Read Online My Boyfriends' Dogs by Dandi Daley Mackall - Free Book Online Page B

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    â€œWe better get back,” Tahlia said. “See you around.” This she said directly to my boyfriend.
    Went and I moved on and explored the recesses of the Larkfield Zoo. Everything was fun with Went. I felt like I’d never seen camels before Went and I saw them together. Or monkeys or elephants. He made everything better.
    But wherever we went, the Tahlia scene was repeated, only with different players. By the monkey cages, Went ran into someone named Cheri, who acted like she and Went were long-lost friends. A backpacker with one long braid down her back struck up a conversation with my boyfriend while we were waiting for the lions to come out of their cave, and the girl had never met Went before. There was a freshman from Millet at the elks’ pen, a sophomore from Larkfield at the picnic tables, and a perky zoo worker at the petting zoo.
    The afternoon grew hotter, so we ducked into the reptile house to cool off. An older man was there, talking to a pack of Boy Scouts and giving anecdotes about the reptiles. Went and I tagged along and listened to the life cycle of the rattlesnake and the mating habits of the cobra.
    Then we came to the geckos. “Now, this is a Madagascar day gecko,” the old man explained. “Unlike other types of geckos, the Madagascar day gecko mates for life. If his wife dies, like this guy’s here did, the poor fellow wanders around for the rest of his life, a dejected widower. He’s a one-woman gecko.”
    I moved in closer so I could see this loyal, loving gecko. It was a light green lizard, with reddish-brown spots that made a thin line down his back. He didn’t have eyelids, so his eyes looked sad and surprised, like he was constantly searching for his dead wife and horribly surprised when he couldn’t find her. If I’d run across this poor gecko out in the free world, I would have scooped him up and taken him home with me.
    We followed our Boy Scout troop back to the snakes and listened to our guide tell tales of the poisonous cottonmouths. When the group moved away from the water moccasins, Went slipped his arm around me and drew me with him around the corner and into a dark recess where we were by ourselves.
    I looked up at him, his face a shadow. “What are you—?”
    He held his finger to his lips. “Shh-hh.” Then he touched my lips with his finger and moved in closer. We faced each other, and Went smoothed my hair, his hands tracing the line of my scalp, then moving to my neck, then my shoulders. My whole body trembled as his fingers trailed down my arms. His arms closed around me, wrapping me in himself. I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t. Slowly, he lowered his head until our lips were touching. He kissed me, like he’d done several times before. Only this time, he kept kissing me, his lips pressing harder, moving against mine. And then tongue. Lots of tongue. At first, I didn’t get it. But then I did. I really did. And his hands. I wasn’t sure how you score it, but I think I was being taken to second base.
    When we stopped, Went was grinning.
    I was glad it was dark in our little nook. I must have looked like a gecko caught in the headlights. A Madagascar day gecko, a one-man gecko who had found her man.

10
    â€œI adore geckos.” I was curled on my bed at midnight, recounting to Mom my zoo day with Went.
    Mom had brewed herb tea for us and brought it to my room. She sat cross-legged on the foot of my bed. “Geckos. So you’ve said.”
    â€œDid I tell you they mate for life?”
    â€œYou did.” She sipped her tea. “You really like Went, don’t you, honey?”
    I thought about Went, his strong arms pulling me to him. His smile. His kiss. “Mom, I think I love him.”
    Mom choked on her tea, spilling some on my bedspread. She dabbed at it with the hem of her nightgown. “Bailey . . .”
    Mom and I had always been able to talk about