Page 40 of Big Rucking Disaster

Their Samoyed.

“Do you want coffee? I haven’t made a pot yet.”

He stopped his forward momentum toward the kitchen. Finally, he really looked at me. “Oh shit. You were in bed.”

I chuckled. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“I’m sorry. This was a really bad—”

I propelled him toward the kitchen. “I have pods. Coffee in mere moments.” Sometimes he preferred tea, but boiling a kettle would take too fucking long. “Have a preference for flavor?”

“Do you have vanilla sweetener?”

“Of course.” I always kept some on hand for my best friend. I guided him to the kitchen table, then headed to the coffee maker.

“You should at least put slippers on.”

My friend knew me well. “Let me get the coffee brewing and then I will.”

“Do I get to meet him?”

“Huh?” I blinked.

“The guy whose jacket is on the coatrack? Christ, I hope I didn’t cockblock you.”

Heat crept into my cheeks. Fortunately, my dark skin tended to hide that little problem. Unlike my best friend whose skin showed every shade of blush.

As does Johnnie’s.

“He might not want to come out.”

“I can go—”

“Nope. You’re here now. He can choose whether he comes out or not. Are you okay sharing whatever brought you here this morning, or do we need privacy? If I ask, he’ll respect it.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

I cocked my head.

He waved me off.

I finished setting the machine and then hotfooted it back to the bedroom.

Johnnie sat on the bed, putting his socks on. He eyed my feet. “Those must be cold.”

“Hence me coming to get my slippers.” For just the briefest of moments, I considered stripping and putting on underwear because commando wasn’t my favorite state of dress. Judging that would take too long, and after putting on my slippers, I reached out.

He’d finished putting on his socks, so he grasped my hand.

“Do you want to come and meet my best friend?”

“Does he know about us?”

“I haven’t told him…” I took in a deep breath. “But he knows me and is, like, almost positive I haven’t been with anyone since my ex.”

“Which you haven’t.”

“Which I haven’t. That’s why he’s so surprised I have a guest.” I rubbed his hand. “He offered to leave, but I’ve asked him to stay. He has something on his mind, and I’m not certain what it might be. But that doesn’t mean you have to come out to seehim. You’re welcome to stay here, or I can arrange for a cab to take you—”

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