“I found him out behind the dumpster at Aroma’s.” He shrugs. “The vet thinks he’s only about a year and a half old, but I’m guessing he’s lived a hard life so far.”
The poor baby.
“He likessomepeople,” Riley feels the need to assure me when my face falls. “He’s a big softie with my mom and me.”
“Well, that’s what’s important.”
He nods.
“Can I see the picture?”
“Oh! Yeah.” He takes two more steps, closing the remaining distance between us as he digs in his rear pocket for his phone.
And again, I allow it—invitedit, even.
He opens to his camera roll and holds the phone out to me, leaning over to narrate what I’m seeing as I scroll through picture after picture of an adorable little scruffy white and black dog in various positions of relaxation. There he is curled up in a cushy dog bed—his favorite of several, I’m told—then perched on Nora’s lap on the couch, where they apparently like to watch soaps together. There’s one of him chewing a bone in the backyard—he prefers the rawhides from Pet Paradise. And finally, there he is sprawled out on a human-sized mattress in what can only be Riley’s room. The shot is cropped close, so I can’t see any of the surroundings, but I can visualize the trophy shelf, the captain’s jersey hung on the wall with ‘WALKER’ across the back. Does it still look like that? It’s hard to imagine this large man standing before me, this ideal specimen of mature masculinity, sleeping in his childhood bedroom.
And why am I imagining him in a bedroom at all?
An image of Riley spread across the mattress, his naked chest exposed and displaying those enigmatic tattoos, pops into my head, and I give myself an internal smack.
You arenotgoing there again.
He’s just so … big, though. So overwhelming. Consuming, in the sexiest way, dammit. Even now, his presence seems to eat up all the space in the room, and I’m entirely too aware of his proximity to me, the heat radiating off his body. I suck in a deep breath—and the intangible yet comforting scent of him that hasn’t changed.
Quit it, Steph!
“He’s adorable,” I murmur, searching for something to say to distract me from the lingering image of Riley in bed. “Looks like maybe there’s some terrier in him.”
“Definitely,” he agrees.
“What’s his name?”
“Connor.”
“Ohh, I love—”
“When animals have human names? I remember,” he says softly, watching me with so much emotion flickering in his eyes. Emotion I’m absolutely not prepared to deal with.
I blush and pass the phone back to him. Riley’s fingers graze against mine as he accepts it … and I get a physical shock yet again. My breath hitches. It’s just like when we’d touched—
But I cut off the thought.
It’s just static, I tell myself.
The room is dry.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I know it’s time to get out of here. I can’t have a repeat of the other night, no matter how civil we’re managing to be.
“I have to get back to work,” I say, moving to step around him.
“Wait, Steph,” he reaches out to halt my momentum, and I shrink back, unwilling to let him touch me once more.
He drops his hand with a reluctant sigh. “Please, can we just—” He rubs the back of his neck in frustration before trying again. “You didn’t answer me about meeting up to talk. Not tonight, I know that doesn’t work, but maybe—”
“We just talked.”
“But I have things I still need to say to you. About … back then.”
