Page 50 of Plight
“What?”
“Like this, watch.”
Securing him with one arm, I placed my thumb on his wrinkly face and massaged in slow, soothing circles, hoping like fuck his eyes would stop bulging out of his head even more so that what they already did.
“He looks scared.”
“Since when do pugs not look scared?”
“Don’t pick on him. He’s terrified.”
“No, he’s not. Look …”
Danielle tilted her head to the side then smiled. “Wow! Is he going to sleep? How’d you do that?”
“I have magic hands.”
I didn’t, or maybe I did. Truth be told, I was more surprised than Danielle that my doggy facial massage had actually worked. I’d come across a video about it on YouTube once so figured I’d give it a try. At the very least, I’d hoped Pugly wouldn’t bite me.
“No, seriously. How’d you do that?”
“I told you. I have magic hands.”
“Elliot,” she warned.
“Don’t believe me? I’ll put you to sleep later.”
My response sounded far dirtier than I’d planned, but when I noticed her shuffle from one foot to the other, the dirty connotation wasn’t such a bad thing.
“We’re not gonna fuck,” she said, her tone matter of fact.
“I never said anything about fucking.”
“No, but you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
The hand dryer switched off, so we both pushed the button at the same time.
“You insinuated your ‘magic’ hands would be putting me to sleep.”
“Exactly.”
“Ha!”
My God she was cute, especially when she was tipsy.
Staring at each other for what felt like eternity, I was happy for the moment to become a time loop when both our faces broke into huge smiles.
“I’ve missed you lots, Lots,” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper.
I stopped massaging Pugly’s cheek and slid my hand into hers. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“Good. I’m still not fucking you, though.”
Before I could argue our case, my magic wore off and Pugly sprung back to life and out of my arms. “Jesus! Are you sure he is not part grasshopper?”
It made sense; the ugly fuck didn’t have much of a tail.
