Obviously
I smile and take a pull from my drink.
Lily:
I’m at the Broken Tavern rn
Harlow:
Oh shit we just walked past there. I’m out taking Daisy for her final walk of the night.
Lily:
Omg perfect. Come have a drink with me
Harlow’s typing.
Harlow:
Idk do you think they’re okay with dogs inside?
Lily:
Are you kidding? Manny keeps a jar of treats behind the counter
Harlow:
Lol okay. Give me five minutes.
I relax back in my seat with a cheeky smirk.
Who said sapphics can’t get lucky in a small town?
It may have been a line, but Harlow wasn’t kidding—her dog, Daisy, is even cuter in person. Fluffy golden fur, a tongue that flops adorably out of her mouth, she is a wrecking ball of rambunctious energy as she preens under my attention.
“Oh, my goodness,” I croon while taking Daisy’s face in my hands. “You are the cutest. Yes, you are.”
Daisy’s tail thumps loudly against the wood floor, and she spins around excitedly before launching her side into me. Since I had hopped off my bar stool and crouched down to greet her, her unexpected weight throws me off balance. I crash backward onto my ass, and Daisy takes it as an invitation, jumping into my lap and licking my face.
“Daisy!” Harlow drags her dog back by her floral collar and curses. “I’m so sorry. She’s normally much better behaved than this.”
She scolds her dog again, but I’m laughing. “Don’t apologize. She’s perfect.” I push myself to my feet and wipe my hands off on my jeans.
Harlow, likewise, looks better in person—and she looked pretty damn good in her photos. She’s dressed warm and cozy for a chilly evening walk in black sweatpants and a dark hoodie under a winter coat that is lightly dusted with snowflakes. She shrugs off her coat as I discreetly hold up a treat I snagged from Manny.
“May I?” I ask.
She chuckles. “You really weren’t joking about them keeping treats behind the counter?”
Daisy’s ears perk up at the magic word, and her tail wags excitedly.
“I’d never joke about this,” I say with utmost sincerity.
“Daisy, sit.” Harlow looks at me with a smile. “Go ahead.”
Daisy’s butt wiggles so hard she’s struggling to remain seated, so I don’t make her wait any longer. Then I get in another couple pets, further cooing over her, before Harlow has her lie down at our feet and we take our seats. AfterManny grabs our order, Harlow asks, “Do you have any dogs?”
“Ugh, I wish,” I say. “I love them so much, and I had a miniature dachshund growing up, but there’s no way I could have one with my schedule.”
