Page 83 of The Sasquatch and the Hairdresser

It’s like he’s reading my mind.

Elvira interrupts the moment by snoring so loudly from her dog bed in the corner that she startles herself awake.

Skylar and I look at her and then each other before we burst out laughing.

Our romantic moment fizzles a little, and we both realize it’s getting late. By mutual agreement, we decide to head to bed. Outside Skylar’s bedroom, we hug one another, taking our time.

“You give the best fucking hugs,” Skylar mumbles into the apron over my chest.

“Thank you, but you’re no slouch either. You’re a kissing genius.”

He laughs. “I don’t know about that. Maybe you just inspire me.”

“So you liked the kissing too?” I ask hopefully.

He gives me a slow and devastatingly handsome grin. “You bet your ass I did.”

Swoon!

We say our good nights, and I practically float to my room with Elvira prancing along at my side.

Lying under the covers, Little Ms. Elvira curled into my side, I replay my first kiss over and over again in my mind and try to figure out when is too soon to tell Skylar I’m madly in love with him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dear Journal (NOT a fucking diary!),

Okay, today this maybe feels like a diary because I’m gonna gush about the fact that Hal kissed me.

Wait, let me back up. First, he gave me flowers from his garden that he had magically preserved so they’ll last longer than usual. Then he took me out for dinner—hibachi, one of my fucking faves!—and we had a great time.

The only slightly shitty thing was when his sister called and poked at him about going back to the Pacific Northwest. Hal was real firm in letting her know he plans to stay here though—with me. I just about melted right there. I don’t know how to describe it any other way. Hal just has that effect on me. Then he bought a book on interspecies dating for us to read together. It’s like he’s showing me in dozens of little ways that he’s committed to being with me. I’m trying to listen to my heart and not my fucking head, which is still real messed up after Damien.

But back to the kissing. Hal’s so fucking sweet! I want to keep him all to myself sometimes. He totally planned the whole thing, turned the living room into our own little dance floor and lit candles, put on some music, and danced with me. Not like that grinding shit in the clubs. It was more like something out of those old black-and-white movies my grandma loved. Of course I didn’t really know my ass from my elbow when it came to those fancy moves, but Hal helped keep it simple. And, fun fact, I discovered I love slow dancing with him.

I also learned I fucking love kissing him.

It was a real powerful kind of moment, for me anyway. I showed him my tattoos and talked a bit about them. That’s not something I’ve shared with a lot of people. I even let him touch my chest and neck—and it felt good. I wasn’t sure it would, but I shouldn’t have doubted Hal. There’s something magical about him, I swear. Everything we do together is always fucking amazing and oh so right.

Even though I could tell he didn’t have a lot of experience with kissing, that just made the whole thing even more damn precious. He was a little awkward, but entirely earnest, and that meant so much more than any other kiss I’ve had in my life. There was none of the usual pressure to get naked and move on to the main act. Instead, we took our time and savored making out like middle schoolers doing it for the first time.

And I can’t wait to do it again. Soon.

—Skylar Wright’s Personal Journal

Late October…

Skylar

When we get to the park for our long-awaited doggy playdate, Elvira’s secured in her harness and eager to explore the green space. It isn’t long until we see Max being dragged toward us by an enormous hellhound that makes all kinds of excited whimpering noises the second he spots us.

The two hellhounds immediately start sniffing one another as soon as they get up close and personal. Six wagging tails is a sight to behold, let me tell you. Once we decide they’re friendly with one another, we let them off leash and they start chasing each other around the mostly empty park.

Max beams at us. “Thanks for agreeing to this little meetup. Waffles could really use a friend to play with who won’t get trampled under his enormous feet.”

“It looks like he and Elvira are already fast pals,” Hal observes, watching the two hellhounds roll around and wrestle a few yards away.

“What do you think, baby girl?” Max asks Princess Peach, who’s once again perched regally in the crook of his arm. Today, she’s wearing a pink shirt with the word QUEEN spelled out in silver sequins.