“Maybe I should hate you. You’re a billion times better than me at running the bookstore. It took you less than a month to improve the business more than I did over the years I’ve been there.”
“I’ve got a brain for spreadsheets and a body for sin. Hop in. I’ll take you home, or anywhere you want to go.”
I looked back at Cujo, hanging out of the back seat’s window, his tongue lolling out happily.
“Hey, hero dog,” I cooed at him. “I’m sorry you have to wear that plastic thing, buddy. Think of it more as a Cone of Pride.”
“If you want to thank Cujo, get in and we can take him to the park with the pond, where he can terrorize the ducks.”
I stopped walking, and the car stopped. Adrian leaned over and nudged open the passenger door.
The truth is, I didn’t want to talk to Adrian.
I wanted to get a big eraser and scrub away everything that had happened in the last few weeks between us, so we could go back to just being friends. My adolescent crush on him was cute, in retrospect. Messing up each other’s lives and feelings wasn’t cute. Having innocent people (and dogs) get hurt in the process that wasn’t so cute, either. I wished I could take everything back.
CHAPTER 34
Instead of saying those things I felt and being honest, I climbed into the car and said, “Laura’s a great hire. You did the right thing.” I fidgeted with the seat belt. The damn thing was made for the skinny Storm family and cut into my belly and my feelings. “Fucking seatbelt,” I muttered. “Fucking world. Fucking small chairs and small clothes and fucking inadequate seat belts.”
I tossed it aside, the buckle banging the leather interior and leaving a scar before the belt retracted.
Rubbing the scratch with my fingertip, I apologized to Adrian, the car, and Adrian’s mother.
Cujo began to howl miserably in the back seat.
I turned to Adrian. “What’s wrong with your dog?”
“He howls when people are in distress. He’s very sensitive to emotions.”
“Awesome,” I said flatly. “Now I’m causing emotional distress to your dog, on top of nearly getting him killed.”
“Are you having a bad day?”
“I don’t know. I’m all mixed up.”
“Mondays.”
I took a breath and looked around. We were heading away from the town center, in a direction I didn’t usually travel.
“Yeah, fuck Mondays,” I said. “You didn’t text me back today. How did the soft opening go? I had a look at the sales numbers, and they were good. We can afford to have two people working on the weekends, at least. Were you run off your feet?”
“Keeping busy was good. I didn’t have to think about you, off doing things with Dalton Deangelo.”
The memory of sex in the canoe and then getting dumped into the lake brought a smile to my lips. Yes, I had done things.
“How is Golden?” I asked.
“Never you mind.”
“Did you sleep with her? Because it’s okay if you did.”
“And I suppose that answers my unspoken question about what you got up to over the weekend.”
“You know, Dalton and I are getting married on Saturday.”
“Am I invited?”
“Would you come?”
“If you wanted me to.”
“Adrian, stop being so perfect. You’re too good. You deserve better, and I’ve done nothing but dick you around and hurt you.”
Cujo began to howl again.
“And I hurt Cujo,” I added. “When I think about what happened in the woods…”
“Stop being so hard on yourself.”
“Why? What makes me so great? I’m a college dropout with a dead-end job, or maybe no job. If you haven’t noticed, I go around shooting my big mouth off at people without a second thought to their feelings. I already act like one of those people with a reality TV show, so can you imagine what a monster fame will make me?”
“You’re scared.”
“Duh. Two points for Adrian.”
Cujo barked twice.
“Three points,” I said.
Cujo barked three times.
“Fuck me, Adrian, your dog can count!”
Adrian started to laugh, still facing ahead at the road as he drove into the parking lot for the park with the duck pond. He laughed harder once we parked, squeezing the top of his nose between his eyes with his fingertips.
Was he messing with my head?
“Cujo,” I said. “Count to three points.”
WOOF WOOF WOOF!
Adrian wiped his eyes. “I forgot about that trick. He can only count to three. He’s not a genius, but he is a very smart dog.”
“Cujo, two points.”
WOOF WOOF.