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Chapter Twenty-Two
Alice
I slap all of my purchases down at the register and watch as the cashier rings them up. I might have gone a bit overboard, but I’m feeling protective of my new friend, and I want it to have the best. I got a crate, harness and leash, treats, some toys, a collapsible water and food bowl, a stuffed animal, two toys, and a small bag of the expensive dog food.
“Your total is one hundred sixty-two dollars and fifty cents,” the cashier says.
I don’t even think about it before slapping my card down. I would usually be scrimping and saving during the summer, but now that Simon is paying me to nanny, I have some extra. It’s a little weird now that we’ve slept together, but I shake my head, trying not to think about it.
It was just for fun, no strings attached,I remind myself.
“Here,” Simon says, putting his card down instead and picking mine up.
I put my hand over his, stopping it. “Wait, no. I’m paying for this.”
“Just let me,” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m not poor, Simon. I can afford it.”
“No one said anything about you being poor,” Simon says on a huff and slips my card into his pocket, nodding at the cashier.
“Don’t you dare run that,” I tell the woman behind the register, whose eyes widen at my tone. “Give me my card back,” I tell Simon.
“No. I can be just as stubborn,” he says.
“I’m not stubborn.”
The woman’s eyes ping-pong between us as the dog jumps up to put his front paws on the counter, eyeing the treat bag.
“Says the woman who just took a stray dog on a shopping spree.”
“Not a stray anymore. The dog has been found.” I hold my hand out, waiting for him to slap my card in it.
I’m not sure why I’m fighting this so hard. Maybe it’s the fact that I know he doesn’t want anything to do with the dog, and I’d feel like a burden if he paid. Or maybe it’s me wanting to be independent for the first time in forever. I want to do what I want to do, not what my parents expect or what a boyfriend thought I should do. I want this dog, and I want to support it. It’s mine.
Finally, Simon places the card in my hand, and I meet his eyes, surprised to see a hint of mirth in them.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No,” he says, taking his card from the counter and stepping back.
I hand my card over and watch in satisfaction as it’s swiped, and the woman starts to bag up my items. The dog looks on in appreciation as well.
As we step toward the door, I bend down to unpackage the harness and leash and get it on the wiggly canine that probably hasn’t ever experienced something like this before. Simon grabs the bag of treats and feeds it a few, so I can slip the contraption on.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a smile, our earlier standoff forgotten in the scuffle of trying to figure out how to secure my new, furry friend.
“You’re welcome. Where to now?”
“The V-E-T,” I say, wrinkling my nose and putting a finger to my lips.
Simon rolls his eyes but smiles back at me. “Whatever you say,” he says.
I pull up my Maps app on my phone and find the closest one. We are quiet on the walk over, but it’s not an awkward silence. More of a comfortable one, like we are okay, just taking in the scenery together without having to say anything. Weirdly, my hand is itching to grab Simon’s again, but I don’t. Maybe I’m scared, or maybe I know this little bubble we are in will burst wide open as soon as we are back home.
Something deep inside me knows that last night won’t be the norm once we are back. And as much as I thought I might be able to have a fling, I’m not sure I’m made that way. I don’t want to give him up, and that’s going to be a problem. So, I don’t touch him or even reach for him as we walk while the cameras follow along. No matter how much I want to.
The veterinarian visit went surprisingly well. Turns out, my big boy was a fan of all the pats and rubs, and he soaked in the attention, so much so that he didn’t even know he was being checked out, poked, and prodded. He got a clean bill of health. I have tick and flea medicine to give him, but I’m relieved that nothing worse is wrong with him after living on the streets.
