Danielle and I had grown much closer since the moment under the lemon tree. We’d spent more time together and reminisced about the past, and as funny as that sounded, in the few weeks we’d been back in each other’s lives, it was as if the seventeen years spent apart had never happened.
She’d stayed over with Pugly another two times, and I was starting to get used to the little turd-dropping, four-legged, furry Redbull. He was growing on me, as much as Pugly could. I think he was getting used to my place as well, because he’d stopped using my shower as a toilet and was using the dog mats sporadically placed around the apartment instead. It was a steppingstone in the right direction for Pugly and I … provided I didn’t step on the mats when I wasn’t looking where I was walking.
Which happened every now and again.
Danielle and I had been dating. Well, in my eyes, we had. We’d been ice skating at the nearby rink, gone out for dinner, seen a movie, and walked from one end of the city to the other hand in hand, just talking about life and all the things we’d experienced since being apart.
I learned that she finished high school and had plans to study Business Operations so that she could follow her dream and open her own clothing store, but that she never chased that dream because she haphazardly landed the job she currently had and absolutely loved it. She’d always been a passionate Essendon Bombers football club supporter, and she adored retail, so I guess working with both really was a dream come true for her.
During our city walk that cool winter’s night, her button nose pink, her scarf of the same colour wrapped tightly around her neck, she’d explained how she’d become friends with Chris, having met him shortly after he’d been traded to the team when he’d stumbled into the store one Sunday morning, shirtless and without his wallet. Apparently, he’d been out the night before and had ended up at some random girl’s house — which just so happened to be around the corner — and instead of waking up the poor girl who was sleeping in his shirt, he’d just skipped out on her and escaped to the sanctity of the club, or more accurately the club’s store, so that he could get a new shirt and call one of his teammates to pick him up.
The story made me laugh — it seemed fitting — but what also made me laugh was the fact that Danielle and Chris became roommates as a result so that she could keep him out of trouble and he could keep her fed. She said he was akin to her own personal Gordon Ramsey, but instead of him getting into trouble out of anger, he found strife from being too damn horny instead.
Hearing that, rang alarm bells, because I sure as hell didn’t want any horny fucker around Danielle, let alone living under the same roof as her. But when she assured me that he was one of the best friends she’d ever had, my unease lifted. After all, I knew her stance on fucking her friends.
Boy, did I ever.
Deep down in the confines of my heart, I hoped that stance would change where I was concerned. In fact, I already felt things beginning to shift for the two of us. We couldn’t keep our hands off one another for starters, regardless of whether anyone was watching. Handholding. Hugs. A lingering kiss. Nothing like that first night when she stayed over, but the chemistry was certainly there, bubbling under the surface ready to explode.
A bit like my cock.
And speaking of exploding cocks, I was almost sure we were about to witness something extraordinary at the lion enclosure at Melbourne Zoo — our fourth, or was it fifth, date.
“Lots!” Danielle exclaimed, her fingers tightly clenched around my arm. “Are they? … Is that? … Oh shit, they are! They’re going to mate.” She let go of my arm and pressed herself against the enclosure glass like a perverted starfish. “Ohhh! This is exciting! I’ve never seen lions go at it before.”
I couldn’t help but scan the length of her from behind: tight jeans hugging her tiny legs and perky arse, white Converse runners, and fitted flannel shirt. Cute and incredibly sexy; perfectly Danielle.
“You’re a little kinky,” I said, raising my eyebrow. “I like it.”
She quickly glanced over her shoulder and fired me a playful glare. “I’m just curious.” She turned back to face the lions. “Ooooh … did he just bite her head? Wow! This is hot.”
I laughed and stepped up beside her, albeit refraining from mashing my face against the glass.
“Has he even found her hole yet? I mean, it looks like he’s just rubbing his lion dick all over her lioness back.”
“He will.” I smiled in anticipation, having seen a documentary on lions previously, which included mating rituals, so I knew what to expect.
“She’s biting him back! Yes! Bite him back, girl. Bite. Him. Back.”
The male lion growled and tensed, and the female growled in response then rolled onto her back, her jaws ferociously snapping in his direction. Danielle’s eyes were wide. Anticipatory. Until she noticed both lions lie down and appear to take a nap.
“That’s it?” she asked, turning to face me as if I knew the answer, of which I did.
“Yeah, pretty much. They might do that again, a couple of times.”
“Nooooo! What an anticlimax.”
“For you or the lioness?”
She attempted her signature arm whack, but I jumped out of reach just in time. “Maybe you need to watch antechinus mate. I’m guessing you wouldn’t be disappointed with the male’s efforts.”
“Why’s that?” she asked, as we made our way toward the giraffes and zebras. “And what the hell is an antineckee what?”
“It’s a marsupial. And you’ll be impressed because he’ll go at it for up to fourteen hours then die of exhaustion.”
Danielle laughed. “He’ll fuck himself to death?”
“Yeah. Poor little dude. Talk about dedication to the job.”
She kept laughing, and the sound filled me with so much happiness that if I had fairy dust, I could’ve flown to fucking Neverland. It was the only sound I ever wanted to hear.
“You’re evil, Danielle Cunningham. Where’s your respect for the unfortunate root rat?”
“I have none. Well, not for an animal that literally screws itself over.”
This time, I couldn’t help but laugh. She had a point.
“Now,” she said, pointing directly ahead of us. “I have respect for this giant of the animal kingdom.” We stopped in front of the wooden barrier fence enclosing three uninterested giraffes. “Because they choose their mate after inciting a ‘necking’ war. It’s hilarious.”
“Actually, it’s a little more involved than that.”
