didn’t think that trick would work in real life anyway.” It comes out sullenly, and I fight the urge to giggle, instead giving him my best I-mean-it stare. After a pause, he turns serious, the anxiety now clear on his face. “I think we need to rethink our plan.”
“Oh, if you want me to leave, you could just say it!” I lash out, thinking he means this relationship, but I begin to blush as I realize he’s probably talking about the dogs. I look down, going painfully silent . Stupid moron. Why don’t I just lay out all my insecurities like a buffet for him to see?
He lets me sweat it a few seconds. Bastard. But I’m still relieved when it becomes clear he is definitely talking about the dogs.
“I think we need to work with the authorities.”
I look up to protest, but he continues, “It isn’t safe for us to just go in there. Not to mention it’s illegal. And I’m not sure it’s safe for the dogs.”
I channel all lingering embarrassment into anger. “Not safe for the dogs? Like leaving them there is safe.”
“I didn’t say it was. But we’re not really equipped to do this. And I don’t want us to mess up an investigation.”
“I can’t just leave them, though. What if there is another fight?”
“I know. I’m concerned for them, too, but I’m also concerned for your safety, for our safety. How about you talk with the humane society and see where they’re at, at least? I assume you have someone you can trust there who might be able to use the info we’ve gathered.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m not sure I like this rational side of you.”
“One of us has to be.”
“I’m guessing that isn’t a compliment.”
“It’s not not one.”
Oh, he’s definitely in a hole now. I just stare at him with stony silence.
Finally, he shrugs. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
“I can take care of myself.”
He looks like he wants to say more, probably reminding me that I almost got myself caught on security cameras, but then he thinks better of it.
I take that moment to calm myself. “Fine. I’ll call Barb tomorrow to see what’s going on.”
“Thank you.” It comes out with such sincerity that I can’t be angry. Part of me even feels a little giddy that he cares about me so much.
We fall back into a contemplative silence, sipping our whisky. Rationally I do know he’s right. I have to at least give the authorities a chance. But I can’t leave things be. I’m too tied to Gracie to just walk away if she needs me. If anything happened to her and I did nothing, well, I don’t think I could live with myself.
Anxiety still rolls off Jorge in waves, even though there is a hint of relief that I acquiesced to talk to Barb. It’s unsettling. Before I dissolve into a full-fledged panic, I finish off my scotch and rise, putting some distance between us. “I think I should head home soon. I need to check on my cats.”
He nods. “May I pick you up tomorrow? What time do you get off work?”
A part of me wants to be angry that he seems to assume a yes to the first question, but I bite my tongue. He is so beautiful that I want to stroke him. This thing between us is so beautiful I want to hold it close. And yet I don’t entirely trust it or him.
But he is right; I’m going to say yes.
“I should be at my house by five thirty. Do you have something I can write the address on?”
He nods, walking into the kitchen. He returns with a pad of paper and a pen.
I write out my address and hand it to him; our fingers linger as he takes it from me. “I’ll see you then.”
“Until then.” He kisses me lightly, and I squeeze his hand before turning to head out the door.
I am inexplicably sad to be leaving even though my head has been telling me that that is exactly what I should do for the better part of my time here. Maybe my head’s coming around to the whole idea of a relationship, even though I am doing a bit of fleeing. I do really need to
“Oh, if you want me to leave, you could just say it!” I lash out, thinking he means this relationship, but I begin to blush as I realize he’s probably talking about the dogs. I look down, going painfully silent . Stupid moron. Why don’t I just lay out all my insecurities like a buffet for him to see?
He lets me sweat it a few seconds. Bastard. But I’m still relieved when it becomes clear he is definitely talking about the dogs.
“I think we need to work with the authorities.”
I look up to protest, but he continues, “It isn’t safe for us to just go in there. Not to mention it’s illegal. And I’m not sure it’s safe for the dogs.”
I channel all lingering embarrassment into anger. “Not safe for the dogs? Like leaving them there is safe.”
“I didn’t say it was. But we’re not really equipped to do this. And I don’t want us to mess up an investigation.”
“I can’t just leave them, though. What if there is another fight?”
“I know. I’m concerned for them, too, but I’m also concerned for your safety, for our safety. How about you talk with the humane society and see where they’re at, at least? I assume you have someone you can trust there who might be able to use the info we’ve gathered.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m not sure I like this rational side of you.”
“One of us has to be.”
“I’m guessing that isn’t a compliment.”
“It’s not not one.”
Oh, he’s definitely in a hole now. I just stare at him with stony silence.
Finally, he shrugs. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
“I can take care of myself.”
He looks like he wants to say more, probably reminding me that I almost got myself caught on security cameras, but then he thinks better of it.
I take that moment to calm myself. “Fine. I’ll call Barb tomorrow to see what’s going on.”
“Thank you.” It comes out with such sincerity that I can’t be angry. Part of me even feels a little giddy that he cares about me so much.
We fall back into a contemplative silence, sipping our whisky. Rationally I do know he’s right. I have to at least give the authorities a chance. But I can’t leave things be. I’m too tied to Gracie to just walk away if she needs me. If anything happened to her and I did nothing, well, I don’t think I could live with myself.
Anxiety still rolls off Jorge in waves, even though there is a hint of relief that I acquiesced to talk to Barb. It’s unsettling. Before I dissolve into a full-fledged panic, I finish off my scotch and rise, putting some distance between us. “I think I should head home soon. I need to check on my cats.”
He nods. “May I pick you up tomorrow? What time do you get off work?”
A part of me wants to be angry that he seems to assume a yes to the first question, but I bite my tongue. He is so beautiful that I want to stroke him. This thing between us is so beautiful I want to hold it close. And yet I don’t entirely trust it or him.
But he is right; I’m going to say yes.
“I should be at my house by five thirty. Do you have something I can write the address on?”
He nods, walking into the kitchen. He returns with a pad of paper and a pen.
I write out my address and hand it to him; our fingers linger as he takes it from me. “I’ll see you then.”
“Until then.” He kisses me lightly, and I squeeze his hand before turning to head out the door.
I am inexplicably sad to be leaving even though my head has been telling me that that is exactly what I should do for the better part of my time here. Maybe my head’s coming around to the whole idea of a relationship, even though I am doing a bit of fleeing. I do really need to