Reagan
Maggie’s not feeling well again, and I hear her wretch from across the room. “Mags,” I say. But it’s too late. She tosses her kibble all over my bedroom floor. I rub her head. She’s still pretty spry for her age, but she’s been throwing up for the past few weeks. I’m going to have to take her to the vet to see what’s up. I clean her mess, and hunker down with a wet cloth to scrub the carpet. But there’s a knock on my door. “Come in,” I call absently.
The door opens, and my heart leaps into my throat when I see Pete standing there. It’s late. “Pete,” I say, as I look up from the puke spot. “I was just…” Are you supposed to talk about puking with a man? Probably not. “Maggie got sick,” I finally say.
“Need some help?” he asks. He walks toward me and drops down.
“I think I’ve done just about all I can do with the floor.” I look down at my pajamas and cross my arms in front of my chest. I don’t even have on a bra.
Pete grins and looks away like a gentleman. I’m wearing a tank top and tiny shorts that my dad would freak out if he saw. I’m not even allowed to leave my room when I’m wearing them. I go into the bathroom and wash my hands really quick. I walk back out and find Pete looking around my room. He touches a music box on my dresser. He opens the top, and a ballet dancer stands up and twirls around to the tune of a song. He smiles and looks over his shoulder at me. “It’s pretty,” he says. “Kind of like you.” His eyes roam down my body, and he licks his lips.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He startles for a second. “I wanted to see you. Your mom said I could come up.”
That makes me smile. “Does my dad know you’re here?”
He shakes his head. “He wasn’t downstairs.”
I have a feeling that Dad wouldn’t like Pete being in my room. Particularly with the way I’m dressed. “If I’d known it was you, I would have dressed,” I try to explain. My gaze skitters to the bed, where a hoodie lies balled up. I usually sleep in it, and I pull it over my head and down past my hips.
Pete’s eyes narrow at me. “That sweatshirt looks familiar,” he says. His eyes grow wide. “Is that the one I gave you that night?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.” I kept it. And I love it. “Do you want it back?”
He grins. “If it means you’re going to take it off, then hell yeah, I want it back.”
Heat creeps up my face. I reach to pull it over my head, and I close my eyes to do it, but suddenly, Pete stops my motion with his hands.
“I was just kidding,” he says. “Keep it.”
I nod and tug it back down over my hips.
“I’m surprised you still want it, considering how you ended up with it.” His brow furrows.
“You’re the only good thing that happened to me that night, Pete,” I say.
He opens his mouth to say something but shuts it quickly.
“I sleep in it.” I lift the neckline to my nose. “It used to smell like you, until my mom made me wash it.” I have a small futon in my room, and I motion toward it. “Do you want to sit down?” I ask.
He nods, but he has gone back to assessing my room. He drags his fingertips down the winning horseback-riding ribbons that line my mirror. I sit down and cross my feet under me. I stick a pillow into the space and rest my elbows on it. Pete wanders toward my bathroom and sticks his head inside. “I think your room is bigger than our whole apartment,” he says.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.
“When you go back to school, will you be in the dorm?” He sits down on the other end of the futon. He turns to face me, and his knee brushes mine. I like it, so I inch closer.
“I have an apartment across from campus,” I say. “Dad didn’t want me in the dorm, and I wanted to take Maggie back and forth with me after what happened.” Maggie hears her name and wanders toward me, slipping her nose beneath my hand. I absently rub her head. “I don’t like to be alone at night.”
Pete makes a kissy noise with his mouth, and Maggie wanders toward him. She’s wary, but she’s not afraid. He lets her sniff his hand and touches the top of her head gingerly. She pushes herself into his path, and he scratches behind her ears.
“You trying to win over my dog?” I ask. But secretly, I love that Maggie trusts him. She has good instincts, much better than mine.
“Trying?” he scoffs. “Succeeding,” he says with a grin. Maggie hops up on her back legs to put herself in his lap. He leans back and pats his leg, and she hops up to sit on him, between us. He pets her head. “You look pretty in my hoodie,” he says to me.
My face is probably scarlet, with the way that he’s making my face flush. “Thank you,” I breathe.
“I like the idea that my hoodie has been all over your body while you sleep,” he says. His voice is suddenly gravelly and thick. His gaze lingers on my legs, but he doesn’t reach for me or try to get me to come closer. He just keeps petting my dog, who is all but upside down as she tries to give him her belly.
I swallow hard, my heartbeat thick and heavy. I clear my throat, and he just looks at me from behind hooded lashes.
“So, what do you want to do?” he asks.
Honestly, I want to kiss him. “Is this a date?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “This is me coming to visit you for a few minutes because I wanted to see you and inviting myself to stay for a while.” Maggie flips over, and Pete laughs. “You’re a pushover,” he says to my dog.
“She’s a dangerous beast,” I say with a laugh.
“As long as she protects you, she can be as beastly as she likes.”
“Fine job she’s doing of that right now,” I grumble.
“Dogs like me. Because I’m a good person.” His lids lower, though, and he licks his lips again.
I tug the hoodie lower over my hips. “Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“I would, if I thought you really wanted me to,” he says. He jerks his head. “Come here,” he says quietly.
I shake my head, but a grin tugs at my lips. “Nope,” I say.
He jerks his head. “Come here,” he says again. “Please?”
I smile at him. I can’t help it. “What do I get if I come over there?” I ask.
“Come here and find out,” he says.
My heart thuds. What should I do? Should I stay? Should I go? I feel like there’s an invisible tether between us, and he gives it a tug when he lifts his hand and crooks his finger at me, beckoning me forward.
I give Maggie a gentle shove to get her off his lap. Because I suddenly want to be there. I want to snuggle against him and wrap myself in his warmth. Maggie hits the floor and blows out a breath as she flops at his feet. And I crawl toward him on my hands and knees.