Animal Attraction (San Francisco Dragons Book 2)

by Kate Willoughby

  “Soy is really good for you, so I substituted the meat with tofu crumbles.”

  “Huh. I don’t eat much tofu.”

  “You’ll like this, sweetie. I promise.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  He went to the kitchen to put it in the fridge, where it would sit until he could safely throw it in the garbage. She followed him and went directly to Lulu’s bed and crouched to pet her. Her thong made an appearance and Spencer turned away as she greeted his dog.

  “Hi, Loobie-Doobie. How are you, sweetheart?”

  Stacy rubbed Lulu’s ears enthusiastically and Lulu’s tail wagged. Kirby nosed his way into the group and Stacy paid some attention to him too. She really was good with the dogs even if she was the worst cook he’d ever met, and that included his ten-year-old niece, Bella.

  “So, this Maddy woman…”

  “Who?”

  Stacy stood up. “The person who lent you her dog.”

  “Oh, Maggie. What about her?”

  “I think you should give her her dog back.”

  “I am. Eventually. That’s the deal. I’m only borrowing Kirby until…you know. He’s like Lulu’s caregiver. Once his job is over, I’ll give him back.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s very nice and all, but you should have asked me. I would have let you borrow one of my dogs.”

  “I didn’t know that Lulu would perk up that way until Kirby was already here.”

  “But you know now, right? See, I was thinking, I have two dogs and she only has one. You could give Kirby back so she wouldn’t be so lonely.”

  “Stacy, that’s really thoughtful of you, but your dogs don’t get along with Lulu. They didn’t like Frank either when he was alive.”

  She pouted. “That’s true, I guess.”

  “I appreciate the offer though.”

  “Spencer, you know I’d do anything for you.”

  He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “So, thanks for the food, but I’ve got to get to practice.”

  “Of course.” She walked out of the kitchen, and he thought she had a bit more swing to her hips than usual.

  At the door, she stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. I ordered a new dog house and I was wondering if you could help me put it together next week. It looks kind of complicated.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Beaming, she hugged him tightly. “You’re the best.”

  After she was gone, he smelled like her perfume and he went back upstairs to take a second shower.

  12

  On his way to Nashville with the team, Spencer was watching the latest Fast and Furious movie on his computer when he felt a tap on his shoulder that he’d been expecting ever since he’d boarded the plane. Mama Marilyn rested her forearms on the armrest and knelt in the aisle. Like a few other NHL teams, the Dragons had their own plane. The Boeing 757 twin-engine jetliner was one of the perks of playing for San Francisco. There was something about knowing that no one else used their plane that made Spencer feel more special. If the Dragons couldn’t get into the playoffs, at least they had their own fucking aircraft.

  “So, how’s it going?” she said.

  He pulled his earphones out and paused the movie. “It’s going okay. I’d really like to get a point this game. I haven’t—”

  She batted his arm. “I’m talking about the wooing. Did you ask her out yet? Do you need to be handing me a fifty dollar bill right now?”

  He glanced at Cameron Bowes, across the aisle, who had noise-canceling headphones on and appeared to be sleeping. A seat ahead of Bobo, Stoner was texting someone. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you never knew.

  “Keep your voice down. I have not asked her out yet.”

  Marilyn grinned. “But you’re going to.”

  “No comment.”

  She chuckled as she stood and walked back to her section of the plane.

  He didn’t start the movie back up. Instead, he found himself staring out the window and thinking about Maggie.

  She’d liked the seats. She’d liked them so much, he wished he could sit with her and enjoy the game so he could bask even more in her pleasure, but that, of course, wasn’t possible. When he thought about playing in front of her, he felt a surge of determination in his bones. Sure, she might be watching the game tomorrow night against the Preds, but at the next home game, knowing she’d come to the arena and that her eyes—her beautifully expressive brown eyes—would be fixed on him, finding his number and following him up and down the ice while she hoped to see him score…that was some serious performance mojo.

