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I cover the receiver, so she can’t hear me chuckling.
“Also, I know we’re getting better working on our own, but I still think I need your help with Pumpkin. She’s developed a bad habit.”
The seriousness in her tone sobers me up, and I get a twisting in my chest. “What is she doing?” The pit bull seemed fine at the party, but if she’s begun to display aggression towards people, then that could mean trouble.
“She’s a thief.”
For a moment I’m sure communication did fail between our phones, thinking I must’ve misheard her. But this is Paige, so maybe not.
“A thief?”
“Yes. A sneaky one, too. For weeks I thought I was going crazy, but then I saw her do it. Caught her red-handed. Or red pawed, I guess.”
“You’re going to need to clarify because I’m lost.”
“Towels. She keeps stealing my towels!”
“Your towels?”
A huff sounds through the phone. “Yes. I didn’t know what was happening at first. I kept thinking I forgot to bring one into the bathroom with me. But then I caught her in the act yesterday. I was in the shower”—oh fuck—“and I thought I heard a noise, so I pulled the curtain back a bit, and there she was, towel in her mouth, tail wagging like she’s proud or something. Then she sprints out of the bathroom. So, for like the tenth time, I have to get out of my shower, soaking wet, with no towel.”
Paige is trying to kill me. I’m sure of it. She cannot keep talking about her naked, wet body and expect me to live through the experience. I’ll be lucky if I can stand up out of my car with my dick so hard.
“Apparently, she’s been hoarding them under my bed. She’s got a whole towel nest built up. So, what should I do? Is that something we could work on next time you come over? Like, maybe I’ll get in the shower and when she goes for the towel you tell her no? Sorry. I’m not the dog trainer. I don’t want to tell you how to do your job.”
“I’ll think on that. Text you tomorrow.” I rush through the words and hang up without waiting for her say goodbye then throw my phone in the backseat like it’s on fire.
Fucking hell. Did Paige just ask me to hang out in her bathroom while she showers?
Maybe if more of my blood was up north, I’d be able to figure out if she was flirting, or joking, or just oblivious. Unfortunately, I’ve lost all ability to reason, and I don’t think it’ll return until I take care of the misbehaving animal in my pants.
Time for a nice long shower.
Chapter Twenty
Dash
“You have powdered sugar…well, everywhere,” Paige laughs as she uses a napkin to wipe my face.
I let her take care of me, enjoying the way her eyes focus on my mouth as she works to clear away the sweet, white powder.
We’ve snagged a table outside at Cafe Du Monde, one of the go-to places for tourists. I can’t fault out-of-towners for flocking here in search of beignets, squares of fluffy fried dough drowned in the powdered sugar that now covers my face.
“I’m sorry, but you still kind of look like a coke addict.”
I snort at her comparison, reaching for my napkin. If I don’t take care of it, I’ll be tempted to ask her to lick me clean.
Can’t have that.
Dirty thoughts have been popping up in my head all day, ever since we met up in front of the aquarium. I’d decided that looking at fish would be a good way to stifle my sexual urges. Instead, the two of us wandered around in the perfect mood lighting for an hour, and I couldn’t stop picturing what Paige would look like soaking wet.
Plus, she kept grabbing my arm as she pointed out all the creatures she liked. One time I must have stiffened under her touch because Paige snatched her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest, effectively tucking them away.
“I’m sorry, Dash,” she murmured the apology, staring up into my face with pleading eyes that reminded me of Pumpkin. “I know I said it on the phone, but I want you to know, I meant it. I promise I’llneverkiss you again. I swear. And I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
That’s what I should’ve wanted to hear. I told myself to go along with it.
Instead, a surge of loss and denial rose in my chest, so strong that I reached out for her without thinking about it. Prying one of her hands-free, I laced our fingers together.
