Page 39 of Just the Tipsy
As much as I hate all the pressure Mom puts on me, disappointing her is somehow even worse. Like a punch to the gut, no matter what. She’s not the type to yell, but seeing her expression crumple, almost in hurt, from me not living up to her expectations is almost worse than if she ripped me a new asshole.
I can’t remember a single specific time that my dad chewed me out, though it did happen. But I remember almost every time I’ve gotten Mom’s disappointed talks almost photographically.
“You won’t be,” I say, more out of habit than anything.
ELEVEN
BIANCA
I’m still not usedto being able to stay in on the weekend. Every weekend back in LA was a series of going out to clubs or parties. I putter around the house on Saturday, doing nothing in particular, until Sadie needs to go out again. She’s a tiny little dog and has a tiny bladder to match.
I grab a baggie and let her outside into the backyard. Rather than just doing her business and trotting away to sniff grass or stare at the sky, she runs toward the fence between my property and Waylon’s.
Duke barks on the other side of the fence and Sadie barks back, jumping up and down. She’s way too short to make the leap — his fence is probably around six feet tall, while mine is much shorter.
“You want to say hi to Sadie?” I hear Waylon ask. “Come around — I’ll open the fence.”
I scoop up Sadie, who’s been whipped into an excited frenzy, and head over to Waylon’s yard, my heart fluttering despite myself. I’ve thought about our video call sex way more often than I should. But at the same time, I can’t even blame myself. It was the hottest thing I’d ever done and somehow, it didn’t feel awkward.
I don’t have a single regret. And I definitelyhavefelt regret after doing things like sending (mostly) nude photos to my exes, which is kind of in the same camp. Probably because those situations felt motivated by pressure to give them what they wanted rather than a desire to turn them on.
And turning Waylon on makes things eighty times hotter for me.
I put Sadie down once we’re in and she darts over to Duke, tail wagging. Despite the size difference between them, Duke is gentle with her, sniffing her back.
“Hey,” I say to Waylon. He looks delicious in just shorts, a t-shirt, and a baseball hat. No glasses today, but still — I’m a little flustered.
“Hey.” He smiles back at me. “How’s your day going?”
“Not bad. Just kind of…doing stuff around the house.” I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t put on a bra, and most of the time I can get away with it. But just standing in his presence has my nipples hardening. “How about you?”
“Same. It was a tiring week.” He takes off his hat and rakes his fingers through his hair. “But I was going to take Duke for a short hike, if you want to come? It’s more like a walk on an unpaved path rather than a true hike.”
“Oh, sure.” I haven’t had the chance to get a dose of nature out here. “But how long is it? Sadie usually tops out at like twenty minutes walking.”
“You got her to walk twenty minutes?” His eyebrows go up. “She usually flopped down on the ground after ten minutes for me.”
I glance over at Sadie, who’s already sitting down while Duke gnaws on a ball near her. I think Sadie takes naps for at least 80% of the day, shifting from one cozy spot to another cozy spot, usually my lap. Some days I’m a little jealous.
“Yeah, she’s not super sporty, sorry,” I say.
“It’s no problem — I have a solution.” He grins. “It’s damn goofy, though.”
“Okay…?” What could he possibly be thinking of?
“Here, let me get that and get some stuff together, then we can meet back here in ten minutes,” he says, his eyes flicking down to my breasts for the briefest moment. The slightest, charming flush of pink appears across his cheeks, as if he didn’t tell me my pussy tasted good without a hint of shame just a few days ago. “And you can change if you want to.”
I go home and change into something more appropriate for hiking. Or at least what I think is appropriate for hiking — some leggings and a t-shirt, plus sturdy sneakers. And a sports bra, of course.
When I get back to Waylon’s yard, he has a bag at his feet and he’s putting what looks like another backpack on his chest. Sadie is standing in front of him, watching in rapt attention.
“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing to what he’s putting on.
He scoops up Sadie and places her into the pack, which has five holes in it. He puts her back to his chest and tucks each of her legs and tail into the holes, securing her inside the pouch. It’s a baby carrier for dogs.
“Oh my god.” I put my hand to my mouth, unable to stop the grin that spreads across my face. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” He grins, rubbing one of Sadie’s paws. She looks so content. “I always wanted to take her on hikes with me and Duke, and I figured this was a good solution. She loves it.”
