Page 30 of Slots & Sticks
“Sounds like a real catch.” Camden takes the exit that will get us turned back the right way. The GPS has decided to save us half an hour by sending us down some windy-ass back road far from the highway to avoid the traffic. I’m glad I won’t have to face the aftermath of a wreck.
“Nobody wants him, and his euth date is coming up.”
The Humane Society closes at seven, and they said they’d hold Krusty until then. If traffic or my nerves screw this up, I’ll never forgive myself.
His brow furrows. “Youth date?”
“Euthanasia.”
“Oh.” Camden’s eyes pop wide. “Poor guy. I take it we’re on a rescue mission, then?” Camden reaches over to place a hand on my knee. His eyes never leave the road. “Hey. If it’s getting late,we can always call the shelter and let them know we’ll be there in the morning. They’re not going to euthanize him if they know he’s got someone on the way.”
“Right.” My throat constricts. I know he’s right, but what if there’s a mix-up? What if the right person doesn’t get the memo? What if we get there, and he’s already gone?
“Have you told your dad yet?”
I shake my head. “It’s a surprise.”
“Does that mean you’re free to pick a name?” His hand rests on my knee, and I can feel his warmth through the material of my capris. My body reacts in unexpected ways. I think again of George’s tasteless joke, even as I imagine Camden sliding his hand higher, tracing the inside of my thigh—
“Um. Yeah, I guess so.” I fidget in my seat. Camden takes this as a hint to remove his hand, which is the opposite of everything I’m unexpectedly craving. He felt so good against me last night, so solid and reassuring. What would he be like in bed? I haven’t seen any other cars since we left the highway. I could ask him to pull over and kiss me. Maybemorethan kiss me.
Stop being needy and horny. Focus on the dog, you weirdo.
“It’s going to be hard to top Nudacris.” Camden is clueless about my current inner crisis. “The obvious sequel is Snoop Dogg, but that’stooobvious. How about… Whiz Dandrifa?”
“No.” I throw my head back and cackle.
“Flake Shelton?”
Clearly, this is going to be a thing. I rack my brain for a suitable suggestion. Distractions have always helped with my nerves, and I appreciate this one more than I can say. “Lynyrd Skyn… dammit, I can’t make the joke work.”
“Hey, you’re trying. How about Ringo Starrknaked?”
I stick out my tongue in a Mr. Yuck expression. “Ugh, that’s awful. Nobody will call him that.”
“It could be Starky for short.”
I tap my finger against my lips. “Hmm, that’s better, but it’s still a mouthful.”
“Wait.” Camden slaps the wheel. “I’ve got it. It’s not on-theme, but how about… Skinbad the Sailor?”
I howl with laughter. “Dad willlovethat. This poor dog. We haven’t even met him, and we’re already making fun of him.”
With mock solemnity, Camden says, “That’s the price of love.”
I get my giggles under control. There’s no way we’re calling this dog anything other than Skinbad. We’ll just have to love him enough to make up for it.
“Speaking of people who joke about strangers… What’s up with George?”
Camden sighs. He drums his fingers on the wheel and averts his face ever so slightly. “He didn’t mean anything by it. I just talk about you a lot.”
“You talk about me with a friend I didn’t know you have?” I press.
“Yeah.” Camden narrows his eyes and stretches his neck forward to get a better look at the road. “Hey, what’s that?”
“Nice job trying to change the subject, but I’m not falling for it.”
“No, for real.” Camden slows down. “There was something shiny. I only saw it for a second, but—fuck!”
