Creeping away from the concession stand and down the hallway, we make our way in the direction of the noise. All my cleaning shit’s been toppled, the mop strewn across the walkway, dirty water everywhere.
Muffled scuffles skitter across the rubber flooring. Cody jumps, his hand latches onto my biceps, his front presses against my side. He’s gone from prickly, bite-y Cody to terrified, “I need Ari to protect me” Cody.
Fucking score. Maybe our date should be watching scary movies.
“A-Ari.” His lip trembles.
“C’mere, sweets. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” I let him curl into me as I relieve him of the broom. That’s when I spy our culprit, a fury, narrow-nosed interloper with claws. “Awww, look at him. He’s frickin’ adorable.”
“What is?”
“The raccoon.”
“Raccoon? That’sworse.” His arms find their way around me, and while that kiss was epic as fuck, I might like this even better.
Yeah, no. I can’t think of anything about this situation I’d call “worse”, not when he’s right where I wanted him all along. “How is that worse?”
I enjoy the warmth of him while it lasts. How do I get him to stay like this?
“They attack when they’re cornered. Fuck. Get rid of it! I can’t look.” He hides his face in my chest.
“I’ll get him out of here,” I say. For his part, the raccoon’s unbothered. He must encounter humans often while he’s ransacking the neighborhood. “You might have to let go of me, though.”
He nods, reluctantly letting go.
“Wait. Don’t go near him. He could have rabies.”
The raccoon studies me, probably wondering if he can go on about his business.
“He’s more afraid of me than I am of him,” I say, even though I’m sure this raccoon isn’t afraid of anything. I’d keep him as a pet if Merc would let me. But Merc still hasn’t forgiven raccoons because of the family of raccoons who turned our outside garbage bins into an all-you-can-eat buffet. We missed garbage pick-up because of it and with a family as big as ours, inconvenient doesn’t cover what we went through that week.
I shake the broom in his direction, in a coaxing manner rather than threatening. He’s well-fed and flipping adorable. Beauford—I’m calling him Beauford—slinks by us and out the back door.
I step forward, hoping Cody’ll let me hold him again. He’s shaking, removing his glasses to wipe his eyes, fighting to steady his breath.
“I-I-I had a dog once … raccoon killed it.”
Okay, fair. Raccoons are cute, but they’re still wild animals.
“Come back here.” I hold out my arms for him.
He stares at my open arms for so long that I think he’ll take me up on the offer. Instead, he sniffles. “No. I … lock the back door next time.”
“I will. I will, Codes. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s o-okay. I gotta go.”
He rushes from the hallway toward the front entrance. You can practically see the cartoon smoke.
Shit. I still have to lock that door and?—
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Cody, wait. Just a second!” I chase after him, wanting to reach out and yank him to me, but that’s not gonna go over well just now. Cody’s left the building literally and figuratively.
Nothing’s locked. He has the keys to the arena, which I usually borrow from him to lock the back.
“Cody, please.”
He won’t listen, feet pounding the pavement. He hops into his car, and then he’s gone, and I’m left with an unlocked ice rink.
