Chapter 12 #4
“But you don’t just take pictures of someone without them knowing and then post them to an account with over fifteen thousand followers, even if they’re good pictures,” she says.
“Really?” I shrug. “Because it happens to me all the time.” If I had a dollar for every time someone took a picture of me at a mountain or at a bar, then posted it online tagging me in it, I swear I’d probably be a millionaire.
I know it goes with the territory, especially when I’m in Europe, where I am even better known for my snowboarding than I am here in the US.
It’s just a part of my life that I have no control over, and I guess I didn’t stop to think about the fact that Sierra’s life isn’t like that.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it okay.”
“You’re right. I’m so used to my entire life being posted online that I didn’t stop to think that you might not want that.
If it makes you feel any better, I have very intentionally not tagged either one of us in any of the posts.
I think it’s better if we remain anonymous on Winston’s account, don’t you? ”
“Yes, but just because you didn’t tag me as Sierra Lemieux doesn’t mean that I want my picture posted. Notice I asked you before posting your picture.”
“Want me to take them down?” I ask as I swipe over to the app.
She pulls one side of her lower lip between her teeth as she looks at the pictures. “No, I guess it’s fine. I mean, engagement is high, so that can only be good for Winston. Just ask next time, okay?”
I hear her, but I can’t respond because I’m too busy reading the comments. Oh shit. She must see something in my face, because she asks me what’s wrong.
“Have you read the comments?” I ask.
“Only one or two.”
“Keep going.”
We sit there reading with the sound of the wind howling outside and the icy snow lashing against the building as our background music.
Oh wow, your foster mom is as hot as your foster dad. Lucky puppy!
With genes like that, these two should have a baby, not a dog.
Holy shit—he brings the hotness and she brings the sweetness.
The comments about Sierra and me and our couple status and our looks are pretty consistently sprinkled in among comments about Winston being an adorable puppy.
“Well, clearly they don’t know we’re just roommates,” she says, but she isn’t looking at me. Are her cheeks flushed?
“I guess I see why everyone is jumping to that conclusion, given that we obviously live together.”
“Set them straight,” she says, and her eyes meet mine. Yep, her cheeks are distinctly pink, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen in a while.
“Why me?” I ask out of curiosity, not because I’m unwilling.
“Because you’re the one who created this confusion, not me.”
“Fine,” I say, and I get up from my chair. I walk over to where Winston is sleeping cuddled up on the couch next to her, and I squat down to get a closeup of his mushy brown puppy face.
“Oh my God,” she says, we’ve gained another thousand followers since I checked last night. “We’re actually at sixteen thousand now.”
“Because we’re hot puppy parents, obviously,” I say, looking over at her and winking. She’s closer than I realized and I’m flooded with the awareness of her proximity: a tingling sensation moves up my spine, over my shoulders, and across my chest. It’s all I can do not to shudder.
I post the picture I took of Winston with the caption Hello and welcome!
I’m Winston, and I’m an eight week old chocolate lab.
Since we’re all new here, I just want to clarify that these two humans who keep posting pictures of me aren’t together, they’re just roommates.
But they’re glad you’re following my story and hope that you’ll help me find my forever home!
I hold my phone out to Sierra to read, and she glances up when she’s done. I’m pretty sure her eyes are watery, but she says “It’s perfect” and looks away so quickly I can’t be sure.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out and touching her chin with my fingertips, pressing gently to see if she’ll willingly turn back to me. “What’s wrong?”
She looks over at me and I was right, her eyes are filled with unshed tears. I want to wrap her in my arms and figure out how to make this better.
“Nothing. Honestly. I’m just emotional.”
“Does this happen a lot?” I ask.
“Have you really never spent more than forty-eight hours with a woman?” she asks, but she smiles and I feel a little relief at that.
“I mean, forty-eight hours might be a stretch. So educate me. Does this happen a lot?”
Her eyes search my face, like she can impart an understanding with a look. “Beau . . .” she says, but she’s cut off my the shrill ringing of her phone. She looks mildly worried when she says, “It’s my sister.”
I see Sydney’s name flashing on her screen. “You better get that then.”
For a second she looks torn, eyeing her phone like it might be a bomb before she answers it.
She listens for about half a second, then screeches, “You’re doing what?
” She stands so abruptly Winston wakes up startled and nips at her foot as she jumps off the couch.
She runs to her room and slams the door behind her, and Winston and I look at each other, neither of us quite sure what just happened.