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They weren’t love.
Not yet.
One day, but not today.
I put down my phone and went on a hunt for my clothes. Did I have enough time to clean my underwear and dry them off if I put them in the sun? I didn’t really want to put dirty panties on, but I didn’t have much of a choice.
They were all I had, after all.
I located my bra, my dress, and my shoes, but my panties were nowhere to be found. Frowning, I threw my clothes on the bed and got onto the floor. Had they accidentally gone under the bed?
A peek under the frame said no.
They’d disappeared.
How did panties disappear? They didn’t have legs, and as far as I knew, they—
Oh, my God.
I froze.
No, panties didn’t have legs.
But Poosh did.
I scrambled to my feet and ran downstairs. The towel on top of my head fell off halfway down the stairs, but I left it there and went in search of Noah’s dog. She was nowhere to be found in the living room, so I walked through into the kitchen.
Where Poosh was lying in her bed with my underwear between her paws.
And my panties?
Well, rest in peace, my little lacy friend.
“Oh, my God,” I breathed. “Poosh!”
She simply cocked her head at me, holding on tight to the fabric that used to be my underwear.
I darted forward and snatched them away. She’d completely torn them apart, and I felt a pang of sadness.
They were new.
I liked those.
Damn it.
I spied Noah’s trashcan in the corner and tossed the panties into it. “Bad Poosh!” I said, pointing at her.
She whined and looked at me with big, wide eyes.
How the hell did you stay mad at that?
“Shit.” I bent over and scratched her behind the ears. Damn dog. How was I supposed to punish such a cute little sweetheart?
A cute little sweetheart who’d just eaten my panties.
Goddamn it.
I ran back upstairs and into the bedroom where I grabbed my phone to message Noah again.
ME: Your dog ate my panties.
I really hoped he was the only person who saw that message.
Like, really hoped.
My phone buzzed, and I knew it was Noah before I even looked at the screen. “Hey. Aren’t you working?” I answered.
“Poosh did what?” was his reply.
“She ate my underwear,” I said. “I took a shower, and when I came out, I couldn’t find my panties. I found her in her bed with them and they’re totally wrecked.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry. You don’t happen to have any stashed in your purse, do you?”
“We’re talking about a pair of panties, not Chapstick!”
“Fuck. Okay.” The line cracked as he blew out a long breath. “Okay. You’re gonna have to use my boxers.”
“I can’t wear your boxers!”
“What are you gonna do? Go commando?”
“I didn’t think of that. I was too busy telling off your gross little dog until she looked at me and made me feel guilty.”
“Yeah, she does that.” He paused. “You’re gonna have to take some of my underwear.”
I groaned and dropped back on the bed. “I knew I shouldn’t have slept with you on the first date.”
He burst out laughing. “Yeah, yeah. Look, I have to get back to work. My boss thinks I’m using the bathroom and he’s gonna send a search party if I stay much longer. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks. Do you want me to let Poosh into the yard before I go?”
“If you have time, that’d be great. Thanks, Reagan.”
“No problem. I’ll let you go back to work so I can get to snooping through your drawers. Bye!” I hung up to the tune of his laughter and tossed my phone back down.
Right.
Time to find me some boxers.
There was a sentence I never thought I’d say.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – NOAH
Weird Is As Weird Does
I was so out of fucking place here.
Never in my life had I walked into a lingerie store, and I didn’t need the floor-to-wall mirror behind the bras to know that I stuck out like a sore thumb.
A mom with a teen daughter eyed me cautiously as her daughter dug through a basket full of discounted underwear. I gave her a timid smile and turned away so she didn’t think I was some kind of weirdo.
These places were not made for guys.
Not even the poor guy whose eyes were darting around like he was on the run from the FBI while his girlfriend rifled through a sale rack.
I had no idea what the fuck I was doing here.
I knew, obviously. I wanted to make up for Poosh being a little asshole, but I really hadn’t though this through.
Go into the store, the guys at work had said. Buy a pair to replace the panties Poosh ate.
That was what happened when you let your friend use your phone to text his girlfriend without making sure your own conversations were shut down.
