𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞

16 | 𝐸𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑

"Thank you," I murmured in his direction, but he only kept his eyes focused on the beige siding of the animal shelter. His gunmetal colored jeep remained parked below the gray skies of Wyoming. The cold frigid air howling against the car.

I noticed he was really quiet and decided to say, "don't worry, I'm not actually getting a dog--"

"Hell, you ain't!" he retaliated, gesturing to the cars' interior. "My jeep stays untouched, do you hear me? No paws! No whiskers! No shit," he listed off. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes," I claimed, but I knew it was a lie. I mean, I was listening to him, but was I actually going to listen to him? No.

I had to find a way to sneak a dog into my house for a long enough period of time for Sullivan to think that I had a dog. Then I could say it passed away, when in reality, I just gave it back to the shelter.

They have to have trials for this sort of thing, right?

"What are you even looking for?" he muttered tiredly, his scalp pressed against the back of his seat, eyes glaring sideways.

I shifted uncomfortably under his heated stare, my hands worming in between the comfort of my thighs which my light washed jeans fitted around nicely. "A big golden dog."

"You're awfully specific, we're at the pound not 'Build A Dog,'" he remarked, rolling his eyes and allowing a laugh to tremble up his throat. "Let's get this over with before it starts raining," he grumbled, "last thing we need is the smell of wet dog." He threw open the door and hopped out of the jeep.

I followed after, meeting him around the hood of the car as we started for the glass doors. He pushed one open, holding it out for me.

When we entered the main lobby, I was surprised by how much repressed sadness was in the place. The walls were dirty, the floor littered with hair and scratches along the tiles. The main lady at the desk was dressed in blue and she had a friendly face. Among the music, the distant barks and howls were heard down the hallways on either side of the main desk.

"Hey, how can I help you two today?" she asked sweetly, glancing at both Victor and I.

I turned to Victor expectantly because I had not one clue. Though he looked bored, two fingers hooking the leather jacket over his shoulder. I stared at his black t-shirt, and what was supposedly underneath, for a second, turning to the lady wordlessly. "We--uh--"

She exclaimed excitedly, "wanting to be fur parents!" She squirmed quickly through the half swinging door, hands clasped together. "You guys make such a cute couple and will be perfect for a new fur baby--"

"Oh, we're not--" I defended, but he slung his arm over my shoulders, his leather jacket draping against my forearm. It's texture tickled. I tilted my chin to look up at him and he gave a cocky smile. 

"Thank you, isn't she pretty?" he boasted, but I only glared at him. He winked playfully, having too much fun with this as he turned towards the blonde haired woman. "We're preferably looking for a golden dog."

"A golden dog?" she echoed, furrowing her brows. "I'm sure we have a few. Any specific size--"

"Big," I interrupted hastily.

He gave me a look that made me instantly know what sexual joke formulated in his mind. I ignored it as a man came filing through one of the open thresholds leading to a hallway. He was carrying a clipboard, turning towards the door to his right when the woman called him.

"Keith, do we have any golden dogs?"

"I believe the retriever just got adopted," he explained, turning his attention to Victor and I. Doubts filled my stomach in the form of churning nausea. "You guys looking for a golden one, huh?"