Page 21 of Buy Me, Love
“So do I, baby,” I tell her, taking her in my arms. “So doI.”
Kit
Two Months Later
I kneel downin front of the crate and try to coax the pretty yellow lab toward me. She and her puppies just arrived from Puerto Rico. There’s a serious problem with strays there, and the shelter I volunteer at is working with a shelter down there to bring as many dogs over as we can handle. We’re having a little event tomorrow evening to show off the animals, hoping some prospective parents will come by and ultimately apply to adopt some of the dogs and cats we haveavailable.
The money Max donated to the shelter has gone a long way so far, and we’ve just barely started our expansion. More room, more crates, more blankets, more kibble. And that means more animals we cansave.
“That’s it, come here pretty girl,” I whisper, putting my fingers out to her. I don’t get too close. Trust needs to be established first, and rehabbing these animals is a tough journey but so rewarding. If I can get through to even one animal it makes it all worth it. All the hours spent cleaning up after them, fostering, training, it’s all worthit.
I’m able to make some progress with her, and by the time seven o’clock rolls around and I tuck her back into her crate with a fresh supply of water, my phone is ringing off the hook from my backpocket.
“Hello,” I say warmly when Ianswer.
“Hello,” Max replies. I put my phone between my shoulder and my ear to wash my hands in the break room and grab an allergy pill from my purse. I love the animals and I’m not letting a mild allergy to cat dander stand between me and my friends. “Are you almost ready? We have a reservation at Cipriani at seven-thirty.”
“As if you had to remind me,” I tell him with a laugh. My stomach grumbles. “I used my lunch break to look at the menu and I already know what I’m getting. Wait, shit. Are we going downtown ormidtown?”
“Midtown,” he says. “What are youwearing?”
“Ugh,” I say, peering down at my animal-hair strewn jeans and old Nets t-shirt. “I’m not really dressed appropriately for it. Hell, I’m not dressed appropriately for downtowneither.”
I push the door to the shelter open and turn to wave goodbye to my colleagues. I come to a slow walk in the warm spring night when I see Max leaning against his car with a garment bag draped over his arm. I pull the phone away from myear.
“Oh, hi,” I say, crossing the sidewalk and slipping my arms around him. I breathe him in deeply and let it out. I instantly feel myself turn to jelly in his arms when I look up at him and see his eyes. He brushes a hair away from my temple and leans down to kissme.
“Oh hi yourself,” he says. “I brought something for you to wear todinner.”
“Shut up,” I say, catching his chest with the back of my hand. “Nothing in this garment bag could make me look as good as you look rightnow.”
Damn. Will I ever get over how sexy my boyfriend is? It’s like, it’s not fair to all the other girls. Not because they all want my man - hell, no, and he would never look at another woman with mearound.
I know this to be true, objective fact. Last week we walked by one of my favorite models on Broome Street and I had to stop myself from actively gawking at her. Max didn’t have to pretend to not be looking at her. When I finally tore my eyes away from her amazing ass and looked over at Max to see his reaction, his eyes were onme.
“What the hell are you drooling over, babe?” he’d asked, cocking his head to theside.
I threw my arms out in front of me inexcitement.
“Don’t you know who that is? She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s a literal lingerie model on top of it,man.”
Max just took a deep breath, shook his head and rolled hiseyes.
It’s just unfair how good he is to me. How good we are together. I have to pinch myself every time he shows up unexpectedly to bring me a green tea soy latte. I get butterflies every time he does this thing where he looks at my eyes, then my lips, then back up at my eyes again before sliding his hand to the base of my scalp and pulling me towardhim.
“Should we stop at home for you to change or do you want to change in the bathroomhere?”
“Bathroom,” I say, grabbing the bag from him and standing on my toes to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in threeseconds!”
He looks at hiswatch.
“Three.Two.”
“You know I didn’t mean thatliterally!”
I sneak back inside and tell my colleagues I just forgot something in the bathroom, but then I see my friend Paul wave at Max through the window and throw me alaugh.
Max is in here all the time. He likes to go on our website and look at the wishlist the shelter has, and then pick up the items at a store himself so he has an excuse to come visit me atwork.
