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Feliz looked at me as if he would rip my throat out. Nothing but rage in his eyes.

“You know, you have a lot of nerve being so aggressive as you sit there covered in your own crap,” I told him.

“Woof, woof, woof, you’re a dick,” he replied. Or at least that was what I assumed he would’ve said if he could speak. Instead, it was just nonstop barking, which sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

I stared at the deranged mutt for a few seconds before turning around and walking toward my kitchen. My patience was being tested, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why Teresa would think giving me that thing was a wise idea. Nothing about my lifestyle or me screamed that I was a dog person. A part of me was highly annoyed with my great-aunt for leaving such a bad gift at my doorstep. Then a bigger part of me became annoyed with myself for being annoyed with her. She was dead. The last thing I could’ve done was let her rest in peace.

Still, I was annoyed.

And grumpy.

And not caffeinated.

As I dragged my feet toward the kitchen, I started my espresso machine and grumbled to myself before I grabbed my cell phone and began reading through my text messages with the updates on the restaurant from the night prior. Then I went to my emails and grumbled some more.

Nothing good came from checking your emails and messages before coffee was in your system. I knew that fact, and still, I failed to keep from checking said messages.

Once my espresso made it into my system, I headed to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and debated how to deal with the dog covered in poop in my guest room. Then it clicked that I had someone who could help a floor above me.

Yara.

Maybe she’d end up being the answer to my jaded prayers.

First, I had to suck up my pride and put my tail between my legs to whimper for her help.

I tossed on my tennis shoes and headed upstairs to the sixteenth floor. After knocking—well, pounding—on her door, I felt relief when she opened it.

She opened the door with confusion in her eyes. “Alex. What’s going on?”

“Hi. I need your help.”

“Is everything okay?” She placed a hand on my arm. “Is Feliz okay?” The warmth from her touch threw me off slightly. Why did my body feel the need to lean in to be touched by her again?

“He’s fine. Well, I suppose.” I cleared my throat and grumbled, “I need your help.”

“With?”

“The dog.”

A sly smile fell against her face. She crossed her arms and leaned against her doorframe. “You need my help.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No.” She poked me against my chest with a big, goofy grin that almost made me smile back. Why, though? Why did that woman make me want to smile when I’d spent most of my days living with frowns? “You.” Poke. “Need.” Poke. “My.” Poke poke. “Help!”

I groaned as I raked my hand through my messy hair. “You’re going to be annoying about this, aren’t you?”

“So annoying, yes.” She rocked on her heels, narrowing her eyes at me. “Give me a good reason I should help you.”

“Because I…” I grumbled, knowing the next words would make her so happy. “I need you.”

Her smile stretched further.

I hated that I loved how it looked.

“You need me,” she sang.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t because you need me.”

I grimaced and turned to walk away. “You know what? Forget I asked for your help.”

“No, no, wait.” She reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me in toward her. That odd sensation rose again from her touch.

Stop touching me, Goldie.

“What? I asked for your help, and you’re mocking me. I’m not going to waste my time here.”

“I’m just teasing you a little, Alex. Do you have to be so serious?”

“It’s my M.O.”

“Trust me, I know.” She smiled again, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her lips. She wore some kind of gloss, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it tasted like.

“I’m enjoying this,” she expressed. “You needing me.”

“I don’t need anyone,” I snipped.

“That’s not what I’m witnessing now,” she replied. “Would it be too much for me to ask you to beg a little, too?”

“What do you want from me, Goldie? You want me to get down on my knees and whimper?”

“With a leash around your neck, maybe, yes. Then maybe I could dog walk you around for a bit,” she teased. “It wouldn’t hurt if you barked, too.”

I softly chuckled at her ridiculousness.

Her eyes twinkled. “Those dang allergies are getting to you again, huh?”

“It’s the dog dander,” I joked.

“Whatever you say, Alex. Whatever you say. So how can I help you?”

“There’s a situation in my apartment with the dog.”

“A situation?”

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. “The dog shat all over himself in his crate last night, and now it’s a mess, and I don’t know how to get him cleaned up because if I get half a step too close to him, he’ll bark and try to bite me.”

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