This is rock bottom. This is what hitting rock bottom looks like.
"I'm going out," I announce, grabbing my jacket.
Philip doesn't look up. "Running away from your feelings?"
"Running away from my textbook. Big difference."
"Sure."
I flip him off as I leave.
***
THE UBER DRIVER doesn't try to make small talk, bless him, which means I can spend the fifteen-minute ride spiraling in peace.
Maybe I should just... let it go. Move on. Find some other guy to hook up with and get this stupid horny frustration out of my system.
Except I don't want some other guy.
I want the six-foot-five hockey player with the dark hair and the blue eyes and the stupidly perfect face who is straight and therefore completely off-limits.
The universe is a bitch.
The shelter appears through the window, and I'm already feeling better. Animals don't give a shit about your personal problems. They just want treats and belly rubs.
I wish the driver a good day and head inside, the familiar smell of dogs and disinfectant hitting me immediately. It's weirdly comforting.
Mama Paws spots me from behind the front desk. "Devon, honey! Twice in one week? I'm starting to think you like us."
"What can I say? You're growing on me." I lean against the desk. "Is a certain lady named Candy available for a walk? I need some quality time with my favorite girl."
Mama Paws looks me up and down, as if assessing if I'm sufficiently responsible, before she nods. "She's all yours, honey." She stands, grabbing a leash from the hook on the wall. "Let me show you how to handle her."
We walk back to Candy's kennel, and my heart does that funny melting thing when I see her. She's curled up on her bed, but her tail starts wagging the second she hears us approaching.
"Hey, queen," I coo, and she perks up even more.
Mama Paws opens the kennel and Candy comes out slowly, carefully, her nose working overtime.
"Okay, so with Candy, you want to give her verbal cues constantly," Mama Paws explains, clipping the leash to Candy's collar. "Let her know where you are, where you're going. She's good about following sounds, but sudden movements can startle her."
"Talk her through everything. Got it."
"Exactly. And watch for obstacles—curbs, steps, anything she might trip on. She's pretty good at navigating, but she relies on you to be her eyes."
I take the leash, crouching down to let Candy sniff my hand even though she definitely already knows it's me. "Ready for a walk, m'lady?"
Her tail wags harder.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Mama Paws pats my shoulder. "You're good with her."
"She's easy to be good with."
We head toward the exit, Candy walking close to my left side, her steps confident despite not being able to see where she's going. She trusts me completely, and it makes something warm settle in my chest.
We're almost at the door when I notice a man standing outside, peering through the window.
