Read Winter Wishes (The Play #1.5) for Free Online Page B

record time and end up in the shower together. I can hear Emily pawing at the door, something she does whenever the both of us are in here.
    “You know,” he says as he slides the shower puff down my arms, brow furrowed in concentration. “If you don’t get the newspaper job…” I stiffen and he pauses, looking me in the eye. “I said ‘if.’ If you don’t, you know you always have a job at Ruff Love.”
    I sigh, closing my eyes. Ever since I came back to Edinburgh, hoping to find a job, Lachlan has been offering me a position at his animal shelter. And I know, I know it’s stupid that I don’t just accept it. I guess it’s just my stubborn pride that keeps winning out. I don’t want to feel like I owe him anything, and even though the position would be legitimate, it’s a bit weird to have your boyfriend paying your salary.
    “I know you don’t want to,” he says softly, “but Amara needs the help. We’re taking in more dogs all the time and we could make such a bigger difference if we had two of you on board. You wouldn’t just be doing admin work, you’d be doing so much more and I know you’d be so good at it.” He pauses, licking his lips as the water runs down his face. “It doesn’t have to be the only job you do. And I’m not offering it to you because I’m in love with you. I’m offering it because I think it would make you happy.”
    It’s funny. When I first visited the shelter, I thought there was no way that I could work there. Seeing all those sweet, abandoned dogs day in and day out, knowing that some of them would have to be put down in the end, that they would never find their forever homes, was heartbreaking. But after I went back a few times and really got to know Amara, the girl that runs it for Lachlan, I saw the hope in it all. The difference Lachlan’s love, his organization, was making.
    “I’ll think about it,” I tell him, as I always tell him. “I just really want to make it on my own, you know?”
    “I know.”
    The only problem is, I’m trying to make it here by getting into the writing business. I built up a pretty good portfolio back in San Francisco. And I know the jobs aren’t easy to come by, especially when I’m not a resident here, and if anything I’ll end up freelancing. But if I could just get this job writing for the free daily newspaper, 24 Hours, it would not only provide me with something steady and (hopefully) permanent, but I’d feel like I accomplished something. Quitting my job at the Bay Area Weekly was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, though it had to be done. I just don’t want to regress backward.
    After I’m sparkling clean without an ounce of cum or tinsel on me, we get dressed and pile into Lachlan’s Range Rover, heading to his gym.
    I’ve seen a lot of boxing movies so I thought I knew what to expect. You know, a seedy, dark warehouse-type setting with lots of greasy, angry guys wearing hoodies and punching a speedbag while trainers yell at them and call them names, impromptu matches in the ring that ends up with someone being knocked out, countless taunts and insults. The usual.
    But that wasn’t the case here. Yes, it’s in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, but inside I’m surprised to find it bright and airy. There aren’t many people about, just a couple sparring in one area while another grapples with each other on a wide mat, like a mild version of UFC.
    “So this is where the magic happens,” I say to Lachlan.
    He grunts something in return while shooting me a humble smile. I know he likes to downplay himself but he’s been boxing for quite a while now and knowing the way he throws himself into something 100 per cent, he’s going to be good.
    And he is.
    I sit down on a bench while his trainer, Jake, comes out and introduces himself to me. I think I was expecting Ernest Borgnine, you know, fat and old, ready for Rocky, maybe even Nick Nolte. But he’s younger than both of us, very Scottish and