Page 19 of Not Until I Found You

She shakes her head at me right as Sven jumps between us, demanding her attention. What’s with my dog’s attraction to this woman? Can’t say I blame him, but seriously, he needs to get a grip on himself.

“Sven loves everyone, but I think he loves you a little extra.”

She grins, steadying him with both hands. “Maybe he can sense people’s energies. I love animals and always show them respect, so maybe I’m putting off the right vibes.”

I raise a brow. “So you’re telling me Sven somehow sniffed out your moral code?”

“Exactly.” She scratches behind his ears. “He knows I’m safe.”

Safe.

The word hangs between us and I almost laugh, because everything about her feels like the exact opposite. Safe doesn’t make conversation this easy. Safe doesn’t draw me in without even trying. Safe doesn’t make me want to push against the walls I’ve spent years building around my heart. All of that is dangerous.

I shift my weight, dragging a hand through my hair before gripping the edge of the counter, needing the extra grounding. She glances up, her grin still soft, and I force myself to look away, busying my hands with my coffee mug. Anything to distract me from the thought that she already seems like a risk I can’t afford to take.

And why should she? We haven’t even known each other for twenty-four hours.

“Safe?” I glance at the way Sven has practically melted into her side. “More like he’s ready to pack his bags and move in with you.”

I expect her to tilt her head back and laugh at my comment, but instead, she wilts. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I won’t be staying for long.”

Her chin dips ever so slightly, and when she meets my eyes again, there’s a tenderness that wasn’t there a moment ago. Just like that, her confidence from earlier evaporates, leaving me standing in the quiet with a joke I suddenly wish I hadn’t made.

“You’re—” I start, ready to try and backpedal, when she cuts in fast, redirecting.

“So how did he get the name Sven? I don’t think I’ve heard that name for a pet before.”

“I take it you’ve not watched the movie Frozen?”

“Is that the one with the ice-skating penguins?” she asks, brow furrowed.

I blink. “That’s Happy Feet.”

“Oh. Right.” She grins sheepishly, scratching Sven’s ear. “Close enough. It has the same vibes.”

“It’s not even a little bit the same.” I bite back a laugh. “My niece is obsessed with the movie. When I adopted Sven, it was around Christmas. I was still trying to come up with a name for him, and one day, Annabelle placed some reindeer antlers onto his head and said that he looked like Sven from Frozen. The name fit since he’s loyal and kind of clumsy. So it stuck.”

She looks down at Sven. “Yeah, I can see that. Loyal and clumsy checks out.”

“Don’t forget food-obsessed,” I add, right as Sven lets out a huff and noses her hand for more attention.

I sip my coffee, hoping it’ll help to drown out the ache crawling up my throat as I steal another glance at her when I shouldn’t. It’s almost too much, having her in my space, being able to notice her like this. Maxinne laughs as Sven barrels into her legs, and something inside me shifts.

I can’t pinpoint what it is exactly, but it could be because I recognize a part of myself in her. The way heartbreak lingers around the edges of a person, even when they’re trying their hardest not to let it define them. Whatever it is, there’s something about her that keeps pulling my attention, no matter how many times I tell myself to look away.

What is going on with me?

She smiles as Sven licks her hand, completely unaware of the storm she’s stirring within me. A honk breaks through the silence, causing Maxinne and me to jump. It takes me a second too long to remember that it’s Ashton, here to pick me up. I look down, knowing full well I should be dressed for work by now, but I’m not.

“Your brother will keep honking until I come out, so I should probably throw some work clothes on.”

Both of her brows lift in surprise as she nods her head. “Sure.”

I rush into my bedroom and tug on some jeans and a t-shirt before dragging my fingers through my hair in a half-hearted attempt to put myself together. I hear the front door creak open, then the sound of Ashton’s heavy footsteps marching inside, until they pause abruptly. I freeze, halfway through buttoning my shirt, when I hear his voice booming from the kitchen.

“Maxie? What are you doing here?”

I picture his frown, and my gut twists tighter, understanding that he’s found his little sister in pajamas, barefoot in my kitchen, first thing in the morning. This is going to look…really bad. Jesus, I’m going to need you to take the wheel here.