Sweet & Spicy Lesbian Short Stories (GirlxGirl)

City Girl: Part 1

A new girl in town meets someone cute at the dog park, but her rambunctious pup makes the situation more awkward by the minute. Rating: PG

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The dog park is supposed to be a good place to meet people. Everyone told me the same—my parents, sister, bestie, and anyone else who's heard me gripe about how hard it is to make friends in Los Angeles.

"Be bold and get out there!" they all said.

Well, my disaster of a dog is rolling around on a dead fish, and I don't know who's going to talk to me when my supposed conversation starter is covered in decayed salmon.

"Moose, no! Come here." I race down the beach, heat rising in my face.

He's led three other dogs to the jackpot and they're all rubbing their chests in it. Their owners race over, shouting and cursing. We become a tangle of limbs as we try to catch our pets.

"Sorry," I stammer. "I'm so sorry. He's a hound mix... when he catches a scent he's relentless..."

"No worries," a guy grumbles, his tone saying otherwise as Moose knocks him sideways.

Ugh, I should give up hope of making friends or finding a girlfriend in the city. I can't believe I put on makeup for this.

I lunge for Moose, who thinks I'm playing and jumps up. He plants two muddy paws on my chest.

"Get off! You smell like hot garbage."

He barks and zooms in a wide circle, apparently thrilled by all of this chaos. Other dogs follow him until the park is a furry vortex.

Okay, my dog is officially a terror and I can never show my face here again.

With a huff, I take off my flannel shirt and tie it around my waist. The clear spring morning is chilly, but a t-shirt is better than standing here with muddy paw prints on my boobs. I gather my blond locks into a messy ponytail, giving up on looking nice.

Someone shouts behind me. An English bulldog with an underbite trundles toward the fish, and across the muddy field near the park entrance, his owner sprints toward us, arms waving.

They'll never make it in time to stop the bulldog.

Not wanting anyone else to suffer as I have, I grab the chonky pup before he lands on the fish, scooping him up like a football. I hold him, trying to keep other dogs back with my knees, while his owner catches up, panting.

"Good snag. I thought I'd have to go to work smelling like a dead fish."

I hand over the squirming bulldog, and I lift my gaze to a pair of light brown eyes. My heart stutters.

"My—my pleasure," I say, lips tingling. "I already smell like a dead fish, so..."

Smooth, Meg.

The bulldog's owner takes him from me and sets him down away from the offending fish. "I'm Ava. They/she."

"Meg," I say. "She/her."

Wow, an introduction! That's the closest I've come to making a friend at a dog park. Okay, time to retreat in shame and never come back.

Except...

A couple of inches taller than me, Ava traces their gaze over me in a way that makes my belly flutter. They're rocking a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, relaxed-fit jeans, and a bold leather watch. Their dark hair is buzzed on the sides and wavy on top, perfectly styled. The contrast of their feminine makeup and masculine clothing makes my knees weak. Is it suddenly hot out here?