"I can take it slow," I argue. Remington scoffs at my defiance.
"You tend to go overboard with the whole spoil them thing."
"I don't." I'm being petulant, like my niece who got caught doing something she shouldn't. We both laugh, knowing my argument is weak.
"On a serious note," Remington says and looks right at me. "I think you need to talk to him. If anything, maybe you can find some things in common."
We buy another round of drinks and then split an order of onion rings before calling it a night. Remington is already on the phone with Austin, who is waiting for him at home, by the time we pay our tabs and head out into the cold air. The holidays have come and gone, but the weather is still brutal. The forecast is showing snow next week and the weather is definitely reflecting that right now.
The drive to my house is uneventful. Riley is waiting for me at the door, like always, when I get home. The taps of his nails as he prances on his feet makes me smile. He's such a good boy. I walk through the house to the back door and let him out into the yard to play. The neighborhood is great, picked mostly for the demographics of the neighbors. It isn't an HOA, because I refuse to buy a house where someone else gets to dictate what I can and can't do, but most of the people on this street are over sixty. It makes for a quiet place, which I enjoy after a day of work.
I've put up a fence around my property, tall enough that anyone who wanted to snoop would need a ladder. None of the houses have a balcony on the backside. Not on this street at least. I watch Riley run around for a few minutes and do his business before calling him in. I have a dog walker that comes by once a day and feeds him on the days when I won't be home until later, but he's always a good boy and doesn't mess in the house.
Riley trots off somewhere in the house while I grab a cup and down a glass of water. I think about Orion for the hundredth time. Remington had it right when he said that I'm not usually like this. I don't get attached, or constantly think about someone that I only know their name. Nights like this, I think about how big this house is for just one person. The living room has high ceilings and a fancy, but generic painting, mounted above the fireplace mantle. I'm six foot-two and the mantle is up to my shoulders. There are four bedrooms, a furnished basement, and two full bathrooms, both with separate tubs and showers. Then the en suite, which isn't as big as the others, but still more than spacious enough for myself and a guest. The kitchen is modern, with all the gadgets because I'm not the best at cooking. I definitely get good use out of the air fryer and eat a lot of salads. Most nights, I'm picking something up on the way home or meeting friends to go out, like tonight.
When I decide that it's time to get ready for bed, I head up the stairs to find Riley laying at the foot of the bed of the guest bedroom. He's gone in there each night in the last six weeks. Sometimes, he stays there all night. Others, I'll wake up in the morning to find he's made his way to my bed.
He thumps his tail against the bed twice, like he's silently asking if the mystery person who cuddled with him all night would be coming back. An idea forms in my mind and I walk closer to scratch behind his ears.
"What do you say we get some coffee tomorrow?" I ask. There's no reaction to that, because none of those words are in his vocabulary. "Want to go for a walk tomorrow?"
Riley barks once, sitting up on the bed and wagging his tail furiously now. His bulky head butts against my palm, demanding more pets. I laugh at how spirited he is and how much he loves going for walks. Walks mean meeting new people and he's such a people type of dog.
"We'll go tomorrow evening, okay?" I have meetings tomorrow morning. I plan my meetings for Fridays because it allows me to get updates for the week and I can usually dip out after a half day. It's another thing Remington and I have in common when it comes to work and why we get along so well. Our work ethics are pretty much the same. I don't care when my employees leave, as long as they get their work done. We're gearing up for the tax season now, starting in February, so I'm taking advantage of any free time I can take right now. Being an accountant is great, until you're trying to plan anything in February, March, or April.
I shower and slip back into a pair of briefs before crawling into the bed for the night.
Ten minutes later, Riley jumps on the bed and curls up beside my feet. I smile when I hear his heavy sigh. It must be a hard life being a spoiled pup with no job.
Thealarmgoesofftoo soon the next morning. I put my feet on the floor and stretch my body out, grunting when my back pops twice. Riley hops off the bed and trots to the door, then pauses and turns to look at me, waiting. It's the same thing every morning. It takes me back to memories of my childhood when my mom would stand by my door and make sure I actually got out of bed.
