Page 28 of Doggy Style

I put my hand out to stop Yessi from touching him. “What are you doing? You don’t know that dog. He could be vicious.”

She laughs at me. “Are you afraid of this dog, Preston? He’s obviously hurt.”

“No, I’m not afraid of him, but he could attack you. We should call animal control and let them deal with it.”

She shoots me an angry look. “Are you insane? In case you can’t tell because you don’t know shit about dogs, he’s a pit bull. And he’s injured. Animal control will put him down without a second thought. We need to take him to a vet. If he’s not chipped, then we can get him healthy and figure out how to get him back to the mainland, and I can take him into the rescue. He’s skinny and obviously neglected. I’m sure he’s a stray.”

There’s no use arguing with her. “We don’t have a leash, or a cage, or a car for that matter. How exactly do you think we’re going to get him to a vet?”

“He’s backed into an alleyway. I don’t think he’ll dart past me if I don’t get too close. Go buy a hamburger and a dog collar and leash. I’ll wait with him here. We passed a pet store a few blocks back.”

Unbelievable.

“Fine, I’ll be right back. Call me if anything happens.”

“We’ll be fine. But make it quick, okay?”

I run up the sidewalk, searching for the store she mentioned. The Hawaiian humidity drenches my shirt. At least Yessi doesn’t seem to care whether or not I look Instagram worthy. Not many girls would spend the first moments of their vacation trying to save a stray. And every girl I’ve dated since Kira has immediately taken a picture of me to post on social media. Not Yessi. Maybe she’s embarrassed by me.

I finally reach the pet store and buy a large collar, a leash, and a water bowl. Once I pay, I stop at McDonald’s and buy a plain hamburger and two bottles of water.

Making it back to the alleyway, my jaw drops when I see Yessi petting the pit bull, who is now nestled in her lap.

Lucky dog—I wish my head were between Yessi’s thighs. Maybe later tonight. “Wow, you truly are the dog whisperer.”

“He’s a sweetie. But he isn’t fixed. His ears are smelly, also, and he has some type of skin condition. Possibly mange but at least it looks to be demodectic instead of sarcoptic.”

Wow—she can diagnose dogs, too. I give the dog the hamburger, which he gobbles up. I can see his ribs, and my throat tightens. A wave of guilt washes over me.

I’m starting to understand why Yessi is so angry with my store. Like Yessi said, this poor neglected dog would be killed immediately by the shelter. Just like my foster dog, Gidget would be. Everyone wants cute puppies, like the ones I’m selling.

And every time someone buys one of the dogs in my store, a dog like this pit bull dies.

I kneel next to the dog and put on his collar and leash. He doesn’t resist, and instead, gives me a sloppy kiss.

Yessi smiles and her chest heaves under her shirt. “He’s so lucky we found him.”

She leans closer to me, and I breathe her in. She smells spicy, yet sweet. I imagine sucking on her nipples, watching her hair cascade down her chest, making her come…

I brush the hair back from her face. “And I’m so lucky that I found you.”