All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)(8)




Since Nana had taken my only outfit with her and I had no other alternatives, I was stuck with the Italian Gigolo collection. I picked up a pair of underwear and actually blushed. My grandmother had bought me sheer, tiny, black briefs. Wow, no. I rejected them in favor of an equally tiny red pair, which at least were opaque, and shimmied into them. I then tore the tag from a black t-shirt and stuffed myself into it. The shirt fit like a sausage casing. I debated between the leather pants and the short-shorts, and finally settled on the pants so my butt wouldn’t be on full display. “I stand corrected,” I murmured when I finally got the tight pants on and pivoted to look at myself from all angles in the full-length mirror. I then searched for my shoes, which turned out to be under the bed. Reaching them was super awkward since I couldn’t really bend my legs, and I ended up flinging myself on the floor and sort of rolling after them. It took me another couple minutes to stand up again.

I looked in the mirror once more and raised an eyebrow at my reflection. I didn’t think it was possible to look any less like myself. I finger-combed my damp hair, then searched for my wallet so I could go and buy myself something more modest. But I soon realized my wallet had been in my pants pocket, and it had been whisked away with everything else.

I tried to call both Nana and Jessie. Their phones went straight to voicemail, so I left messages asking them to bring back my wallet. Fortunately, I had a few euro in my backpack and was in desperate need of coffee, so I resigned myself to being seen in public in that outfit. After I took out a few things I wouldn’t be needing, I slung the pack over my shoulder. It actually required a bit of effort to work my thin, plastic room key into the pocket of those incredibly tight pants.

The leather made noise when I walked, something like reek, reek, reek. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I was stiff-legged and walking a bit like a robot. The sound was so loud that people in the lobby turned to look at me. All I could do was hold my head up and own it, even though I was mortified.

I left the hotel, crossed the plaza, and bought myself a cappuccino at the café, reducing my current net worth by fifty percent. Since it was a beautiful day, I decided to sit outside. A dozen little metal tables were arranged beneath a wooden pergola, and I settled in at the one closest to the fountain with my legs sticking straight out.

Even though I’d told my grandmother I wasn’t going to study, I decided to sneak in a little research to get a jump on a term project for the following semester and fired up my laptop. It was challenging to focus on the dry legal document on my screen, and I kept glancing up at the activity in the town square. Tourists meandered around and posed for pictures at the fountain while locals went about their business. A couple dogs were wandering through the piazza, and soon a few more joined them. While it was common to see dogs off-leash in Viladembursa, it started to seem like they were forming a pack. Some were probably strays, but the rest looked like pets. I spotted a big poodle and a dachshund in the mix.



I soon became aware of a strong smell in the air. Apparently someone was cooking bacon, and lots of it. I glanced around but couldn’t spot the source of the aroma, so I went back to trying to concentrate on my computer screen.

That lasted about three seconds before an incredibly good-looking guy caught my eye. He was absolutely flawless, from the dark, expensive suit that had obviously been custom-made to hug every inch of his tall, muscular body, to his thick, black hair and sexy five o’clock shadow. Mercy.

He was reading something on his phone, so he didn’t notice me staring. After a moment, I realized he was the same man who’d stood at the fountain early that morning, potentially speaking to the statues. That made me grin. He walked right past me on his way into the café, without glancing up from his phone. I pivoted in my seat and took in the rear-view, just because it was too tempting not to. When I swung back around, I caught the disapproving glare of a woman at the next table. I frowned and turned my attention back to the computer screen.

The bacon scent was stronger than ever. I leaned in and sniffed my laptop, and suddenly realized that was the source of the smell. When I picked it up and tilted it to look underneath, a stream of lube drizzled onto my pants. Apparently a fair amount had gotten into the vents on the bottom of the computer, and as the PC heated up, it both intensified the odor and liquefied the lubricant.

I was startled when a little brown dog jumped up on his hind legs and put his front paws on my knee. “Hi there, puppy. You need to get down,” I told him, gently trying to lift him off me.

In the next instant, I was swarmed by about a dozen dogs. I yelped and leapt up, grabbing my computer and backpack and trying to hold them over my head, out of dog range. All of them were way too interested in my bacon-scented leather pants. The big poodle grabbed my pant leg and started tugging, and I shoved my laptop into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder to free up my hands. I tried to pull the poodle off me by his collar, but that didn’t deter him in the slightest. “No! Down! Sit!” I yelled as the dogs almost knocked me over. It didn’t help.


In a moment of panic, I scrambled awkwardly onto the table. The larger animals could still reach me easily, including the white poodle, and two dogs grabbed my cuffs with their teeth and started to tug, as if I was a wishbone. “No! Bad dog,” I yelled. That, of course, did absolutely nothing.

I grabbed the edge of the pergola and tried to hoist myself up, but the dogs were determined to pull me back down so they could eat my pants. Both my loafers fell off at about the same time, and immediately became doggie chew toys. I hung from the pergola with one hand, and used my other to unbutton the pants and pull down the zipper. As soon as I did that, the poodle and his cohort shucked the pants right off me.

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