Sera puts her face in her hands and shakes her head.
“Dude, of course I’m not going to say that to him tomorrow!”
Sera splits her fingers open, the better to see me with. “Ugh. I hate your poker face. It defies the laws of physics.”
“Ha! MacLaine defies the laws of physics.”
Sera gives me a small smile, settling her hands in her lap. “He does. He really, really does.”
She doesn’t say anything about the weird little episode we had before. MacLaine and her are having problems? It’s time for me to swoop in and save the day. Only when she’s ready. You can’t save the kitten stuck in a tree if the stupid thing is still on the ground.
***
“How the hell did you find me?” Dean asks. At least he had the decency to buzz me in. The last D. Carter wanted me to do tricks of the sexual variety to let me up to his apartment. Lucky for me, I could tell from the voice it wasn’t my Dean.
The elevator was taking too long so I decided, against my better judgement, to climb up a hundred and five flights of stairs to get to Dean’s apartment in my Brian Atwood’s. The poor things were not meant for this kind of exercise, I’m sure of it. As for me, my breath is only slightly out of whack, and the warmth at the base of my neck reminds me that my hairline is going to start sweating really soon.
Before Niagara Falls hits, I decide to get my shit in gear. “Do you remember me?” I ask, frowning. That’s totally not what I wanted to say. I really didn’t need to sprint those stairs. I’m fit enough, there’s no reason to need to prove it to myself over and over again. Damn, I could go for a giant chocolate cookie right now. That seems like an excellent idea.
“Yeah, you’re the one who hit me with the pony.”
Typical. Just typical. Now he wants to play games?
Dean’s pretending not to remember me. Okay, that stings somewhere in my chest cavity, but I’m not going to dwell on it. I’m the one who made your life hell in the eleventh grade, and you gave me your virginity. Remember now?
God, he’s freaking hot. His big ass shoulders block the whole doorway and his long hair is kinda scrungy looking but I like it. Suddenly, I can’t wait to see him in a suit with his hair like that; the whole juxtaposition might just cause me to go into heat.
“Roxanne… Her name is Roxanne.”
Christ above, he crossed his arms over his chest. Oh, he did it on fucking purpose, too. He’s gotta know what’s going on here, the whole spicy salsa vibes that are jumping between us – means sex is going to be uh-mazing!
For some reason, he keeps frowning at me, and even his crinkly forehead is adorable. It’d probably all I’d see when I’m riding his face. Heat flash; call 9-1-1 ‘cause I am ablaze! I snort at my thoughts, and watch Dean’s eyebrows pop high.
“Can I come in? So I can do this properly?” I ask, feeling my stomach rumble. Maybe he’ll feed me once I get inside. Food, real food. I can snack on his body later.
“Fine, come on in.” Dean waves me through into his apartment and the smell hits me, then the noise. Oh my God!
“As you can see, I’ve got a lot of roommates, so watch where you step. Don’t want them yelping over bruised paws.”
“What the hell is this? You running a puppy mill in your apartment?”
Oh, shit. Green ice. Yup, his eyes are green freaking ice, and they’re deadly, and scary and really hot at the same time. I wonder what his eyes would look like when I kiss the shit out of him.
“Yeah, I’m hoarding female dogs here, and making them breed non-stop because I’m human and I think that gives me a right to treat animals like shit. Yeah, that’s fucking exactly what I’m doing,” he growls. His clenched jaw ticks off the time, and he looks away from me like I’ve gone and made him look at something ugly.
Well, I’m not here for that. Really, I’m not. I’m here for the good karma. Enough good karma and the bad luck will have to go away. Plus, it’s the right thing to do – apologize to him for being a stupid kid back then. If his forgiveness entails me riding him until we both collapse, well, who am I to argue?
Dean’s just making it really hard to concentrate. Even sweats look good on him. Bastard has them on low, like I’ve seen MacLaine do. It’s like they’ve been talking and have decided that this one strategic move by hulking males will turn us females into putty.
I’m still mad that it’s working - flawlessly.
“How come they’re so quiet?” I ask, marvelling at the three dogs, maybe puppies, since I’m not sure if they’re fully grown yet. Dean has a German Shepherd, a Dalmatian and a Yorkie - all looking at me, all lying down in Dean’s bedroom (I think). They’re tails are wagging super-fast, so much that their bodies shake with the movement.