby girl?”
