Page 208 of Satan's Spawn
“What the hell?” I sit up, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes, and when I do I find Crayton sitting at the side of my bed.
The clock on my nightstand reads 3:30 a.m., and my mind is spinning with confusion, still not convinced this is real.
“Where were you earlier? I was looking for you.” I pause. “And why the heck are you in my room so late?” The last question is a stupid one because we both already know the answer.
What I don’t know is why my Chunky Muffin is climbing on my lap. Regardless of the how or why’s, I scoop my pup in my arms and shower him with kisses, so happy to have my fur baby here with me.
“Crayton, what the hell is my Potato doing here?” I say through a giggle, Potato going back to doing the smooching.
I refused to spend the night in Crayton’s room, in fear of getting caught and in trouble, regardless of Crayton insisting nobody would dare to make a peep.
So we parted ways after two more rounds of sex, which were nowhere as polite as the first, and also had me walking side to side back to my room.
It wasn’t my most glorious moment, but I at least had Crayton with me to ease the embarrassment.
What he did after we parted ways, I had no idea until now, because when I grew some balls and went back to his room, I found Saint there with Annalie in his bed.
Gross.
“I went and got him for you,” Crayton states with a lazy shrug. “Thought you could use him after what you went through tonight.”
Panic grips me by the throat. “What do you mean you went to get him? At my condo?”
“Obviously.”
“How the hell do you know where I live?”
Another stupid question.
“I mean, why the hell would anyone let you into the building far enough to reach our place?!”
He leans close, even attempting to pet Potato’s head as he says, “’Cause my father owns the building.”
Of course he does.
“So you snuck into my condo?” I reproach, sneaking a glance over at Hendrix who’s still out cold.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He points his chin at Potato, who’s already making himself comfortable on my bed. “I was doing something nice. Some may even say romantic.”
“There is nothing niceorromantic about breaking and entering, Crayton!” I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, already sifting through ideas on how to fix this. On how to explain Potato’s disappearance to Mom.
“How about a ‘thank you’ for bringing your furry little rat here?”
“First of all, he’s not a rat, he’s a muffin!” I hiss, which has Hendrix fussing in her sleep.
“Who the fuck is talking so loud?” She groans, lifting her head from the pillow and blowing her bangs out of her eyes.
“Uh. Why is there a dog in our room?” She tilts her head. “And Potato?”
Crayton flips her off as I continue my round of scolding. “How the hell did you get into our condo?”
He shows me a single key. “I made a spare like two weeks ago.”
I slap both hands down onto the bed, making Potato jump. “I knew I wasn’t crazy. My house keys did go missing!”
“But aren’t you glad I did that?” He grins, eyeing Potato, who’s now sniffing Crayton’s pants.
Crayton pulls out a Slim Jim, breaking off a piece of it and feeding it to my dog.
