“Yeah,” she agreed. “You want company?”
I shook my head, changing my mind again about the New Year’s party. I could use some alone time to get my shit together.
“I need a stretch and a shower and to get some errands run. But maybe a cocktail later wouldn’t go amiss.”
“You got it.”
She headed to the door.
I called, “You can return my pooch at any time, though.”
She stopped at the door and darted a smile my way. “Oh yeah. Right.”
“Stop trying to steal my dog.”
“Cap’s immensely fuckable when he’s cuddling with a French bulldog.”
Who was she kidding?
The way they went at each other (not to mention, I had eyes), Cap was immensely fuckable all the time.
“Right then, get your own.”
“A point to ponder,” she mumbled.
“And you better not return him wearing that bougie Tiffany’s collar,” I warned.
“That cost a fortune, and if I’m gonna look after him, he’s gonna be stylin’.”
Gross.
She opened the door, stopped again and turned to me.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she said softly.
The tears hit my eyes, but I didn’t speak.
I didn’t need to.
“He’s in love with you too, right?”
I sucked my lips in and bit them.
“And there’s no figuring it out?”
I shook my head.
Once.
“Babe,” she whispered achingly.
She so got me.
“I’ll survive.”
And I would.
I had for year, hadn’t I?