Riley makes a playful growling noise and jumps on his front paws, his way of saying I'm taking way too long and he wants breakfast. I roll my eyes, but stand up. Riley only gets more playful, a mix of trotting and tapping his feet to the floor impatiently, but always looking back at me to make sure I'm still there.
"Let me use the bathroom first, okay?" I walk into the bathroom and only glance at the mirror before doing my business. I turn my head side to side as I wash my hands, checking my beard for any gray hairs. My dad's beard started turning gray by the time he hit thirty-five, but so far I've been lucky. My head is bald, so I don't have to worry about that, thankfully. I started losing my hair, also thanks to my dad's genetics, in my late twenties and decided to just shave it all off. The bald look suits me, so I've been told. It's been ten years and I can't imagine growing it back out now. I finish my morning routine by brushing my teeth before Riley's had enough and starts barking from downstairs.
I head downstairs and let Riley out to do his own business while I prepare his breakfast. He's a Pit Bull and Boxer mix so Riley is ninety percent muscle and he has a special diet food to keep his joints and weight healthy. Breakfast is always a treat for him, with a mix of raw and kibble, but dinner is typically just the kibble.
"Eat up, bud." I start talking to Riley as I work around the kitchen to gather my own breakfast. Overnight oats in the fridge and fried eggs with toast. "I'll be back home early today and we'll go for a walk." We'll have to drive back into the city, because I'm not walking the fifteen miles to the coffee shop, but I have a parking pass for one of the garages around the area. Once we're both done with our breakfast, I head back upstairs to get ready for work.
My closet is filled with suits and dress shirts. Owning an accounting business that deals with a lot of other businesses and has a branch that helps individuals file their taxes means I'm meeting with other CEOs and important business people and have to look the part. I decide on the navy suit with the white button up and matching navy tie. I've spent a pretty buck on each of the suits, getting them tailored to my measurements. I admire myself in the full length mirror for a minute before heading downstairs and putting on the black dress shoes I keep by the front door. I have a pair of brown and another pair of tan for different suits. Plus my tennis shoes and the slides I usually wear during the summer.
"I'll be back soon, Ri. Be a good boy." I kiss the top of Riley's head before grabbing my briefcase and keys.
The sky is gray, threatening some type of precipitation within the next few hours by the look of it. I turn the heat up and click over to my music app to play something that will wake me up. I don't consider myself a morning person, per se, but I can get up and go when needed. It doesn't hurt to have a little music to pass the drive, though.
Chapter Five
Ilookoutthewindow once more and sigh. I'm not even outside and I can tell how miserable the walk home is going to be. It started raining just before lunch, which cut down on how busy we usually are on Friday, but it also means that I'm going to be soaked and freezing walking home. I finish wiping down the bar situated by the windows and turn back to make sure everything else is restocked.
Austin is still in the office. Since last week, when he asked me about the club and if I was in the lifestyle, he's kept his distance. I feel bad about how I reacted, but I have no idea how to explain what I meant to him. We work alongside each other, but it's strained and a bit awkward. The truth is, I've had more than enough time since that time at the club to think about it. Remembering the way everyone looked so carefree and happy in that room, I find myself remembering the warmth and even the witty banter back and forth with the barkeep when I'm sitting at home alone.
I've thought about going back to the club, after getting my first real paycheck. I don't have much in the way of extra savings, but the forty dollars isn't nearly as hindering to me as it was last time. Then I saw Garrett here, in the coffee shop. My brain supplied fresh memories of crashing at his place soon after we got there. Waking up the next morning, I was embarrassed. I wanted to apologize to him, to say I would make it up, but I didn't know how to bring it up and he never mentioned anything. Just asked how I slept and made me breakfast before driving me back to my place.
There's a knock on the front door of the restaurant, startling me. I turn around and see a man and a dog standing under the dim lighting of the awning. It takes me a second to recognize Garrett. I hurry around the counter and open the door for them to come in. Riley is wearing little booties and a raincoat, which is adorable, but still happily sits just inside the doors. Garrett shakes out his umbrella before leaning it against the wall.
"Hey, Orion." I look up to Garrett, already on my knees to give Riley my attention. He licks my face when I'm not looking. I wipe the slobber off with my arm.
"Hey, Garrett. What are you doing walking around here in this weather?"
