“So? You coming? Or would you rather…” I trail off as I gesture toward the TV and around the living room, indicating that he is welcome to stay here. I should probably prefer that. I’m not sure how to act around him after everything that happened over the past weeks. I still have the undeniable urge to roll my eyes whenever he opens his mouth. But I also want to smash our lips together before I punch him in the face.
The kissing part—that’s definitely a recent development. However, I could use a distraction from my trip to social media hell.
“Do you have any treats around here?” he asks as he gets up from his place on the floor, causing me to huff.
“If you think you can manipulate my dog into liking you better–”
“I thought it was your neighbors’ dog?”
“Don’t deflect, Hart!”
“Xander.”
I come to an abrupt stop behind him when he halts in the doorway. Hart has turned around to me, leveling me with a stare out of his blue eyes.
“What?” I ask mindlessly. We’re too close again. This house is so fucking big, and yet he’s always just a few inches away.
“You wanted to call meXander,” he reminds me. There’s a small smirk playing around the corners of his lips when he raises his hand, emphasizing the last part with a gentle tap to my forehead.
I stare when he winks at me before disappearing into the hallway.
“Don’t forget the treats!” he calls out a moment later, and I groan in annoyance.
This. Fucking. Guy!
***
Unfortunately, Coach is far too well-behaved to bite Hart in the ankle.
I’ve driven us to one of the forest trails close by. With the fresh snow, everyone is out skating or sledging, and when we don’t encounter a single soul for twenty minutes, I decide to free Coach of his leash.
“So that wasn’t just made up?” Hart’s voice is scratchy from the long silence that spread between us. Not that I could have forgotten about his presence—the trail is narrow and our shoulders bump together every other step.
“Huh?” I ask, my eyes fixed on the German Shepherd happily leading us around. Coach is used to long and frequent walks with Greg, and I’m always glad to offer my time when I’m home.
“You really like dogs; you didn’t just make that up,” Hart points out, and I snort.
“Why would I make that up? If anything, I should have tried harder to deter you from going to the dog pound in order to keep up the act,” I tell him. And I tried, but the chance of spending an hour walking a dog was too tempting after all. “Also, seeing you get bossed around by a ten-inch animal was definitely worth it.”
Hart narrows his eyes at me, but his features smooth over quickly when Coach turns around, proudly presenting us a new stick he found. I’m already carrying three of his recent finds so Hart takes it from him, praising him excessively.
“You know, I’ve been back there. Lila and I are thick as thieves now,” he tells me when Coach has disappeared into the undergrowth again.
“Liar. My good girl would never betray me like that. Linden said she still scares you.” I grin smugly, causing him to roll his eyes.
“Birds of a feather flock together—you’re both short and aggressive, no wonder you got along so well.”
“Asshole!” I push against his shoulder, causing him to stumble into the brush that seams the trail.
Hart laughs as the snow falls from the delicate branches, powdering his black hair and shoulders. The sound alerts Coach, his dark muzzle peeking out of the scrubs.
“Ha–Xanderis being an ass again,” I tell the dog, but he doesn’t seem to get the problem so he turns around to disappear once more.
“I’m perfectly average sized, six feet and all!”
“5’11″ according to your stats,” Hart corrects me dryly.
“You read my stats?” I narrow my eyes at him, but he just shrugs.
