Page 31 of A Fool's Game

I doubt I’ll ever be comfortable enough to just casually talk to this guy.

I resolve to get Gem alone for our next hang out. Maybe a coffee date when I know he’s at work. I can feel something great happening between the two of us, I just need a minute to get to know her a little better without this guy breathing down our necks.

“This is me,” I say, turning at the base of the brick steps leading up to my apartment.

Taylor looks up and lets out a long whistle, hands still in his coat pockets. “Dang. I mean, I should have expected something like this, but when you said apartment, for some reason, I thought you meantapartment.”

I know he’s trying to get a rise out of me, so I just turn and start up the stairs. “See you around.”

“Bright and early Tuesday morning.”

His answer comes from too close behind me as I fumble with the key in the front door, and I spin. “What are you?—”

“I just want to make sure you get inside safely.”

It sounds more like a threat than anything, but I turn back to the key and unlock the door. When I turn back around, Taylor’s still standing on the top step. “You coming in?” I ask, mostly joking.

“Sure, yeah,” he answers, as if I was inviting him.

I hesitate for a moment, but I don’t see any way around it, so I step back and let him enter the dark apartment ahead of me.

He doesn’t take two steps before the baying starts.

I laugh softly to myself, surprised Doc is up so late. I expected to find him sprawled out on my bed, snoring.

“Hey bud, it’s just me.”

The scattering of toenails on the wood floors replaces the howling as I flip on the lights and everything comes into view. Taylor drops straight to his knees and greets the dog head on, accepting almost his entire body as it flies toward him, paws hitting his chest. “Who’s this guy?” he asks, laughing.

“That’s Doc. My watchdog.”

“Oh, doing a great job, I see.”

I laugh to myself as I toss my keys on the counter and turn on a few more lights. It never fails to amaze me how animalschange people. .Even the gruffest, most in-your-face assholes become baby talking ten-year-olds when faced with a furry friend.

“What long ears you have,” Taylor’s telling the dog.

Case in point.

“Okay, well, I’m safely in my house. You’ve done your duty.”

Taylor breaks away from Doc and stands, facing me, hands on hips. He looks like he’s about to give me some kind of lecture, so I beat him to it.

“Is this the part where you tell me to fuck off and stay away from your girlfriend?”

His face twists in confusion. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

I shake my head and shed my coat, tossing it over the back of a bar chair at my kitchen counter.

To my dismay, Taylor does the same.

“You’re such an asshole,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest.

Something about being in my own house, on my own turf, is making me feel a lot bolder than I have before with this guy.

“Yeah, I know.”

I shake my head, unable to figure out what to do with that answer.

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