  She was probably tucked into bed by now. She probably wore a big T-shirt and fuzzy socks to bed. She might even be the type who put moisturizer on her face before hitting the sack. In his mind, he watched her lean forward in the bathroom to dab it onto her cheeks. Her T-shirt wasn’t quite long enough to completely cover her ass cheeks and he was seeing a tantalizing bit of her white underwear.

  Shit.

  He shifted in his seat but it didn’t help the sudden constriction in his crotch area so he nonchalantly lowered his tray table. All he needed was for someone to notice his hard-on. He’d already been asked if he was hot for teacher about a dozen times, by guys who hadn’t even been at the watch party. But that was par for the course. Any time a guy showed interest in a woman, he got teased about it. Hockey players—hell, men in general—loved to tease each other, especially about women. The teasing didn’t bother him. He wasn’t sure if anything was really bothering him. It was more a worry that he was obsessing over a woman who was already taken. No matter how attracted he was to her, he wasn’t going to go behind some other man’s back.

  A window popped up on his computer. Cameron Bowes has sent you a video.

  Spencer glanced at Cam, who was studiously not turning around in his seat. Bastard.

  The video could be one of three things: funny, raunchy, or offensive. Nothing in between, but maybe all three.

  Apprehensive, Spencer clicked on the link.

  TILF.com, THE place for teacher porn!!! Hundreds of videos of teachers getting fucked hard. All your hottest teacher fantasies for less than a dollar a day!!!

  Spencer chuckled. As he perused the selection, he thought about what to send back. What did Cam dislike? That was easy. He really hated clowns, like really hated. Once he’d absolutely refused to do a group endorsement for McDonald’s because it involved a little humorous hockey with Ronald McDonald. The degree to which he’d objected was strange, and Spencer eventually found out it was because Cam was irrationally afraid of clowns.

  He did a little investigating and found a picture on Facebook with the click bait caption of “Comment when you see it!” It showed a young girl taking a selfie in her bedroom. Nothing special. Spencer took in her large eyes, straight brown hair, the strap of her bra peeking out from under her sleeveless top. But then he saw the mirror in the background showed the face of a terrifyingly creepy clown.

  Perfect. Copy, paste, send.

  Spencer leaned into the aisle a little and saw a message appear on Cam’s screen. Cam clicked on it. After a few moments, he yelped and gave a little jump in his seat.

  The text message came, FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE.

  Spencer had a good long laugh.

  13

  When Pete had showed up unannounced, Maggie’d almost crapped her pants. She’d felt some embarrassment at Pete’s behavior, but mostly it was guilt that was weighing her down. Guilt about her kissing fantasy, being embarrassed about her own boyfriend, but most of all that she was not happy at all to see Pete, even though he’d been gone for the past two weeks. She’d even lied about having her period to avoid welcome-home sex.

  She was a horrible, horrible person.

  She needed to face the fact that she and Pete weren’t going to work out. He didn’t excite her. Granted, he was not a glamorous hockey player, but even before she’d actually met Spencer, Pete had not registered too high on the sexual arousal meter. The sex had been a
dequate, but nothing particularly inspiring. She’d only come a couple of times, and only with lots of concentration. She’d known deep down for a long time, but had been too lazy to put an end to it. Dreading phone calls from one’s boyfriend was not a good sign.

  She planned to break up with him tonight, provided she could work up the courage. She truly wasn’t sure if he was as bored as she was—hell, he told her he watched porn whenever he could. So, maybe. Still, he called her regularly when he was on the road, brought her little presents, like chocolate bars and magazines from whichever of the stores he was visiting that trip.

  He really was a decent guy, just not the right guy.

  Jade texted her after recess that she’d ordered pizza to be delivered and that they were eating it in her classroom. Her tone indicated that refusals would not be tolerated. After getting a couple of bottled iced teas from the mini-fridge Jade kept in her room, they sat at the kidney-shaped reading table. Even though Maggie hadn’t intended to tell her everything, Jade had a way of coaxing stuff out of her, like a high-priced downtown therapist. Before she knew it, Maggie was even telling her she had thrown tampon wrappers in the bathroom trash bin to lend credence to her lie.

