Evan glances up at me. His hair is in his face, but I catch a flash of his watery, ocean eyes again. “You don’t have to say that. I mean, obviously I appreciate it. Again, I need to shut up. Thanks for talking to me. I should probably go to bed.”
“Did you get enough to eat?” I ask. “Because I brought the food home.”
“You did?”
I nod.
He hesitates a few seconds. We’re still holding hands. “I mean, I guess I am still hungry.”
“Can I reheat it for you?”
“You don’t have?—”
“Yes, I do.”
On a mission, I let go of his hands and head straight back to the kitchen, turning on the oven before I reach for the fridge handle.
I hear him sit down on the couch, and I let out a sigh of relief. “The food was actually really good.”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t stay long after you left, but long enough to order an entree and taste it. I think you’ll like it if you liked the shrimp.”
“Okay,” he says.
“Do you think Apollo’s going to come back out?” I ask.
“No. He’s probably already in bed. Why?”
“I just wondered.”
“Do you like Apollo?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, unboxing the leftovers.
“Okay. Good. He didn’t get that little dog pregnant. There’s no way.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so either.” The narrow hips thing is what convinced me. I can imagine a lot of sexual positions, but the one required for a hundred and seventy pound Great Dane to get a thirty pound French Bulldog pregnant isn’t one of them.
I add, “If you ever need me to do anything to help with him, I don’t mind.”
“You can do whatever you want with him,” Evan says. “But I don’t think he needs anything.”
“I don’t mind walking him when I get home.”
“Thanks.” He’s gotten quieter. I try to hurry in case he changes his mind about dinner, but I don’t want to microwave the food. It won’t be as good.
“Millie was over here again. She wanted to take pictures of him.”
“Are you fucking kidding?”
I decide not to tell him about the price tag on the upcoming surgery. I pull out a fun fact Millie once told me in one of her rambles. “I think pregnancy grosses her out. She compared it to having a parasite. She said she never wants kids. But also, why does she keep bringing up the dog’s nipples?”
Evan laughs.
I’m in way over my head here. I shift my focus to the food and try to keep the random questions I have for Evan that keep popping into my head from coming out of my mouth.
The more I try to push the thoughts back, though, the harder they fight for my attention. As I put a light pan sear on the shrimp, I’ve actively started picturing what Evan and Isaac do to each other in the office.
