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Exactly how much did Damien know? I got into some really private stuff with Dr. Little. Backtracking through it all during the walk home, I nearly knocked into a fruit stand.
Feeling fired up, when I arrived at my building, I impulsively passed my door and charged over to Damien’s apartment. The dogs, who were normally quiet in the evenings, were barking up a storm for some reason.
Knocking frantically, I planned to demand that Damien tell me exactly what he’d heard through my wall. When he didn’t open, I knocked harder. The barking intensified, but still no answer. Just as I was about to turn around and leave, the door flew open.
Damien’s dark hair was drenched, and beads of water were dripping from his forehead down to his chest. He was completely wet. The carved V at the bottom of his abs was proof that all of that working out downstairs was paying off. A small towel wrapped around his waist was the only piece of fabric on his otherwise naked body.
Rippled muscular body.
Holy shit.
He was obscenely hot.
I pried my eyes upward. “What are you doing answering the door like that?”
“What am I doing? What are you doing, knocking on my door like a lunatic? I tried to avoid having to get out of the shower, but I thought there was something seriously wrong. And what the hell is that smell? That’s not bacon, is it?”
“Yes. I was cooking bacon at work. I—”
“Fuck!” he growled through his teeth.
“I came to talk to you about fixing the hole in my wall, but clearly—”
Before I could finish my sentence, the two black rottweilers had charged toward where I was standing, pouncing on me as their weight knocked me onto my ass. They frantically licked my face, neck, and chest as I lay on the hallway floor. They were also biting at the material of my shirt.
Terrified, I managed to cry out, “Get them off of me!”
Damien struggled with the massive animals to finally remove them off my body. My face was sticky from slobber.
He forced them back into his apartment as their paws scratched and slipped against the hardwood floor. Damien then returned to the hallway and slammed the door behind him to lock the dogs inside.
He reached out his hand, and I took it as he slowly but forcefully lifted me off of the ground as if my body were light as a feather.
Speechless, I looked down at myself. A huge chunk of material was missing from the front of my shirt, exposing my bra.
He looked liked he was struggling with what to say. “Chelsea, I—”
“Are you happy now? Look what they did to me.”
“Fuck. Really? No. I’m not happy. The dogs are obsessed with bacon, okay? It’s like their catnip. That’s why they jumped on you. Why the hell did you have to come in here reeking of it?”
“I need to go,” I said, headed back toward my door.
He tried to stop me. “Wait.”
“No. Please. I just want to forget this ever happened.”
I retreated back to my apartment, leaving Damien standing there with his hands on his waist.***After a hot shower, I’d calmed down a bit, starting to think that maybe I had overreacted in blaming Damien for the dogs’ freak-out. He’d done his best to get them off of me quickly, not an easy feat considering he was also gripping his towel to keep from revealing his junk.
I was also pretty sure he was trying to apologize before I’d cut him off. Still, I had a bone to pick with him about the eavesdropping. But nothing was going to get addressed tonight. I was way too tired and feeling defeated.
Grabbing my purse, I decided to walk to the bodega and pick up something simple to make for dinner. Nearly tripping over a small bag on my way out, I bent down to pick it up and recognized that it was from Casper’s, the funny t-shirt store in town.
Inside was a rust-colored shirt in size small with white writing. It said You Bacon Me Crazy and had a smiley face with lips made out of bacon strips.
There was no note inside, but I knew it had to be from Damien.
On the return trip home with my groceries, I kept thinking about how he’d gone out of his way to buy the t-shirt as a peace offering. Was I being a bitch and overreacting about everything from the hole in the wall to the bacon attack? I honestly didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t really like the overly sensitive person I’d become over the past year.
After making myself a quick dinner of spaghetti and marinara sauce, I went back to my room to read. Every time I sat up in bed, I couldn’t help but wonder if Damien was on the other side of the wall.
