Mr.Wrong
The terrace was separated from Owen’s by a row of tall potted plants, giving each of us a semblance of privacy.
“Let’s get you back to your human,” I said, crouching down to G****e’s level.
He tilted his head, as if understanding me, but when I reached for his collar, he darted just out of reach, his tongue lolling happily.
“G****e, come on,” I said, exasperated.
I was still trying to catch him when the glass door to Owen’s terrace slid open. I straightened up, a smile spreading on my face as I spotted Owen stepping out, looking as effortlessly handsome as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans.
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