  Jade scoffed. “Been there, done that. Even put the tampon in and let the string hang out my panties.”

  Maggie recoiled. “Jeez, Jade. TMI. Seriously.”

  “You started it.”

  Maggie took one last bite of pizza and put down the remaining bit of crust. “What should I say to him?”

  “Shit, I don’t know. Let’s ask the Siri. ‘Siri, how do I break up with someone?’”

  Together they scanned the article Siri recommended on “How to Dump Someone.” Despite its unfeeling title, there was some great advice. Don’t stall. Do it in private, and face-to-face. Be short, swift and direct. Don’t blame them. Be prepared for hurtful comments.

  Maggie nodded. “Okay, I can do all that, I think.”

  “Are you going to do it tonight?”

  “I think so. We’re supposed to watch a movie at his house. He was supplying the beer and I was going to bring a pizza.”

  She looked at the Mamma Mia’s box and Jade winced. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay.” Maggie started cleaning up. “If I do everything the article says, I won’t be there to eat it anyway.”

  Before heading to Pete’s, Maggie went to Spencer’s house to take Kirby for a walk. They both needed the exercise. But when she opened the door, she found the dog sitter standing there.

  “Hi. I’m Stacy, Spencer’s neighbor. You must be Kirby’s owner.”

  “Maggie. Yes. Good to meet you. I was just coming to take him for a walk, if it’s okay.”

  Stacy shrugged. “I guess it’s okay. I mean, he gave you a key and everything.”

  Maggie went into the kitchen and saw a foil-covered dish on the counter and a notecard, open and partially written on. Maggie would have read it, but Stacy was right on her heels.

  “Oh, what’s that?” Maggie asked.

  Stacy finished writing on the card and for a second there Maggie thought she was going to ignore the question, but eventually she lifted her head as she licked the envelope. “It’s vegan mac and cheese.” She went to the fridge, opened it, and put the food inside. “Spencer loves my cooking. He says I’m the most creative cook he knows.”

  Does he? Maggie thought as she watched Stacy take a sports drink from the refrigerator, open it up and sip from it. She seemed very comfortable helping herself.

  “I usually whip up something for him so when he comes home from a road trip, he can have a home-cooked meal.”

  From the look of it, she meant for him to eat hearty for at least a week.

  “That’s really nice of you.” Maggie hugged Kirby and gave Lulu an affectionate rub as well.

  “Yeah, Spencer and I have known each other for three years now. Ever since he moved in.”

  “Nice.”

  “He’s such a good friend. Whenever one of us needs something, the other is right there to help.”

  “Good to know.” Maggie hooked Kirby’s leash to his collar. “So, great to meet you. I’m going to walk the dog.”

  Stacy waved and smiled.

  An hour later, with the large pizza box propped on her hip, Maggie rang Pete’s doorbell.

  Don’t stall. Be short, swift, and direct.

  “Hey, babe,” Pete said. “Is it pepperoni?”

  “Of course,” she said as he took the box from her. Even though she preferred sausage and olives, they always got pepperoni.

  She followed him to the kitchen where he opened the fridge.

  “You want a beer?”

  Shaking her head, she put her purse on the counter. Do it. Do it now, Maggie.

  “I…I need to talk to you about something.” Her hands were shaking, so she clasped them together.

  “Sure, babe. What’s on your mind?” He twisted the top off his beer and took a swig.

  “I’m really sorry, but…I’m breaking up with you.” Shit. She’d prepared some other stuff, reasons why it wasn’t working, but at the moment, her mind was blank.

  After a short pause, Pete said, “You and that hockey player have a thing going? Is that it? Are you dumping me for him?”

