CHAPTER 44
BIX
As I walk up to my room, I hear something behind me in the hallway. Thinking it might be Rafe. I smile and turn back.
But it’s Toto.
“Hey, boy.” I kneel and motion for him to come to me.
Toto bounds up and licks my hand. I ruffle the fur around his velvet-soft ears.
“Want to come in for a snack?”
He yips.
“Good!” I pat his back. “I bought a treat especially for you at the bakery. But I wasn’t going to give it to you until I check out tomorrow.”
I open the door to my room and wave him inside. On the table still sits the plush turtle. “You remember Oscar from the trail,” I say, putting the toy next to him. “Say hello.”
Toto yips again.
“Here you go.” I take the doggy cookie from the refrigerator and set it before him. “Maybe you’d like to hear a song Slayer wrote about our adventure the other day?”
Toto’s too busy devouring the cookie to remark, but I sing itanyway, remembering that moment under the sun when it was just Slayer and me and nature all around us.
When Toto finishes, he looks up, brown eyes shining.
“We had fun together earlier on the trail, didn’t we, Toto?” I say, stroking his fur.
He yips, as if he knows exactly what I’m saying.
Falling quiet, I wonder if it’s rational to have a conversation with a canine. I had expected to be conversing with Slayer.
I look over at his closed bedroom door. Will he even come back?
Maybe he’s with Valentina. The thought turns my stomach. But then I get a grip on myself.
Maybe he decided to prepare early for tomorrow, perform a sound check or whatever it is rock stars do. I need to focus on something else. Worry about the job I’m here for.
“Do you want to stay here or go?” I ask Toto, opening the door slightly.
He yips again and curls himself into a ball.
“Good! Sleepover party it is.”
I head to my bedroom and shimmy out of my dress.
As I take off my makeup, I think about the incredible day I had with Slayer. We went from what people might deem enemies to lovers...then back to enemies by the end of the evening.
Butenemiesisn’t really the word for us.
Rafe is right. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.
Men are jealous, I remind myself.
Lola told Hilary and me countless stories of men who fought each other to win her affection. When we were young, Hilary and I thought her stories were romantic.
Now, with my heart so heavy, I find jealousy anything but romantic.
