Chapter 7 7: Chrissy

Fluffy is too big to ride in the front seat of my Nissan Juke, so as we drive home, he’s sitting in the back seat with his front half between the front seats and his head in my lap. I have to move the seat back just to have room for the steering wheel to move, but I don’t mind. I stroke the spot between his ears as I drive, my mind running so fast that I’m silent for the ride.

Yesterday was absolutely bonkers, and now I’m driving home with a new dog and no idea if my apartment building is even going to allow me to keep him. Am I going to have to move? Am I going to have to live out of my car?

I stop at a stoplight and look down at Fluffy. He’s sound asleep, tongue hanging out, with what looks like a smile on his snoring muzzle. I smile to myself, knowing without a doubt that nothing is going to come between Fluffy and I. Not now, not ever. It’s like there’s a fist in my chest that’s clenched around my heart and pulling me toward my puppy.

I place my other hand on my chest and rub. I’ve never felt like this for anyone, much less a dog. Is it because I saved him? Or is it because he appeared when I was lost and alone and needed someone as bad as I did? But then, he isn’t someone. He’s a something, right? He’s a dog, not a person, so why do I feel like this?

I’ve never even owned a pet before.

What does a husky even eat?

A car honks behind me right as the light turns from green to yellow, and I gun it instinctively, almost running a red light as I peel out and speed away.

Fluffy jerks awake and bears his teeth as I almost hyperventilate.

“Whoopsie?” I laugh dryly and stroke his shoulder to calm him down. “Everything is ok, buddy, we are almost home now.”

From the corner of my eye, I swear I see Fluffy roll his eyes. He flops down with a sigh and shakes his fur. This time, when he puts his head on my lap, he stares up at me. I risk a glance down, staring into his steel gray eyes. They look so human…

I shake myself. “Man, I need some sleep,” I say, eyes focused back on the road. “What do you say we go home and take a shower and then just pass the fuck out?”

Fluffy starts panting in response, his tongue licking my free hand.

“Sounds good to me, too. We’re almost home now.”

As I pull into the parking garage, Fluffy gets up and looks around. He seems to startle, then he crawls all the way in the back seat and tries to make himself as small as possible. He’s whining quietly; it almost sounds frustrated.

“What’s wrong, boy? What is it?”

His answer is to whine louder.

Shrugging my shoulders, I navigate the underground garage looking for my assigned spot. I turn the car off and unbuckle, hopping out too fast. I put too much weight on my hurt ankle and yelp in pain. I almost fall, but I grab the car door and swing outwards instead, slamming my back into the car next to me with an embarrassingly loud squeal.

Mortified, I look around the garage. Much to my dismay, two very attractive men my age are leaning against the wall waiting for the elevator. One of them looks worried, but the other barks a laugh.

Blushing and embarrassed, I stand ramrod straight and try to straighten my clothes the best I can. “Men are stupid,” I mutter, trying to push off some of my shame by insulting them for no reason. I bet that would have looked funny to me if it weren't me experiencing it. I’m just being salty.

The laughter chokes off fast as Fluffy gets out of the car.

On all fours, his eyes can see over my little car. If he were to stand, he would tower over it. Very scary. 

Oh. My. God.

I literally have scary dog privilege now!

Bolstered with sudden confidence i put one hand on my hip and snap my fingers at Fluffy as I walk away. My loyal boy is by my side immediately, head held high and lip twitching at the men by the elevator. Their eyes are wide with fear; it’s obvious, so as we approach them, I wrap my arm around my Puppy’s neck and smile boldly.

“What? Never seen a husky?”

They look me up and down, taking in my torn clothes, and then look back at Fluffy.

“Husky?” the one who had been concerned asks.

The other one eyes me again and again, and then just breaks into a fit of laughter.

“Dude, knock it off!” his friend says, jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow.

“I–I can’t!” the other one satys between peels of laughter. “Do you know who—”

Fluffy snaps at the guy so suddenly that he falls backward on his ass with a hilariously shocked look on his face.

“Ignore him, miss, he’s an idiot,” the nice one says right as the elevator opens. “You guys go ahead, we will take the next one.”

Shrugging, we walk inside the elevator, and as I turn to press the button for floor 12, halfway up the sky scraper, I swear I see the nice one bow his head to me. 

Freaking weirdos.

When the door opens on my floor, I smile at the familiar surroundings. I have no idea how I got so lucky as to find an affordable one-bedroom in Seattle at all, but in The Ruby? It felt like the luckiest day of my life. The halls are luxurious with thickly padded carpet and dark hues of wood grain and dark green walls. The low lighting is absolutely stunning and comforting.

I walk to room 1203 on muscle memory alone and place my hand on the little black scanner in the door. It reads my electronic microchip in my manicured nails and unlocks immediately. 

I step inside to the smell of pumpkin spice and vanilla. The lights turn on as I walk by, illuminating the high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that line the entire side of the building. I stretch as I move toward my couch, taking off my ruined dress and tossing it on the floor as I go. I rip off the uncomfortable wire bra and kick off the panties, as they have personally offended me. Plopping on the couch, I put my boots up on the glass coffee table and start untying my shoes. 

“Echo, play my winding-down music, please,” I say. My Amazon assistant instantly replies, and the sound of mellow love songs starts playing quietly in every room. I kick off my boots and lean back on the couch with a sigh, closing my eyes.

Hearing the soft padding of paws, I open one eye and see Fluffy with my underwear in his mouth. “No!” I shout, jumping up and trying to snatch my panties away, but Fluffy locks his jaw. “Drop it!” I demand, getting on my knees in front of him and pulling.

Fluffy drops on his front legs like a puppy, ass in the air, and wags his tail playfully.

“Do you have any idea how expensive these were?” I ask.

His tongue lathers over the crotch, drool dripping from his naughty dog mouth.

“Oh my god, you are disgusting!” I squeal, letting go and crawling back a few paces.

Fluffy chuffs victoriously and lies down, chewing furiously.

“Fucking nasty…” I whisper, gagging. “Is this what having a dog is like?”

Shaking my head and giving up, I pull myself off the floor and walk to the bathroom without another word. I don’t even have the shower on before Fluffy finds a spot on the carpet in front of the sink and lies down, panties still in his mouth.

“What are you looking at, pervert?” I accuse, wagging my finger at him. 

He just sits there, smiling, ignoring everything I say.

“Watch it, boy. Bad puppies go to the pound!” I would never, but it’s not like he speaks English anyway. Rolling my eyes, I get into the clawfoot tub and pull the curtain closed with a huff of annoyance.