Page 48 of Doggy Style

Preston

Iawake in the morning to a sweet kiss, but I quickly realize the giver of the affection is Gidget, not Yessi, who is still sound asleep, her long dark hair tousled on the pillow. She’s so naturally gorgeous even without a lick of makeup. I’m thankful she’s my woman. Though we’re very different people and have different beliefs, we complement each other in so many ways.

I roll out of bed, pull on my pajama bottoms, grab my phone, and leash Gidget up. She stretches into a perfect downward dog and then reverses direction to an upward dog. I adore her, too. She’s seriously the sweetest dog. I can’t believe her owner and Hugh both dumped her.

I take the elevator down to the grassy area outside and let Gidget use the bathroom.

Time to reconnect with the digital world. I pick up my phone and see that it’s blowing up with messages.

Damn, dawg, she’s hot.

You’re the man.

Dirty devil dog—can’t believe you did another sex tape.

Wait—what the fuck?

My heart races in my chest. This can’t be happening to me again.

I click on my Snapchat and see a bunch of messages.

And there it is—for the whole world to see.

A clip of me doing Yessi doggy style in my apartment, from the other week.

Rage boils through me. How is this happening again? Is there a camera in my home? Who put it there?

Breathe, Preston. Breathe. Don’t freak out. Calm under pressure. Think rationally and don’t jump to conclusions.

It couldn’t have been Yessi. That would make no sense. I don’t believe she would sell me out like that. With Kira, it made sense because she wanted to live in the limelight. But Yessi doesn’t care about fame at all. She’s happy taking moonlit strolls on the beach with me. We’re already planning a trip back to Hawai’i to finish our vacation and get Cuffs, who’s finally recovered. Poor guy had giardia, worms, mange, and a ton of other issues I can’t even pronounce. The vet says he’s the sweetest dog, and I’m just grateful we saved him.

But Yessi wouldn’t do this. And I didn’t do this.

Then it hits me.

Hugh.

Oh my god! Hugh!

How could I have been such an idiot? He has a key to my place. Wanda told me that he said he was heading to my place when she last saw him. And I always let him stay there when I was still with Kira.

Kira.

Fuck. I blamed Kira for the tape. Wouldn’t listen to her when she denied leaking it. I’m such an asshole. That tape ruined our relationship. I won’t let that happen with Yessi.

Gidget finishes her business. My hand shakes as I hold her leash.

I race upstairs with Gidget in tow. Yessi is now in the kitchen brewing coffee. The aroma of the freshly ground beans mixed with the salty sea air fills my condo, but I feel anything but relaxed. I drop the leash, go into my bedroom, and stand next to my bed, my eyes scanning the space like when I was a sniper.

A few seconds later, Yessi walks in. “Pres, what are you doing? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I don’t even answer her because I finally see it—a small black camera hidden next to my speaker.

That motherfucker. How did I never notice this? Some Marine I am—I’m supposed to be always aware of my surroundings. And not only could I not protect myself from this violation of privacy, but also I couldn’t protect the women I’ve been with from it either.

I jump up on the bed and swat the camera down.

“Preston, what the fuck? Oh my god. Is that a camera?”