Page 88 of Swept for Forever
“Yoga,” I muttered. “We’re doing yoga.”
She responded by shoving a slobbery chew toy into my hand.
“Lulu,” I warned.
She thumped her tail, her eyes bright, a picture of pure canine joy.
I sighed, letting my head fall back. “We’re failures.”
Lulu barked once, then promptly stole my sock.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ve got it!” Mom called, and I heard her light jog across the entryway.
A moment later, her voice floated back, bright and welcoming.
Then came a reply, low and unclear. But definitely male.
Lulu sprang into high alert, nearly skidding off the rug. She caught herself just in time, my sock still clamped in her teeth, her tail whipping in manic loops.
Normally, she got like this when she needed to be let out, but something about her pacing felt different. It was less I-need-to-pee and more hey-you’ll-want-to-see-this.
Downstairs, Mom was chatting, laughing, and…flirting?
God, had she started dating again? Was I about to walk down there and find some middle-aged man standing in our living room? Or worse, was he so old that he couldn’t stay awake for dinner, so he’d shown up for brunch instead?
“Ugh. Gross.”
Lulu was pawing at my door, all but demanding a background check on the guest.
“Nope, I haven’t forgotten, Lu,” I said. She had a habit of overreacting with strangers, especially men.
But Lulu’s stance wasn’t wary. She was amped, sure, but not in a defensive way. She’d only ever wagged like that for?—
“Autumn, honey, someone’s here to see you,” Mom called up.
That man’s voice.
The deep timbre of it.
Oh.Oh no.
Panic shot through me.
I scrambled to my feet, but Lulu thought it was a game and lunged at me, her tail whipping in excitement.
“Not now!” I hissed, dodging as she tried to nip at my other sock.
I had no time for this, no time for Dom, and no time for the way my pulse kicked at the sound of his voice.
There was only time to escape.
I yanked my window open and swung my leg over the sill.
The roof was familiar territory. I had used it as an escape route in high school whenever I wanted to sneak out past curfew. Now, at twenty-one, I couldn’t believe I was doing it again, but this time, instead of escaping a grounding, I was running from the man who had turned my world upside down.
My foot found its mark on the sloped tiles. I balanced and crouched low, moving with ease. The drop to the ground wasn’t far. I’d done this dozens of times. With a controlled breath, I pushed off, landing in a crouch on the grass.
