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The dog dashes immediately to do as he is told. Penelope starts to turn around. “I’ll be back in a—”
“You’re not taking him out dressed like that!” I protest instantly.
Her steps falter, and a frown appears between her brows. “What’s wrong with this?” She tugs at the hem of her shirt. “We’ll just be in front of the building.”
While the black material falls almost all the way to her knees, it’s a fucking shirt, and we live in a building with other students. Othermalestudents.
Fuck that.
“I’ll take him out,” I say instead.
Jade smirks. “As ifyou’re one to talk, Mr. I’m walking around in my boxers.”
Penelope’s eyes widen at the revelation. “You’re what?!”
Dropping the shirt on the chair, I slip into the pair of loose gray sweats. “Not any longer.” I whistle softly. “C’mon, mutt.”
Henry looks from Penelope to me, clearly confused about what’s going on. I open the door and motion him toward it. He debates it for a split second, but the need to go out wins, so he dashes toward the door.
In the last second, I spot the leash and, more importantly, the poop bag holder hanging off it. Grabbing it off the hook, I slip out of the apartment.
Taking two steps at a time, I follow after him, opening the door as we make our way out. The dog runs in front of me, going for the patch of grass.
I watch as he sniffs around before finally lifting his leg. I walk behind him as he repeats the motion a few more times, and then he squats down to do hisotherbusiness. Once he’s done, he kicks his legs and turns to me. His head tilts to the side as he gives me a pointed look.
“Great, just great,” I mutter, pulling out a bag I squat down. The stinky smell of dog poop hits me straight in the face. I look up to find Henry’s tongue lolling over the side of his mouth as he watches me, and I can swear the mutt is laughing at me. “You’re an asshole. You know that?”
“Talking to the dog?”
I look over my shoulder to find Jade standing by me.
“More like cursing him. You leaving already?”
“As entertaining as this would be to watch, I have things to do.” She gives me a pointed look. “But don’t worry, I’m keeping my eyes on you, Bash.”
With a wave of her hand, she walks toward the building next door, leaving me alone to deal with dog poop.
Sighing, I snap the bag open and put it over my hand. Sucking in a breath, I clean Henry’s mess up as quickly as possible and toss the bag in the bin.
“Let’s get back inside.”
Henry doesn’t have to be told twice. He dashes for the door, not looking over his shoulder once.
“We’re back,” I call out as I close the door and go straight to the bathroom to wash my hands first.
“Did he give you any issues?”
“Surprisingly, no.” Drying my hands on the towel, I go back into the living room just as Henry slips away from Penelope and goes for his bowl.
“I keep telling you he’s a good dog.” She glances over her shoulder as she straightens to her full height, a smile on her lips. “You want some coffee?”
She’s still dressed in that damn shirt, but it’s not just any shirt.
It’s a jersey.
And in big, bold golden lettering, one name is written across her back.
Santiago.