She turned to face me, a look in her eye I couldn’t quite make out— sexy and somewhat curious. “Why am I not surprised you know how giraffes mate as well?”
I shrugged and pinched one of her hot chips when she handed me the bucket to hold. “Let’s just say male giraffe don’t mind the odd golden shower.”
Danielle nearly spat the water she’d just swigged from her bottle. “What?”
“Yep. Afraid so.”
She blinked and waited for an explanation, so I elaborated for her. “The female urinates into the male’s mouth, if she’s fertile, he’ll taste it and want to mate. She’ll either be all for it or want him to prove his worth by necking other males that may want her too.”
“That’s gross. I’m not sure I respect them now.”
“Yeah, I suppose, if you’re not into that sort of thing.”
“Are you?”
I drew a quick circle with my fingertip on her neck. “Don’t know. Never tried it.”
She glanced down at my hand, bit her lip then stole back her chips, continuing to the next exhibit. “So, how is it that you know so much about animal sex?”
“National Geographic.”
“Why animals?”
“They fascinate me.”
“If they fascinate you so much then why aren’t you a zookeeper, like that guy.” She pointed to a dude wearing a pair of khaki shorts and Blundstone boots, walking in our direction.
“Because they look like dorks.”
Danielle laughed and poked a chip into my mouth. “You’re a dork.”
I munched it and mumbled, “Adorkable?”
“Meh.” She paused then skipped toward a giant tortoise. “How do these guys procreate? Something tells me with great difficulty … and not as fast as lions.” She rested her arms on the top of the fence. “I mean, that shell looks like a decent chastity belt. Maybe I should get one,” she said with a wink.
“Go ahead. The shell stops nothing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they mate just like the lions do.”
“Poor lady tortoise.” She crooked her head to the side, sizing one of them up. “He’d weigh a tonne.”
“Not quite. Roughly two hundred kilograms.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Any other tortoise facts I should know?”
“Tortoise? Not really. But, turtle? Yes. Did you know some species of turtle breathe through their arsehole?”
Danielle burst into laughter and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes gleaming utter mischief at me. “No, I didn’t know that, but I do now. That’s excellent! A respiratory rectum.”
“A colon cough.”
She lifted her finger. “Butt burp.”
“Ass of all trades.”
“Stop! I can’t.”
Again, her laughter filled my ears and heart, and she snorted, bending over while crossing her legs. “I’m gonna pee.”
“Shit!” I pretended to guard her with my body. “Watch out for those male giraffes.”
“Lots! I’m serious.” She snorted some more, tears finding their way onto her cheeks, and I soon found myself unable to hold back either.
A young couple pushing a pram strolled past, their curious smiles asking what the hell was so funny. I shook my head at them, as if to say I had no idea and that Danielle was a little crazy.
“Oh my God,” she wailed, gasping for a breathe. “If I laugh anymore I’m gonna be sick.”
“Well, at least I know you’re not a horse.”
“What?” her face contorted with confusion. “Besides the obvious, why not?”
“They can’t vomit.”
She breathed in and stood upright. “Of course they can.”
“Nope. Physically impossible.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’d never have to hold a horse’s mane back. They’d be great drinking buddies.”
She shook her head and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know, Lots. Sometimes I worry about you.”
“Don’t worry about me, worry about those lionesses.”
We were about to move toward the reptile house when an idea popped into my head. “Hey! Fancy riding a horse?”
“Huh?”
I grabbed her hand, my body buzzing with excitement. “Come with me.”
We hurried back through the centre of the grounds, the fresh spring sun’s mild rays perfectly beating down on us as we approached the iconic Melbourne Zoo Merry-Go-Round.
Her smile widened. “I haven’t been on this since I was a kid.”
“Me neither.”
I paid the ticket clerk for two tickets, and we waited for the ride to stop turning before choosing our horses and climbing on.
“Which one do you want?” I asked.
She screwed up her nose. “The brown ones are ugly. I’m choosing white. Mine looks like a unicorn.”
I chose a brown one. “White ones never win.”
“Win what?”
“The race.”
“It’s not a race, Lots.”
“Sure it is.”
The Merry-Go-Round cranked to life once again and started spinning, both Danielle and I simultaneously bobbing up and down with our horses’ movement.
“See? I’m winning.”
“You are not. I am.”
“NO, I AM!” some young boy behind us shouted.
We both glanced over our shoulders; he was probably no older the five.
“No, you’re not. You’re last,” I responded in my ‘ha-ha’ voice.
“Elliot!” Danielle scolded.
“What? He is. Clearly, he’s behind us.”
“Pretend he’s a lap in front.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to prove I was just as good with children as I was with dogs, so I pretended the kid was miles ahead. “Oh, you are winning. You’re just about to lap us.”
“Ner ner nee ner ner!” the little shit taunted, eagerly bouncing atop his slow, white horse. “You’re gonna lose. You’re gonna lose.” Yeah, you’re gonna smell what I had for breakfast if you don’t shut up.
The kid was downwind. It was only fair.
Danielle giggled. “Yeah, you’re gonna lose,” she added, poking her tongue out at me, her eyes twinkling brighter than the sun glare bouncing off the bobbing horses surrounding us. She was so beautiful when she smiled. It near stole my breath every time, which was unfortunate considering I wasn’t a turtle.
Watching her look back over her shoulder and wink at the kid with encouragement, a kid she didn’t even know, a kid that was now beside himself with joy as he raced a couple of adults on a Merry-Go-Round, I knew that I’d just fallen in love with her for the third time.
I also knew I would never fall in love with any other person.
It was her.
It had always been her.