I glance to my right, taking in the woman who’s walking along with her fingers twisted with mine, the summer sun warming her skin, and a soft smile on her lips.
We’re in her happy place, Runyon Canyon Park.
A walk with our pooches has become a big part of my game day ritual. I miss the fuck out of it when I’m on the road and forced to leave Freya, Buddy, and Charlie behind. It’s all worth it when I return home to find them waiting for me, though.
Sensing my attention, Freya looks up at me through her dark glasses.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Excited, nervous, apprehensive.”
She nods in understanding. The thing is, though, she thinks I’m talking about the upcoming game. She has no idea about the real reason for my nerves.
My hand moves on instinct, checking the zipped pocket of my shorts for the millionth time.
“You’re going to do amazing tonight. And win or lose, you’ve played an incredible season. You should be proud of yourself.”
I am proud of myself. This season has been incredible, but it’s been made all the better because of her. Every single bit of my life got better because Freya came into it.
She’s no longer my employee; she’s my entire life. And that’s exactly how I intend to keep it.
We continue walking, Buddy and Charlie up ahead, running back and forth, checking their surroundings, and wearing themselves out.
Freya isn’t the only one who’s made my life better. They have too. They’ve brought so much fun, laughter, and love into the apartment. Yes, mess and chaos too, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Freya’s laugh rings through the air as Charlie drags a stick from the undergrowth, although I’m not sure it can be classified as a stick. It’s more like half a tree.
“We’re not taking that one home, boy,” I call. He looks up at me with his large, dark eyes, and my heart jolts. “Nope. Do not look at me like that.” All three of them know I’d do anything for them. But it’s the dogs that really pull on my heartstrings. That’s why our apartment now resembles a pet store. There are more dog toys littered around than two dogs could ever need in their lives.
I just can’t help myself. The need to ensure they feel like they belong, like we’re their forever home, burns through me like a wildfire.
It’s how I was desperate to be treated as a kid, and I know it’s different, I know they’re dogs, but I still need them to know how much they’re wanted, how much they’re loved.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Freya asks as I sniffle.
“Yeah, of course. Allergies.”
“You don’t have any allergies,” she counters.
“Well, maybe today I do.”
Thankfully, Charlie abandons his tree, and we continue walking along Freya’s favorite trail in the park.
This one doesn’t have the best views of LA, but because of that, it’s quieter. It’s perfect.
As we approach her favorite spot to stop and contemplate life, or in more recent times, make out with me, my heart rate begins to pick up.
This is it. This is about to be the moment.
I blow out a steady breath between my parted lips in an attempt to get myself together. It doesn’t help; instead, it just turns Freya’s attention back to me.
Her eyes narrow in suspicion, but she doesn’t say anything as we round the corner.
The second we get to the right spot, I tug on her hand and give her little choice but to turn back to face me.
“Hey,” she breathes, her eyes bouncing between mine.
I step a little closer, my heart a runaway train in my chest.
