Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I laugh, which eases up my tension even more. “Oh, yeah. For sure.”
“I’m not going to lie, though. I don’t exactly understand it. I won’t pretend to. Do you mind if I ask what you like about it?”
“I’m not that sure yet. I’ve just started looking into it. I was watching this video on YouTube the other day. There were these interviews with a bunch of guys who were into it. All sorts of people do it. Doctors, photographers, accountants. Anybody, really.”
Frankie smirks as though he’s amused that I’m stating the obvious.
“Well, they were talking about what a good way it is to shake off their human stresses in their day-to-day lives. Get back to those aspects of themselves like playfulness and compassion and affection. That all sounded nice to me.”
“Show me this video.” I can tell by the way Frankie says it, it’s because he’s interested in knowing more.
This wave of relief washes through me as I feel the shame and guilt about being interested in this start to dissolve.
It reminds me of when I came out to my parents. Well, except Frankie is actually being supportive and not trying to get me to sign up for ex-gay therapy.
I guide him to my bedroom, and he sits at my desk, my laptop in front of him.
As I pull up the video, I glance at Frankie, who offers a warm smile like he’s letting me know that he’s here for me.
I sit on the desktop, the way I usually do when I’m showing him a video clip of something I’ve found online, although usually it’s a hilarious comedy sketch that I can’t stop laughing at or the latest Halsey music video.
As the video plays, Frankie is quiet. He bites his lip and narrows his eyes like he’s trying to process what the guys in the clip are describing about their experiences and everything that they feel puppy play has done for them.
It’s a short clip, but I feel like it’s a good introduction for him, and when it ends, his expression doesn’t change.
“You think it’s weird, don’t you?” I say quickly.
He takes a breath before turning to me. “It was kind of cool, actually. A lot of these guys were just talking about playing with other dogs and kind of having fun. You know Bentley Friggs?”
“Yeah.”
“This is going to sound strange, but he does this sort of cosplay thing where he dresses up as an elf. I helped him get into costume one time for a big…war…evidently.”
“What?”
“He meets up with a bunch of guys who pretend they’re elves and wizards and fairies and they all have these battles out in the park. But he loves this stuff, and he says it helps him destress from work so much—even better than when he tried yoga. So, I can see this is kind of the same thing. Or am I way off base?”
He glances around uneasily as though he’s trying to figure out if he might be totally thinking about this in the wrong way. I laugh, enjoying that I’m not the only one who feels crazy right now.
“Yeah, like role play,” I say.
He bites his bottom lip again. “But you weren’t wearing a hood tonight.”
“It’s in my bag,” I confess. I slide it off my shoulder onto the desk beside him.
“You own one?” Again, his question isn’t judgmental. He’s curious. He’s almost asking the way he might if I had said I’d bought some sort of kinky sex toy.
“I bought it at the shop the other day. I brought it with me, but Z said I didn’t have to wear it the first time if I wasn’t comfortable. He was just encouraging me to meet some pups and figure out what it was all about. I didn’t have the balls to put it on.”
His gaze is on the bag as though the hood is going to pop out at him at any moment.
“You mind if I see it?” he asks.
I blush before unzipping the bag and retrieving it.
I start to hand it to him when he says, “I’d rather see you in it if you don’t mind.”
I chuckle. “I feel kind of dumb about it.”
He leans toward me. “There’s nothing for you to feel dumb about, Ev. If this is something you’re interested in, you owe it to yourself to explore it. There’s nothing wrong with this any more than there’s anything wrong with you being gay. I hope you know that.”
He’s right. Frankie’s always right. And as always, his compassion and understanding open me right up.
I glance at the hood for a moment before convincing myself that if I can’t do this in front of Frankie, then who the fuck can I do it in front of?
I hop onto the floor and stand in front of him, putting it on the way I did with Z in the leather shop.