But as the knocking comes again, so do memories from the day before, and suddenly Mason’s presence in my bed isn’t a sexy wake-up call, it’s about comfort because my dog broke through the front door and ran away.
What if she’s knocking at the door now? Honestly, at this point I wouldn’t put it past her.
I tumble out of bed, my feet tangled in the sheets. Behind me, Mason mutters something I don’t hear, and it’s only as I’m halfway up the hall that I realize I have no shirt on. I run back long enough to snag the shirt I wore yesterday, which is a bright-red buffalo plaid that clashes horribly with my blue-and-white striped pajama pants, but if it’s actually someone with Athena at the door, my fashion sense is completely irrelevant.
The knock comes again, and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I might throw up. I stub my toe on nothing as I trip my way to the door and throw it open. Athena launches herself at me, and the sound that tears out of my chest is ninety percent pure relief and joy.
The ten percent, though, is a mix of shock and dismay and—yes—a little bit of shame.
Because holding the end of Athena’s leash is the last man I want to see right now.
It’s Gavin.
18
Mason
Honestly,this is Charlie’s story to tell. Better if you hear it all from him.
19
Charlie
It’s Gavin.
“Hey,” he says. “Did I wake you up?”
I have no idea what time it is. It could be seven or after ten.
And I’m dressed like a lumberjack on casual Friday.
Fuck.
“It’s fine. Um. What are you doing here?”
The way Athena is trying to pull his arm off makes the answer to that question pretty evident.
“I guess she missed me,” he says with a smirk, which at least reminds me I’m supposed to hate him.
I kneel down, and Athena launches herself at me with all her boundless enthusiasm. She has no idea what I’ve been through, and she’ll probably even look for opportunities to go for a run again in the future, but right now I’m so glad to have her back. I bury my face in her neck as she whines and tries to lick whatever parts of my body she can reach.
“There are no bad dogs,” I say around a mouthful of fur. “But I am still very upset with you.”
“I found her wandering around near the college,” Gavin says, and when I glance up, he’s leaning against the doorframe with a wry smile and his arms folded across his chest.
“She got out,” I say. “Figured out how to open the door.”
He smiles. It’s a good smile. Gavin was always handsome.
“That’s my girl.” He bends down to pat her head, and she spins, trying to nip at his fingers.
“Everything okay?”
My blood goes cold at the sound of Mason’s voice behind me, and I spring to my feet. He’s coming up the hall, and his stride says he owns the place.
Gavin’s casual posture evaporates in an instant. He straightens, fixing the cuffs of his denim shirt. His smile is polished as he sizes up Mason.
“Hi, there. I’m Gavin. I’m a friend of Charlie’s.” He says it so smoothly, like it’s always been true and we’ve never been more than that.
