Bruce whimpered softly and brushed against my leg, looking up at me with those big black eyes.
Right then, I knew in my heart it was a mistake coming to Washington, being this far away from Mom. Money meant crap if she didn’t make it past chemo. I hung up and squinted my eyes shut, the air magically vanishing from my lungs. My legs buckled and I fell to my knees in the middle of the park walkway as tears began to stream down my face. I tried to calm my breathing, acutely aware that I was in public and people were probably starting to stare. Bruce licked my cheek, and I hugged his neck, crying into his fur. He put his paw on my arm and I got the distinct sense that he was trying to protect me.
Breathe. You can’t give up or else she gives up.
I gave myself a few more moments to compose myself, wiping at my eyes, and then straightened. This was not the Lainey Taylor I’d worked so hard to become. Crying didn’t solve things, and if I was anything, I was a fixer. So I’d suck it up and do the right thing, because I was not losing her. I couldn’t. She was my best friend. Life without her wouldn’t be living.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and looked down at Bruce’s sad face. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”
He wagged his tail and gave a toot toot toot of flatulent reassurance.
I rolled my eyes and tugged at his leash. “You’re still gross.”
By the time I got back to Brogan’s apartment, I was in no mood to deal with Bruce’s antics. If he so much as looked at my jacket or shoes the wrong way, I was just going to dump the wet food on the floor and book it out of there.
I fished Brogan’s key out of the jacket pocket and looked down at the dog, who, for the first time in our interactions, looked down in the dumps. I squatted down to his level and gave his thick head a scratch. “Don’t you know, Bruce? Ladies like men with a proper drool to butt sniffing ratio. You’re not going to have any luck with them at the rate you’re going.”
I stood, still feeling the weight of the day heavy in my shoulders, and turned the key. Pushing the door closed with my foot, I unhooked Bruce and placed the leash on the counter. I leaned against the granite and pulled out my phone once again to see if my mom had changed her mind and wanted me to come down to Portland tonight. When the screen lit up, I frowned, my phone empty of messages.
“What the hell are you doing here?” a loud, very unhappy Brogan Starr bellowed from across the room.
Chapter Ten
Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #63
Never invite yourself to a Netflix pity party
My head snapped up and my phone clattered to the ground. Brogan stood in the middle of his condo, wrapped in a towel. Hung very low. Droplets of water beaded down his chest, rolling over the taught muscles.
The towel lay flush against his body, outlining a bulge. On a scale of aww…how cute to there’s no way that’s fitting, it was the Goldilocks of bulges. Just right.
I swallowed hard and realized a few seconds too late that I was staring at his lower half and the trail of hair leading to parts hidden by the towel. What was with me and thinking about his damn dick? It had been a while since I’d seen any action with a real-life one, but this was getting ridiculous. A silicone one did the same thing and didn’t come attached to a person who decided my financial fate. Okay, this really wasn’t the appropriate time to debate the pros and cons of dildos versus my boss’s dick, standing in his kitchen while he was half naked. And I was still staring.
My head shot up, and I met his eyes. “You’re home.” Real smooth there, slick.
“And you’re as observant as ever,” he said drily. “That doesn’t answer my question, though. What are you doing in my house?”
He wasn’t supposed to be home. I’d checked the schedule—he had a phone conference with Japan until nine tonight. Shit, was I going to lose my job because of this?
All that came to mind was durrrrrr—I’d been hypnotized into a state of Brogan Starr Bulge Mind Melt. (It’s totally a thing, okay?) Yeah, because that response would go over well. Once I gained the use of my voice, I said, “Jackson sent me to take Bruce on a walk.” I left out the part where I’d been doing this for the better part of two weeks.
His eyes narrowed. “You aren’t supposed to be here. Only Jackson is allowed in my apartment.”
“I’m so sorry. Jackson was…” Think. Even though I disliked Jackson, I’d never put his job in the crosshairs intentionally. Though I could safely bet the feeling wasn’t reciprocal. “Sick.”