Reuben shrugs. “I’ve never kept one of the dogs I’ve taken in.”
“No time like the present, then.” I tug gently on the dog’s ear, and he gives a groany sound of pleasure. “Bernard,” I say.
Reuben and Sansa stare at me. “What?” she says.
I nod at the dog. “His name is Bernard.”
“Well, of course it is,” Reuben says dryly.
“Don’t you think he looks like a Bernard? My grandfather had a golfing mate called Bernard. He used to knock over the furniture, so my grandmother made him stay outside when he called for my grandfather.” I look down at my puppy. “Don’t worry. I won’t do that to you,” I assure him.
Reuben looks at me and then at the dog. “Well, Bernard, it seems that you’ve chosen Xavier as your person. You are now the one who is in charge of him and his impulse control issues.I have passed the baton to you, and if at some point you regret your life choices, don’t come whining to me.”
The dog pants up at him, looking very much like he’s laughing.
chapter 17
. . .
Xavier
My eyes fly open, and for a second, I don’t know where I am. I’m in bed and the room is dark, the curtains drawn. What woke me up?
I realise Bernard isn’t on the bed when he whines and scratches at the door.
“Do you want to go out?” I ask. “Okay, baby. Hold on.”
I slide into my jeans and grab Reuben’s old Stone Island sweatshirt that I found last night while searching his wardrobe for more clothes. It swamps me, the sleeves falling over my hands, but it smells of him and feels like putting a superhero cape on. I’m invincible when I wear it.
I open the door and click quietly to Bernard, but to my surprise, he doesn’t head down the stairs. Instead, he pads over to Reuben’s bedroom door and sits down, looking back at me and giving a soft bark.
I narrow my eyes. “I really don’t think you can go in there,” I whisper. “He’s already a bit salty about you sleeping on my bed rather than in that basket he bought you. It’s taking the piss a bit if he wakes up and you’ve taken over his bed too.” He tosses his head, and I click my fingers. “Come on. I’ll let you out.”
He stays stubbornly there, and I open my mouth to order him over, but then a soft sound comes from beyond Reuben’s door, and Bernard looks back at me as if vindicated.
“What’s that?” I whisper.
I creep close to the door, and the noise comes again. The hair on the back of my neck rises at the chilling sound. It’s tortured and full of agony and pain. Without a second’s thought, I open the door and surge into the room with Bernard hot on my heels. I hover for a moment, getting my bearings. I haven’t been in here since the day I snooped through the entire house. I haven’t felt it’s my place to treat the room as mine since, which is richly ironic since I’ve scampered all over his life with hobnailed boots for years.
The curtains are open, flooding the room with moonlight that makes the pale bed sheets glow. Reuben’s naked, lying face down with his face burrowed in his pillow and the sheets tangled around his long legs. His muscled back is wet with sweat, and even as I hover, watching him like a creepy pervert, he moves, his hand clenching. “No.”
I’m reaching for him before I know it. “Reuben,” I whisper, touching his shoulder gently. “Reuben.”
He shoves me. It’s forceful, aggressive, and completely unlike the man I know. I reel back and land with a thump on the carpet.
“Ouch,” I say plaintively, surprised not even beginning to describe how I feel as the puppy nudges me, curious as to how I’ve ended up on the floor with him.
There’s a startled silence, and then I hear a hoarse, “Xavi?”
The light clicks on, and his face appears over the side of the bed. He’s covered in sweat, and he looks at me in horror. “Shit,” he says explosively and jumps out of bed.
He crouches beside me, running hands over my face and shoulders. “Did I hurt you?” he says urgently.
I can’t help my shudder as his fingers graze my nipple ring. Don’t judge. It’s been a year since I last had sex.
Reuben interprets the shudder as pain, and he makes a soft, anguished noise. “Ihurtyou.”
I sit up, grabbing his hands and squeezing them. “I’m okay,” I say instantly. “Don’t fret. It was just a bump.”
