Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“She usually starts on the bed and ends up on the floor or on her dog bed. I don’t know if I roll around too much or if I’m just in her way or something.” I hadn’t had an actual human to share a bed with, well, ever. So I had no way to know if I was a good person to share a bed with.
“You think she’s gonna be anxious here tonight?” he asked as she started sniffing around the room. “Has she ever spent the night away from home?”
“Aside from the night after she got spayed, no. She’s always been at home. But… we did change apartments once, and she handled that okay. So she will probably be alright. I might leave the TV on low to distract her from the different sounds around here.”
“I always sleep with the TV on too. Used to drown out the sounds of the parties at the clubhouse. Now, here, it feels too quiet, so the TV helps with that too. So,” he said, clapping his hands, making Frida look over. “What do you want for dinner? Got pretty much any kind of takeaway you could want in a few mile radius.”
“You don’t have—“
“To feed you?” he cut me off, brows raised. “Yeah, baby, I’m pretty sure I do need to do that,” he said. “So, what’re you in the mood for?”
After the insanity of the past two days, only one thing was going to cut it.
“Pizza. I need grease and cheese after all of this stress,” I admitted.
“Pizza it is,” he agreed. “What kind of pizza?”
“Whatever kind you—“
“Let’s try that again,” he cut me off. “What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked, shooting me a small smile.
“Mushroom and onion,” I admitted. “But I like plain too, if you’re not a fan of—“
“Mushroom and onion sounds good. What else do you like?”
“That’s plenty.”
“What about to drink?” he asked. “I got nothing in the house, tell me what you like. I did grab you a box of your tea from your place. But cold drinks…”
“Water is fine.”
“Siana,” he said, sighing at me. “You know what? We’ll hit a convenience store on the way to get the pizza.”
With that, he walked over toward the closet, grabbing some fresh bedding, and placing it on the top of the dresser.
I wanted to object, but I was starting to think I was ticking him off a bit. And since I really didn’t want to go back to my apartment yet, I needed to let him have his way.
“Okay,” I agreed, then started to put some of my things away. Shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in the bathroom as well as my toothbrush and paste.
I piled the books on the nightstand.
I kept my clothes in the bags, but set them near the dresser, not wanting it to look like I was moving in or something.
By the time I brought Frida’s bowls and food out to the kitchen, I found both Frida and Alaric missing.
There was a moment of panic before I heard Alaric’s voice from outside, coaxing Frida to go potty.
I moved in front of the back door, looking out the screen to see him carefully leading her around while Frida sniffed dubiously at the overgrown yard.
There was no way to explain why my heart did a little squeeze in my chest at his patience and her trust.
There was a quiet voice inside my head as I stood there.
One that said I was in dangerous territory with Alaric. That it wouldn’t take much for this little crush I had to turn into something infinitely more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alaric
She was uncomfortable at first. Clearly used to living alone, she seemed to struggle with the idea of being perceived while in a domestic setting, constantly looking over at me, gauging my reaction.
I wondered if it was as obvious to her as it felt to me just how fucking adorable I thought she was.
Making a home seemed like something that came natural to her, so she set to clearing off my makeshift dining table, organizing my piles of supplies by task or space they’d be used for, and placing them in said locations.
Then she set the table. Even though all I had in the house were flimsy paper plates, a couple coffee cups, and mismatched flatware. Hell, the woman actually went out back with Frida, and while she walked her, gathered up some random flowers growing in the yard, and stuck them in a plastic cup at the center of the table.
By the time we had to leave to go pick up the food, the place looked more homey in just an hour than it had since I’d moved in.
As I’d promised, I made her tag along to the convenience store, where I followed behind her, grabbing everything she paused to look at because she seemed determined not to actually pick anything up save for some iced tea.