My face burns hot with embarrassment as he pulls me along, ignoring my protests. He’s very well trained and typically does as I say, but he can’t seem to fight against his baser puppy instincts that tell him toherdwhen a small squeaky animal is trying like hell to run far, far away from him.
We’re approaching people eating lunch at the picnic tables outside the student center, which is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.
People are staring.
They’re staring as he pulls me.
Staring as I yell every swear word I can think of in Czech, and some in English.
And staring as I spin, losing hold of Kronk and tripping backward over the edge of a metal bench, landing flat on my ass.
Onto the lap of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.
And his sandwich.
There are definitely condiments on my sweatpants now.
I am temporarily rendered speechless; half because I am mortified and half because there is a deep chestnut curl that’s fallen haphazardly across the man’s forehead. I can’t pull my eyes away long enough to gather my thoughts.
So I sit there.
Gaping, mouth dropped open.
On his lap.
Speechless because…he has nice hair?
He has a nice chest too. I would know because my hand is on it.
I snatch it away once I realize and cup the back of Maggie’s head, still mouth-breathing on this man who is staring back at me with a bemused look on his face.
The soft gurgle of her first-everreallaugh pulls me from my stupor. Her joy at my humiliation causes me to huff a small laugh too.
I look down at her smiling up at me from her baby carrier and gather myself before peeling away from the man’s lap.
“Let me help,” his deep voice skates across the skin at the base of my throat, his large hand settling just above my hip bone. There is an electric current that starts at his touch, creating a magnetic force I didn’t think possible between two people who have not yet spoken two full sentences to one another.
He stands, setting me on my feet when Kronk trots back over with a half-eaten 6-inch sub between his furry jaws. I groan as my eyes dart from person to person in the space around us. I’m not sure who he stole it from, but I’m guessing it was probably the blonde staring daggers at me from across the courtyard.
I turn away from her, my eyes raking over the man’s solid torso. You don’t see many students all dressed up on a Tuesday morning, but he makes a cable knit sweater look nice. I’msuddenly painfully aware of my baggy sweats and my threadbare Paramore t-shirt, but looking pretty is not a tax I pay to exist in the same space as nice-looking men.
Even if it was, I would still have fresh spit-up dribbling down the front of my clothing and massive amounts of dog hair clinging to my leggings at any given moment.
“Your dog is pretty cute.” Kronk swallows the remainder of the sandwich whole and stares up at him. My dog is the picture of innocence as he scratches behind his ear. “But this makes me extra thankful that I am a cat person.”
I’m wishing right about now that I was a cat person. Or a gerbil person. Or a snake person. Anything but the person who belongs to this massive ball of furry doof.
Alas.
Kronk knows my anger is short-lived as he plops down next to me, his large body leaning against my leg. His big brown eyes ask forgiveness as he nudges my hand with his snout. Despite my frustration, I can’t resist petting him, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“You are such a jerk.” He licks leftover mayonnaise from the tip of his nose and I roll my eyes toward the sky. Maggie coos from her place against my chest and I’m momentarily zapped of what little energy I have left.
I plop down on the metal bench and breathe out the longest sigh.
Surprisingly, the man whose lunch I just ruined takes a seat too.
“Sorry about your sandwich,” I cringe.
