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I’m fucking winded.
Groaning under the weight of a dog who looks too damn smug, almost like she knows exactly what we were doing. As Molly rolls right over, wiggling around the bed to find her place, the storm of emotion dissipates.
I can finally laugh again.
“Sorry,” Destiny says, maneuvering the dog so she’s not crowding us. “She does this thing where she crawls out of bed and then jumps back in later. My little cannonball.”
“You’re lucky I like dogs.”
“Even on your bed?” She smiles.
“If she’s a nice dog—and housebroken.” I shrug.
It’s probably a good thing we have this distraction, so we’re not lost in what this means or doesn’t.
Hell, or maybe I’m the one who needs the distraction.
Hell, maybe I’m the only one putting meaning into this where it shouldn’t exist.
Destiny wraps one arm around Molly and the other around me. The pup slowly settles, content in her throne of tangled sheets.
“Just a few minutes, girl. Then it’s back to the floor,” she says with a yawn.
Molly licks my face, and against my better judgment, I close my eyes and pass out.
16
A Little Sit-Down (Destiny)
To say I’m the worst person ever is an exaggeration.
Probably.
Like, it’s probably a bit much to go ahead and walk the streets with someone ringing a bell behind me and calling “Shame, shame!”
Still. I feel like roadkill drenched in turpentine and set on fire.
Molly tugs at her leash, excited to be headed back to Alki Beach again, the place that always draws me back when the time comes to process my emotions.
I’ve been avoiding it the past few days because—
Well, becauseShepherd.
Go ahead. Tell me it’s hilariously stupid and pathetic.
Although, to my credit, I’ve also not wanted to linger around there in the public eye and risk feeding our little image problem. I especially don’t want some idiot snapping pics of me looking pensive while jogging, heartache in my eyes.
There’s nothing worse than the entire world seeing you all moody while you’re sweatier than a melting popsicle.
But today, I decided I’m done hiding.
Life goes on, even when you’re a billionaire’s daughter stuck in a crazy, confusing thing you can’t define with Seattle’s most eligible bachelor.
The ocean air slaps my face, but it has that extra hint of summer warmth that makes it pleasant.
I’ve swapped out my running pants for shorts, perfect for keeping pace with an overactive pup who still likes to trip over her lanky legs.
I’m actually thankful one of us is oblivious to how messed up things are.
