The Blind Date by Landish, Lauren (suggested reading .txt) 📕

Stephanie looks from Noah to me, though it seems like she has a hard time prying her eyes away from Noah. She makes a sound of surprise when Noah offers a wink. “Oh! I get it! You might not want to say. Silly me, sorry!” She mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key. “Thanks again, Riley. ’Bye, Raffy!”

She pets Raffy one more time, and he rolls over, offering his belly. Stephanie smiles but walks away with Muggles. Raffy sniffs in displeasure at the rebuke.

We go back to our chairs, and Noah looks around as we sit down. I think his headcount of people has changed from potential dollars and cents to possible threats, even though Stephanie was totally polite. “How often does that happen?”

“I think that’s the first time. Certainly the first time with a dog.”

Noah recoils. “That wasn’t a dog. It was a small bear with droopy jowls.”

“But he was so cute,” I argue.

Noah goes quiet, watching the water for a bit. “You know,” he says after a moment, “if you don’t want me on your feed, that’s okay.”

“No!” I protest, sitting up. “I mean . . . that’s a big step. Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Well, our families know at this point. I mean, isn’t it a thing now to be ‘Social Media Official’, capitalized?”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Probably for some people. But this is different. We’re not a marketing ploy, and I don’t want to use you like that. At the same time,” I say carefully, “I try to be honest about my life. That’s the deal. I’m not fake. I tell people when there’s a filter or it’s a sponsored thing. I want people to be authentic, and I want to practice what I preach. But that doesn’t have to mean you want to do that. I’ll honor your wishes on that too, of course.”

He’s thoughtful for a moment, scratching Raffy’s belly.

“I want people to know about us, like our families and your followers, I guess. Because they’re important to you too. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours. I don’t want to be this secret you hide away.”

“Noah, no.” I do not want him to think for a second that I’m hiding him. That’s not what this is. I’m protecting him. People can be vicious behind the anonymity of a keyboard. “How about this . . . let’s do a teaser post. You can read the comments and get a feel for how things go, and then you can decide. No pressure either way.”

“A teaser?” Noah repeats.

“I know just the thing. Lie back,” I direct him, and then I snuggle in between Noah’s legs, leaning back against his chest while he puts his head next to mine. Lifting his chin a little, we get a perfect shot of my smiling face and Noah’s smile from the nose down, a sexy bit of scruff on his chin catching a strand of my hair. Just the right amount of tease.

“And . . . caption,” I tell him, typing quickly. My new favorite sight. Seeing him happy makes me happy. “And . . . post.”

I put my phone down, turning and giving Noah a soft kiss. “There. It’s official. We can let you see what you’re getting into first. And then if you can take it, we’ll do a full reveal when you’re ready.”

“If I can take it?” Noah asks wryly. “And what does that mean?”

“Trust me, you’ll see. But for now . . . if that isn’t the sunscreen bottle pressed against my butt, I think you need to get in the pool again.”

Noah hums and nuzzles my neck. “I will . . . if you’ll join me. I seriously doubt the pool’s any wetter than you are.”

“I’m definitely getting there,” I admit, and he flashes a cocky smile. “Come on, let’s have some fun. I still want Raffy to try the waterslide.”

“Because of course a doggy water park has a doggy waterslide,” he deadpans.

I giggle and get up. That definitely wasn’t the sunscreen pressed against my butt. “Of course there is. This place is fun for the whole family.”

Chapter 19 Noah

“So, Raffy . . . what do you think?” Riley asks the dog as they come in the door. “Think you can hang out here?” She looks at him like he’s going to turn his nose up, spin in place, and stomp out like some snobby poodle. Truthfully, I wouldn’t put it past him.

But Raffy curiously sniffs around my apartment, his tail wagging. He and I have spent a lot of time together over the past couple of weeks, making me one of the humans he knows well. He knows my smell, and this apartment smells like me. So I guess he’s willing to give it a try.

Riley still looks a little worried. “Are you sure he’s okay on your rug? And what if he gets on your couch?”

“It’s fine. I’m sure,” I assure her, pulling her in for a kiss. “And if he’d rather, I bought him a dog bed. It’s over there” —I point to the fluffy, furry pouf the saleswoman assured me was top-tier for dogs— “next to the toy basket, and his water and food bowl are right there. I think I got the right food. It’s in the cabinet, so you can check it.” I point to the basket and then bowls on the rubberized mat in the kitchen.

I think I did pretty well making my apartment a place where Raffy can feel at home, and the saleswoman who was helping me said my dog was a lucky animal. I’d corrected her that it’s my girlfriend’s dog, and she’d said, ‘Lucky woman then.’ But when I look back at Riley, she’s got tears in her eyes, though she’s trying to hide them with her hands.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, gathering her in my arms.

“You did all this for Raffy?” she mumbles into her fists. I nod, suddenly thinking I might’ve gone overboard. I mean, maybe it’s a lot, but the websites I looked at said new places can be anxiety-producing