Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Look at you. Such a good pup.” He uses both hands to rub and scratch at Evan’s neck. “Locked, huh? That’s new. Not surprising, though. Don’t want to lose this one.” He looks up and winks at me.
“Not a fucking chance of that happening.”
Z chuckles before standing again. “This is Tank,” he says nodding toward the muscle pup. “And this is Cheer. I thought Cheer and Pup Runt might get along well. He loves to play—especially fetch.”
Pup Cheer barks and wags his tail excitedly.
“My little runt loves fetch too, but I’m not sure if he’s ready yet.” But then…then Runt barks once, twice. He kneels, tail wagging, paws against my stomach, and fuck if I don’t feel the biggest damn smile stretch across my face, pride practically oozing from my pores.
He wants this; he really fucking wants it. When I look down at him, I know it’s not Evan I’m looking at, it’s Pup Runt, and damned if it doesn’t make my heart swell. He’s letting go, owning who he is and what he wants. In this moment, he never had parents who pulled him down or modeling that made him feel like nothing but a fucking face. There was no Peter who stripped him of his confidence while wearing down his soul. He’s free.
Damned if it’s not the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“You want to play?” I rub behind his ears.
“Ruff, ruff,” Pup Runt barks.
“Okay, we can play. Why don’t you get to know Pup Cheer?”
Runt gets on his hands and knees again, turning toward Cheer. It’s Cheer who comes in first, sniffing at Pup Runt. A second later, Runt is doing the same. Then Cheer is whimpering and pawing at him playfully and it’s so fucking amazing, I can’t describe the feeling taking root inside of me.
“Yeah, I thought they’d like each other. Come on. I know where we can go.”
He leads both his pups, Runt and I following him until we go to another room, this one quieter but almost equally as big. There’s padding on the floor, obviously to help keep the pups safe.
“I brought a ball, just in case,” I say as I pull it out of the bag. Kneeling, I unhook Runt’s leash, rub his belly, his chest, and say, “I’m so proud of my good boy.”
Runt leans in, noses at my neck and then licks my cheek, making me laugh.
When I stand again, I notice Tank is still on a leash. “He doesn’t want to play?” I ask.
“Nah. He’s a little older of a dog. He doesn’t always play real nice with others. He gets a little rough.”
Definitely keeping him away from Runt, then.
“Go get it,” I say when I throw the ball. Both Runt and Cheer go running after it. Pup Runt gets to it first, biting into it and then racing back to me.
“Good boy. Such a good boy.” He jumps all over me, excitedly. It radiates off him, seeps into me like my veins are electrified, little jolts of energy and joy pulsing through me.
I don’t know how long we spend in the room playing fetch. Z pulls out a second ball and they both race after them just fucking living, being free, having fun.
We take a break and I pour a water bottle into a bowl I brought for Runt. He laps it up before the two play again. It’s so fucking crazy to watch. I wonder how long Runt’s been trapped in there, how long Evan’s needed something, some way to just open up and let himself be. He’s not trapped by any rules here—his parents’, Peter’s, his own. He can just be on this pure, honest, basic level that I think so many of us lack in our lives.
I have no doubt someone would look at this and see it as strange, weird, but it’s not. It’s raw and real on a level that’s hard to understand. Who doesn’t want to shed the responsibilities of their life? Who doesn’t want to get back to just being able to play and be happy? Who doesn’t want praise and love? And who wouldn’t want to give it? That’s what this is about and the more I watch him, the more I love him.
When Runt and Cheer have worn themselves out, Runt sits at my feet, rubs his head against my thigh, and I know what that means. He’s tired and he’s ready to go home.
“We’re going to head out. Maybe we can get the pups together another time?” I ask Z.
“Yeah, I think they’d like that.”
Later, when Pup Runt is gone for the night, I’m lying naked and sweaty in bed with Evan after really fucking hot sex. His lock is still around his neck, and I feel it, cool against my skin when he puts his head on my chest.