Last night’s uneasy feeling comes back with a vengeance. “I’m fine.”
“You lock your doors, right? I don’t mean just at night, but all the time.”
“Of course.” Why is he asking me these questions now? It’s as if he knows I was quietly freaking out last night. That’s probably why I couldn’t sleep. Plus I have a lot on my mind. It never seems to stop spinning; it doesn’t matter what time it is. “I’m beyond cautious.”
“Good,” he says with a finality that sounds very possessive and makes me feel fluttery and nervous. Which is stupid, because I should not be aroused by his protectiveness over me.
But I am.
“Consider a dog, though. There’s no such thing as having too much protection,” he continues.
I nod, sitting forward so I can grab my coffee and finish it off. “I could go with you today to look at dogs, if you want. Help you pick him out.” I need to lighten the mood. I don’t like thinking I need a dog to keep me safe.
“A him, huh?”
“Or a sweet, sweet girl. Whatever you prefer.” I tap my fingers on the table, liking the idea of Ethan with a dog. He doesn’t have anyone. No family, no friends. I hate thinking of him moving through his life alone. He’s already done it for too long. “It would be fun.”
His expression turns somber. “You want to go with me and help me pick out my new dog, Katie?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my gaze dropping when I see him reach out and rest his hand on top of mine. His fingers skim across the back of my hand, sending a scattering of tingles in their wake, and I marvel at the power his touch has over me.
And how I always crave more of it.
“Then let’s go.” His hand drops away and he stands, as do I, fighting the disappointment that swamps me at the loss of his touch.
There will be more opportunities, I tell myself. This isn’t the end.
This could be just the beginning.
I’ve never seen a nicer day. The sky is so blue it almost looks fake, with only the occasional fluffy white cloud floating by. The sun is bright but the breeze is cool, and somehow I convinced Katie to come back with me so I could go to my local animal shelter rather than hers.
I wanted to find a dog from my area. Some left-behind, kicked-when-he-was-already-down beast of a mutt. With friendly eyes and a wagging tail. I’ll know when I find the right one. It’ll be a dog that will snag my heart the moment I lay eyes on it.
Sort of how Katie snagged my heart. From the moment I saw her, I knew I had to take care of her. In some inherent way, I knew she belonged to me.
It just took me years to find her again.
Is it wrong of me to want her to forget the past and focus on who we are now? Probably. I know she’s still having a hard time processing that I’m Will. Though I don’t like thinking of myself with that name anymore. I’ve moved on. It was easier that way, leaving the old me behind and never looking back.
“The ocean looks beautiful,” she murmurs, her head turned toward her partially opened window, her hair flying everywhere. “The sun is so bright it’s making the water sparkle like diamonds.”
I try to keep my eyes on the road, but it’s hard. I’d rather stare at Katie, or look at the ocean to the west of the highway, just beyond the low rolling hills and the town spread out before it. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I force myself to face forward.
We’ve made small talk for most of the drive. Nothing too serious, nothing personal; it’s easier that way. But I want to talk about more. I want to talk about us. I just don’t know if I can.
I don’t even know if there really is an “us.”
We talk about our favorite breeds, Katie googling various types of dogs and flashing her phone at me when she finds one she likes. It feels good; it’s so normal, acting like this. Just another Saturday between two people who like each other. No pressure. No heaviness.
I need that right now. I think Katie does, too.
“You might not be able to take the dog home right away,” Katie says, her brows scrunched low as she reads something on her phone. “It might even take a few weeks.”
“That sucks.” I wanted to bring the dog home today. Go to a pet store and load up on treats, supplies, and a toy or two. I need the distraction. I need to focus on something else for a change.
“Or maybe you will.” Katie tucks her hair behind her ear, most of it flying around her face once again since she has her window cracked. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Within ten minutes of arriving in town I find the animal shelter. It’s busy, the parking lot full of cars, and we venture inside together, going to the front desk to say we want to look at the dogs.
The woman behind the counter smiles at the two of us and hands us a sheet of paper explaining the steps to adoption, along with an application.
Frowning, I meet the woman’s gaze. “Application?”
She nods, her smile never faltering. “We have to make sure you can provide the proper living situation for your future pet. For example, if you live in a tiny apartment, we wouldn’t recommend you adopting a German shepherd.”
“Makes sense,” I murmur as I look over the application. The woman hands me a pen and a clipboard, then waves her fingers toward the chairs lined up against the wall.
“Have a seat, fill out the application, and when you’re done, someone will show you to the back.”
Katie sits right next to me, her thigh pressing against mine as she reads over the adoption process instructions while I fill out the form. The questions are simple, asking about my living situation, if I work, if there are any other pets in the house, if there are any other people. I look like one lonely dude when I fill out all of my stats on the application.