“Yes, Brody would never hurt me.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Hey, can I ask you something and you give me an honest answer?”
“Yikes. That sounds like a dangerous proposition.”
I shook my head, hair brushing my shoulders. “I promise it’s not. Am I...do I refuse to let people around here help me?” I knew I refused to depend on anyone, but did I push people away to the point that I didn’t ask for, or accept help at all? “Like, say, if I had a dog I couldn’t handle?”
He considered. “Hmm. You like to do things on your own. Most of the time you can, but on occasion, you get in over your head because you overestimate what you can do alone.”
“Yesterday, I asked you to help me reposition the A-frame.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but you tried to drag it across the ring by yourself first.” He shifted to sit on the desk. “Do you remember Linus?”
I couldn’t look at him, felt the sting of shame. It was the scariest incident of my career. The dog, a Leonberger, had aggression issues. During a private lesson, the giant dog broke away from his owner, attacking me with no warning. He pinned me to the floor in a matter of seconds, stood over me, holding me down.
“Linus was dangerous because of his size alone. He was also highly aggressive, agitated, and his owner had zero control over him. Yet, instead of asking for backup during the lesson, you decided to take it on by yourself. If I hadn’t been keeping an eye on the situation, there’s a distinct possibility you wouldn’t have a throat right now.”
“You wouldn’t have asked for another trainer’s help, either.”
He huffed out a sigh. “Yes, Lily. I would have. I never would have stepped into the room with a dog that size if I didn’t have a couple of extra pairs of hands. You, however, acted like you had something to prove. It was reckless.”
I brought my head up. “I thought I could handle it.”
“And you got yourself in way over your head. ‘I thought I could handle it’? That’s your pride talking. Not your brain. And definitely not your training.” Walking toward the doorway, he put a hand on my shoulder, but stared ahead. “Pride goeth, Lily. We all need help now and then. It doesn’t make us weak. It makes us human.”
I let that sink in. One after another my brain coughed up incidents where I’d shaken off help or didn’t ask when I should have.
I owed Brody an apology.
After running home for a shower, I fed the dogs. Pairing my favorite black skirt with a plum-colored top, I swiped on a deep purple eyeliner, mascara, and a little lip gloss. I missed him. I missed us and the way we were together. While I was driving to his place, my phone vibrated.
I let it go to voice mail.
The fluttering in my stomach was too much to deal with.
I opened my window, letting the warm air and the lights of urban sprawl soothe me. This time of year, the sun didn’t set until nine or so. The ginger-colored sunset was a beautiful backdrop for all the new construction. New. There was such newness to this part of Dallas. It made me want to follow suit.
Lily Costello is Under Construction. Caution: Hard Hat Area. The thought made me smile as I let my hand dance through the wind out of the driver’s window and sang along with Alabama Shakes to “Sound & Color” letting the words wrap around my ears. It was amazing how much energy it took, how much weight I carried because I wouldn’t let myself depend on anyone but me. I was tired of it. I was tired of shutting Brody down whenever he started to crack my shell.
After parking in a visitor’s spot, I headed for Brody’s apartment. It wasn’t until I was in the elevator that I remembered the voicemail and listened as I walked down his hall.
“Hey, Lily. I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier. I just... I’m worried about you.”
I knocked and Brody answered before the message was finished. Before he could say anything, I held my index finger to my lips.
“I care about you. A lot, Liliana. Okay, give me a call when you get this. Talk soon.”
Hitting save on the message, I slipped it into my purse. “I was listening to your message.”
He scratched his stubble. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I... The thought of someone hurting you. I didn’t handle that well.”
I cocked my head. “You care about me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I do.” Brody’s cheeks turned pink.
Warmth bloomed in my chest. When he held the door open wider in invitation, I walked in under his arm.
CC was lying on the couch. All four paws in the air, snoring like she had sleep apnea. It made me smile. Brody shut the door, and I could feel him behind me.
“Does she always sleep like that?”
“Like that. Or curled into a ball pushing against my ribcage.”
I grinned up at him, the butterflies returning. “She feels comfortable. Safe and protected. She’s at ease. Curling into your side means you’re hers. She’s bonded to you. I’m so glad, Brody. She depends on you. You’ve really put your heart into helping her find her way.”
“More like she stole my heart right out of my chest. You can depend on me, too, Liliana.”
His eyes held mine.
When I didn’t respond, he turned toward his kitchen, but not before I caught the disappointment. “Glass of wine?”
I followed him, my sandals tapping against the floor. That was the tricky part, wasn’t it? I wanted to depend on him. To trust that he would be there when I needed him. And I knew Brody would be there for the dogs. But being there for me... “Yeah, that would be great.”
He pulled an open bottle from the fridge, filling two glasses. “I’m glad you’re here, Lil, but what’s up? Something happen with the mill?”
As I slid on to a barstool at the kitchen island, he pushed a stemless glass in front of me. I felt myself wishing there was a stem to fiddle with. The man was all kinds of yummy.
Bare feet, loose shorts sitting low on his hips with the outline. The one that meant he was freeballing it. A threadbare UNT Football T-shirt stretched across his chest. Freshly trimmed scruff with the ends of his hair still damp.
And a heat radiating from him that I couldn’t ignore. But why else had I cleaned up? I liked the heat. That tug in my abdomen, and the ache that came with it. The fact that this man wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I couldn’t reconcile the Brody I knew with the one the media hounded. My Brody had a big heart in that big body. He’d been a man of his word and was smart and thoughtful. My Brody was a guy spending his Saturday night with a dog that had him wrapped around her little nubbin. That was my Brody—the one that mattered to me.