“Oh, that’s okay. I want what’s best for Otis. And it seems like it’s best for you too.” And maybe for Easton. “How did you get my name and number?”
“Easton gave it to me. In case I needed someone to walk him.”
My heart bursts into a glow and my lips tremble into a smile. My throat is thick as I swallow and turn to leave.
I walk home. The sun is out, glistening on the snow and ice, so I slide on my sunglasses. Otis prances on his leash, sniffing here and there.
I imagine the scene when Easton had to give back Otis and my heart hurts for him. I know he loves Otis even though he never wanted a dog and tried to get rid of him and had no idea how to look after a dog. At first. But the fact that he would give him up to return him to his rightful owner…oh man. That had to be so hard, to do the right thing.
I hope I’m doing the right thing too.
Easton
I roll out of bed and trudge into the bathroom for a shower. After getting back from Toronto last night, I came straight home and crashed. The last few days…hell, the last few weeks have been exhausting. It’s nearly noon and I had a good solid sleep, yet I still feel tired. Dragged out.
I’ve made progress, though.
It still feels weird not to have to take Otis outside before I do anything. I didn’t have him that long, but that damn dog managed to make himself part of my life. I miss the mutt.
After a shower, I dress in jeans and a hoodie and make myself scrambled eggs and toast and, of course, coffee. Which reminds me of Lilly. So many things remind me of her.
I pick up my phone and scroll through social media as I eat. I smile at a pic of Cookie wearing a Santa hat, flanked by his two sisters. I frown at a few posts I see about trade rumors. I don’t like to believe rumors, but where there’s smoke there’s usually a flame, and more than one sportswriter is talking about a trade between the Bears and the Stars, naming a few Stars defensemen, including Josh Heller.
I shake my head and scroll on, lingering over a photo Lilly posted on Instagram of her and Carlin with Carlin flashing a diamond ring. Huh. Looks like Carlin and William got engaged.
What does that mean for Lilly? She was worried about Carlin moving out and being able to afford the apartment.
I guess it’s not my business. Sadness washes over me.
I drop my phone.
A knock at the door jolts me. I frown. Is it Cookie or Russ? Did we make plans I forgot about?
I cross the living room and yank open the door.
Lilly.
My heart slams against my ribs.
And Otis.
My mouth drops open.
“What…?”
An uncertain smile flickers over her beautiful face. “Hi.”
I move my head from side to side, still not sure if this is real or I’m still in bed, asleep, having crazy dreams. “Hi.”
I look down at Otis, jumping up on me, crying. “You are such a badly behaved dog,” I mutter, bending to pick him up. “What the hell are you doing here?” I raise my questioning gaze to Lilly. “Both of you.”
“I brought Otis back to you.”
I’m still not comprehending. “Uh, come in. I’m a bit confused.”
Holy shit. I’m more than confused.
She walks in, bringing her scent with her, the scent that instantly makes me think of pressing my nose and lips against her skin, breathing her in. She’s carrying Otis’s bag, packed with his things, and her purse. She sets the bag down and removes her mitts. “So, this is kind of crazy.”
I stare at her, absorbing everything about her. Her shiny hair, her sparkling blue eyes, her pretty mouth. “I miss you.”
Her bottom lip quivers almost imperceptibly. She swallows. “I miss you too.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, her eyelashes fluttering.
Time stretches out, looping and wrapping around us. Finally I break the clotted silence. “You were right.”
Her eyes widen and her chin lowers. “About…?”
“Come in. Can I take your jacket? Would you like coffee? I’ll make you coffee.”
The corners of her mouth quirk. “Coffee would be great.”
As I set Otis down, she lifts her cross-body purse over her head and sets it on the table, then unzips her puffy jacket. I help her out of it and hang it in the closet. My hands are shaking.
I walk to the kitchen, my legs feeling stiff and awkward. Otis prances around, completely at home. My head is spinning. I have this chance. A chance to talk to her. I don’t know if it’s another chance for us. Is that too optimistic? Too crazy? I probably don’t even deserve it.
I manage to brew a cup of coffee for her while she pulls Otis’s dishes out of his bag and fills one with water, setting it in the usual spot.
“First tell me about Otis,” I say. “What’s going on?”
She leans on the counter across from me, where she sat that day eating breakfast and told me she takes coffee seriously and busted my balls by telling me she’d clap when she was impressed with me and I thought she was so incredibly gorgeous.
“Dennis called me. He wanted me to walk Otis. Only I didn’t know it was Otis until I got here yesterday. He called him Percy.”
“Yeah.” I wrinkle my nose. “That’s a terrible name for him.”
“I agree. Otis is much better. Anyway, I was totally floored when I heard what had happened.” She tips her head. “I was really mad at you for firing me.” Then she narrows her eyes. “You never said what happened, so I assumed that.”
“I was…bumfused.”
She chokes. “What?”
“Bummed and confused.”
Her lips twitch. “Right. So. I was mad. And hurt. Anyway”—she waves a hand—“it was clear to me that Dennis…”—she spits out his name as if she’s eating one of Otis’s dog biscuits. She apparently feels the same about him as I do—“…doesn’t really want a dog. I convinced him it would be better for both of them to give Otis back.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Holy crap. How did you do that?”
She shrugs. I pass her the coffee and she picks it up and takes a small sip. “It actually wasn’t that hard. I assumed you would want him back.” She meets my eyes. “But I can take him to the shelter. Or maybe…” She stops.