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A silly story about a group of five puppies, and how one of them always seems to find his own way, and the things the other four puppies find as they search for the poky little puppy, then pick up the smell of rice pudding.
It makes me think of the stories Aunt Clara used to read to Deb and me on the nights when we remembered Mom and Dad were gone, when the world felt large and frightening and very alone.
Those stories made us feel like we were all together in a safe bubble. They always eased us right to sleep.
By the time I turn to the last page, they’re all out cold.
Sara chews on the neck of her shirt in her sleep. The little boy who had glue in his hair has one foot sticking out of his blanket.
Elle sits on one of the craft tables, watching me with her eyes soft and a look on her face that makes my heart twist with yearning.
I close the cover and stand, then make my way quietly through the room to offer her the book.
“Here. You win.”
“I knew I would,” she whispers, sliding off the table to take my hand. “We should go. If we’re here when they wake up, they’ll never let us leave.”
I nod and turn the book over to the teacher.
We thank her before slipping out into the hall. The door closes carefully behind us and latches.
Miss Joly gives me an amused look the second we’re free.
“Silver. I’m calling you the Terminator from now on.”
“You’re not as funny as you think, Miss Joly.”
She flashes cunning teeth at me.
“Yes, I am.” Then she pokes Elle’s shoulder. “You owe me one.”
Elle rolls her eyes in amusement. “Thank you, Lena.”
Lena just snorts and waves us off, sauntering down the hall toward the exit. “We’re well past my lunch break. I gotta get back to work. We’ve got six neuters and spays on the docket today at the clinic, and I’m itching to cut something’s balls off.”
The warning is clear.
She’s picked up on something undeniable between us.
If I hurt Elle, Miss Joly will neuter me next.
Elle chuckles, leaning against my arm. “Don’t pay attention to her. She threatens everyone.”
“Glad to know I’m not special.”
“Oh, you’re special. You’re just ... a different kind of special.” Elle snickers and reaches up to flick my hair off my brow. “I should help you get out of those glittery clothes.”
There’s a sudden ache between my ribs and between my legs.
The implication. The memory of the taste of her flesh. The wanting.
Yeah, I wouldn’t mind letting her strip me naked and inspect to make sure there’s not a single grain of glitter left on me.
Before I return the favor with my tongue, searching every inch of her body.
Only, that warning lingers.
I remind myself I’m no good for her. I can’t be.