  She flushed. “No. We do not have a thing going. I just…I need more.”

  “Okay. Me too actually. To tell you the truth, I’ve been playing the field a little. You know how it is. A man’s got needs and I’m on the road so much. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “You cheated on me?”

  “We never actually said we were going to be exclusive.”

  “But it was assumed.”

  He took a sip of his beer and didn’t look as apologetic as she would have expected. “Believe me, if you’d been around, I’d have slept with you.”

  Maggie blinked. “Nice to know I was your first choice.” When her sarcasm seemed to soar over his head, she said, “Well then, I guess it’s over.

  “I guess so.”

  She stood there for an awkward moment then said, “Enjoy the pizza.”

  “Thanks.”

  Finally getting a hold of herself, she walked to his front door, opened it and left. That hadn’t been how she’d pictured it going at all. She’d thought he might object or be surprised at least. To tell the truth, she began feeling insulted. And angry. He’d cheated on her? For how long? With how many women? She wanted to go back in there and interrogate him, but ended up getting into her car and fuming. Thank God that even though her particular type of birth control was one-hundred percent reliable, they’d used condoms.

  She might be a horrible person who cheated in her head, but he cheated in real life, multiple times. She recoiled as she thought about the many weeks he’d been out of town. When he’d called her from his hotel room, was it only because he couldn’t find a hook-up in the bar? Was phone sex with her his backup? The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Were there times when he’d fucked some stranger and come home to her the very next day? And were they strangers? Maybe not. Maybe he had a string of honeys in every city in his region.

  As she drove away, she realized she was still hungry, so she went back to the pizza place and when they asked if she wanted pepperoni, she said, “Hell no. Give me sausage and olives.”

  14

  Armed with a few basic tools he thought he might need to build the dog house, Spencer knocked on Stacy’s door. He really didn’t want to be here, but she never let him pay her for taking care of his dogs, so he owed it to her.

  “Spencer! Thanks so much for coming.” She hugged him and her cloud of perfume enveloped him like an expensive, cloying fog.

  “No problem. I don’t have a lot of time though, so let’s get to it.”

  “Oh, you brought your own tools. Good. I wouldn’t know where my screwdriver was if you gave me a map.”

  She led him to the backyard to show hi
m where she wanted the dog house to end up. It was spacious with a lot of lawn and a good deal of dog shit as well.

  “Sorry about the poop. My gardener isn’t very good at picking it up.”

  When he saw the unopened box and the picture on the outside of it, he realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought. The dog house had an outside staircase and a rooftop fucking patio. He had to admit, it was pretty cool.

  “So, let’s do this!” She was wearing her normal tight jeans and a sweater and apparently no bra. He couldn’t help but notice her nipples, front and center, and how her large breasts swung freely.

  He ripped the box open and they laid out all the parts. Normally, he might just start building the sucker without looking at the directions. He was a man, after all. He liked to think he was intuitively good at this type of thing, but he had a bunch of shit to autograph and a video clip to film at the rink later and he didn’t want to have to take something apart because he’d unknowingly skipped a step.

  Stacy stood next to him reading over his shoulder, a little too close for his comfort. She’d always had a sense of personal space that was different from his. He eased away as casually as he could. “Okay, I think the best plan of action is for you to look at the directions and figure out what I’m going to need next. It’ll be like I’m the surgeon and you’re handing me the scalpel or whatever. Make sense?”

  “That makes perfect sense.”

  The plan might have worked, except Stacy couldn’t seem to be able to follow the directions. He’d need Panel A and she’d hand him Panel E. He wondered if she was really that inept or if she was pretending. The constant giggling didn’t help. It started getting on his nerves.

  “So, I met Kirby’s owner,” Stacy said. “She seems nice.”

  “She sure is. I keep expecting her to call and say she changed her mind and she wants Kirby back.”

  Stacy didn’t say anything for a while, and Spencer didn’t encourage her. He was able to connect three of the walls together before she spoke again.