“I had fun,” Rex said, rocking on the balls of his feet. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and I couldn’t help but feel cheated that he didn’t use them to grab my face and pull me close to his. I shouldn’t be this disappointed that he didn’t kiss me.
“I did too. We should do this again sometime.”
He smiled at me. “It’s a date.” And then he turned away and set off for his car, taking my shot at a kiss with him.
Maybe next time, I told myself as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I did my best to leave my disappointment on the doorstep, but it followed me upstairs and clung to my mood like Velcro.
Maybe next time.
ELEVEN
REX
The kissI never indulged in lingered in my mind, rapidly forming into a regret that I wasn’t allowed to have. Perry was already doing me a huge favor, and sure, it came with strings, but those strings definitely didn’t include kissing him. The date was real, but the relationship wasn’t and that was a hard thing for my brain to wrap itself around.
I shouldn’t be obsessing about it the way I was, but the moment had been perfect. The night had been quiet and still, like it was holding its breath, waiting for me to make a move. And I tried not to think of the look on Perry’s face because it was perilously close to looking like disappointment.
Besides, even if I’d kissed him, it was unlikely that Perry would want to be my boyfriend for real. No one wanted to be with a man who frequently put animals above everyone else. Case in point, I’d just texted my brother to meet me at the vet clinic for Sunday morning coffee instead of the diner that we’d agreed on because I’d gotten an emergency patient the nightbefore, and I was still at work, monitoring the Smiths’ precious Persian.
When I let Nigel in, he’d brought with him a couple cups of coffee and a bag containing breakfast. Danish, my dachshund cross, followed Nigel faithfully as we trekked back to my office. Danish loved Nigel almost as much as he loved the little bits of breakfast Nigel would sneak him when he thought I wasn’t looking.
“Please say you didn’t sleep here.” Nigel wrinkled his nose but more out of worry than disgust.
“Then I won’t say it,” I said, plucking the coffee from his grasp. “What’s in the bag? I’m half starved.”
Nigel set the bag down on the desk. “Breakfast sandwiches from Bennett’s,” he said as he dug into the bag and handed me a carefully wrapped sausage and egg sandwich.
“Hell, yes. You do love me.”
Nigel sat down in the chair opposite my desk and looked around at my office as Danish sat near his feet, whining quietly from time to time. I knew what Nigel was thinking. My office was too small, too cluttered, not modern enough. I made do with what I had, which meant I had an old teacher’s desk that I’d purchased for cheap after the closure of a local elementary school. The paint on the walls was chipped in a few places and could use a touchup, but they were only walls. They were doing their job just fine, chipped paint or not.
The one indulgence I’d made was my chair. It had cost me a mint, but it was comfortable enough to recline and sleep in, so long as I didn’t do it too often.
“Your poor boyfriend must hate this place.”
Nigel hadn’t meant for the barb to hit as hard as it did, but it stung. Probably because it was accurate.
“Did you spend the whole weekend here again?” He tore off a small chunk of sausage and lowered it down for Danish to gobble up.
“Just last night and this morning.”
“You’re too soft. You’re allowed to have a life, you know.”
“I’m too soft, says the man who can’t say no to a greedy little dachshund. Besides, Nigel, I couldn’t say no. Pickles needed fluids and round-the-clock monitoring.”
“I just worry that you’re sacrificing your life for people’s housepets.”
Nigel loved animals, but he didn’t understand that I was willing to put myself second to put animals first. It wasn’t that he was selfish, he just had different priorities. I think it was because of how he was raised. Part of him must secretly feel like I’d sacrificed something to help Mom raise him. But I hadn’t done anything I wasn’t willing to do.
“Pickles got a kid through chemo, Nigel. She’s more than just a housepet.”
He paled and had the decency to look sufficiently regretful.
“Besides, the right man would appreciate the work I do and embrace it.” Perry came to mind immediately, and I tried not to think too hard about the way he’d asked if I needed anything when he found out I was crashing at the clinic last night. He didn’t ask if I was sure I had to or wanted to. He just offered to bring me snacks. I’d told him I had a stash in my office drawer for just such an occasion. Part of me had wanted him to stop by anyway, but in the end, it was better that he didn’t.
“And this boyfriend, do you think he’s the right kind of man?” Nigel took a bite of his sandwich, glancing down at Danish, who was still staring up at him with his big, hopeful eyes.
“I think so. I mean, Perry has a good heart. It’s still new, but time will tell, I guess.”
