“My dog, Puck.”
“Puck? That’s adorable.”
“I wanted to name him Gretzky, but the day I brought him home, he went straight for one of my pucks and wouldn’t stop chewing on it.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing he got a puck and not something like toilet paper,” Piper laughs.
God, she’s cute.
“Careful. He’s not big on people.”
“Hi, sweet boy.” Piper squats close to him, holding her hand out so he can sniff her. Big brown eyes look at herhand before he leans toward her. A few sniffs and he’s up and attacking her face with kisses.
Piper falls on her ass as he licks every inch of her he can get to.
“Easy, boy.”
Of course my dog likes her. I’ve never seen him take to anyone like that. Not even me.
“What a good boy. Yes, you are,” Piper coos. Puck drops into her lap and leans into her pats.
“He likes you.”
“Makes one person in this house.”
“Aren’t you funny.”
Piper gives him a pat on the stomach before pointing him back to his bed. “Your dad and I are going out today, but I’ll have him home in one piece.”
Puck lies down like he understands her.
“We better get going.”
I don’t need my dog to fall in love with her any more than he already has.
“Are you nervous about going to the hospital?” Piper asks as I lead her into the garage to head out.
“Not really.” I open the door to my truck and help her in. “Kids don’t criticize nearly as much as adults.”
Piper’s laughter follows me around as I get in and head toward the hospital. “So the way to befriend you is to not criticize?”
“Well,”—I turn my blinker on and merge onto the main road through the city— “would you want to be friends with someone that criticizes you?”
“I kicked that person out. Not that she was critical, but just a terrible person.”
“Who did you kick out?” I can’t imagine anyone being a terrible person to Piper.
“Ava.”
“Wait. Ava was your roommate?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Jesus, Piper.”
“I’m glad to be done with those two.”
“Even if we keep running into them?”
