Page 25 of Rush
Ryan nudged me, and I held my arm up high. The closest giraffe locked onto my piece of lettuce, its head lowered, and its purple tongue darted out, wrapping around the vegetable, and sucked it back into its mouth. Then it raised its neck and proceeded to chew happily.
“Holy fuck, I’m feeding a giraffe!” I exclaimed, much to Ryan’s amusement. “Look at that tongue!”
“A giraffe’s tongue is designed to be able to strip off leaves from acacia trees in the wild,” the keeper said behind us. “You’ll see it’s quite dark in color. An almost purplish tone, wouldn’t you say? It’s primarily to stop it from getting sunburned since giraffes spend most of their time grazing on the African savannah.”
Sunburned? I rolled my tongue in my mouth and decided it wouldn’t be very nice.
Ryan handed me another piece of lettuce. “Imagine the things it could do with a tongue like that,” he murmured into my ear.
“Stop being filthy,” I retorted, holding out my hand toward the giraffe. “I wonder what her name is…”
“Her name is Nakuru,” the keeper said on his way past. “She came to us from a zoo in New Zealand a few years ago. She’s six years old.”
“What a sweetie,” I said, gushing, studying her long lashes and big brown eyes.
She came right up to the edge of the yard and plucked the lettuce from my fingers again, her tongue grazing my skin. It felt like sandpaper rasping against me, and I shivered at the contact.
“Do you want to give her the last piece?” I asked, offering the bucket to Ryan.
“Sure.”
He reached inside and grasped the lettuce, then held it up toward Nakuru. She lowered her head one last time, wrapped her tongue around the green leaf, and shoved it into her mouth.
As the giraffe wandered away and we were led back into the public area of the zoo, I turned to Ryan and asked, “Was it what you expected?”
“I wasn’t sure what it was about,” he replied. “It was great seeing them up close.”
“I liked it.”
“Good,” he declared. “That was the whole point.”
“I need to rest my feet for a bit, though,” I said, wiggling my toes in my shoes.
Wandering down the path, we found ourselves back at the parkland by the gates. We’d done the whole loop and then some. Spying a seat, I made a beeline for it and sank down on my ass. Relief washed over my tired limbs, and I slouched with a relieved moan.
Ryan and I sat side by side on a bench, silent and completely comfortable with each other, and watched the world go by. Thinking about all the things we’d seen that day, I grinned.
“Did it do the trick?” Ryan asked, glancing at me as I basked in the sun.
“What trick?” I muttered, my face turned to the sun.
He grinned and shook his head, his attention returning to the view of the weird-looking boar that the map told us was called a peccary.
As I began to understand his question, I let out ahumph. I hadn’t thought about Hunter and his slimy cock, Margaret the mega bitch, or work the entire day. In fact, I’d smiled the whole time we’d been here, immersing myself in the experience rather than worry about things that were completely out of my control. Now, to be like that all the time. That was the goal, I suppose.
“Stay here,” Ryan said abruptly. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, twisting around.
“Just… Wait there, okay?” He backed away like he was going to do a runner, and all I could do was nod.
Frowning, I turned around and cast my gaze out over the zoo. Families were picnicking on the lawn, their rugs and baskets spread out while children ran riot. Strollers were laden with bags from the gift shop, balloons were tied to toddlers’ wrists, and among all of it, the hum of exotic animals entwined with the modern sounds of humanity.
I was away with the pixies when a giraffe descended in front of my face—a plush, cute, mass-produced, soft toy—and I almost jumped out of my skin.
“Holy sh…eet,” I exclaimed, saving my expletive at the last second.
“For you,” Ryan said, sounding pleased with himself. “As a reminder.”
