Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
A shuddery breath seems to ghost across her lips, then she shakes it off. “I’m glad you like your temporary roommate,” Trina says, petting Nacho too. The little dude pants harder. “I think he’s tired though.”
I glance toward the gate. “Can I walk him on the way back?” I ask, sounding like an eager kid. And I kind of am.
“Sure. What’s the deal with you and dogs? You’re kind of obsessed. Like more than I am,” she says as we leave the park and she hands me his leash.
I sure am, and there’s one reason for it. I take the leash, keeping a tight grip on my new buddy, who takes the lead on the sidewalk. “My dad was a veterinarian. He loved all animals, but especially dogs, so we always had them growing up. But our last dog passed away shortly before my dad did.”
Trina looks my way with gentle eyes. “I’m sorry about your dad, Chase,” she says, sympathy flooding her tone. “That must have been so hard on you. And on your mom.”
“Yeah, it was,” I say, downplaying that terrible year, the damage to my heart, the way I changed. The way I had to change. “And after, she decided not to get another dog. She was too busy with my little brothers and raising them solo.”
“A dog would’ve just been more work for her, she probably figured, and she was probably grieving still, adjusting to a new life she never expected,” Trina says thoughtfully, understanding my family just like that.
Maybe that’s why it’s easy for me to keep talking when I don’t usually get into the nitty-gritty. “When I was younger, my dad and I would go on long walks together in the evening with Bandit, and I’d tell him about school and the team and practices, and well, just life and stuff while Bandit trotted ahead of us, sniffing everything. I liked those times.”
“I can tell. That’s a nice memory,” she says with obvious affection as we stroll past a thrift store with boxy army jackets in the window.
I let the fond memories roll past me for another few seconds, then say, “He was a cool one. Part Border Collie, part cheetah. Fastest dog ever. Dad loved him too and he kept us busy.”
“Sounds like you two had a lot of fun with him and got to spend some good times together because of him,” she says as we turn onto California Street while twilight wraps its arms around the city.
“Yeah. We did. Someday, it’d be nice to have another Bandit, or a Nacho,” I say, wistful, then I shake that off too. “But it’s hard to have a dog since I’m on the road so much. That’s why I still try to volunteer as much as I can. It’s important to me, and it was to my dad too,” I say, and wow. Do I sound like I’m tooting my own horn or what? I shift my focus to her. “Why does your sister think you can’t handle a dog?”
Trina sighs, a little resigned. “She thinks I can’t handle anything. Like, say, life. But maybe she’s not wrong. I mean, I’ve lived in three places in the last month. My douchey ex’s, my bestie’s couch, and now with a guy I met…um, last night,” she says with a wince. “She might be right.”
Nope. No way. Not gonna let her doubt herself. “Your ex was a world-class asshole. He never deserved you, and you got the hell out the second you learned the truth. That takes guts. Hell, it takes serious ovaries, and you have them, Trina,” I say, giving her a pep talk she didn’t ask for but that I feel compelled to give. “And you take care of this awesome dog and look out for him and hold down a cool job. All while dealing with the aftermath of a shitty breakup. That’s a lot.”
And so is a breakup, so I add, “It’s not easy dealing with the end of a relationship. My ex was a piece of work too, and sometimes you just need to take it easy and not expect too much of yourself. Know what I mean?”
She takes a beat, then nods. “Thanks for saying that. Cassie got on my case earlier this evening, so I think I needed to hear something nice.”
“If you ever need a pep talk, I’m your guy. It takes time to get over someone—even the jerks. I mean, I wasn’t in love with my ex. Romance wasn’t my jam to start with, but still, the whole experience soured me on romance even more,” I admit.
She shoots me a sad smile. “You and me both.”
We knock fists in relationship solidarity, but that’s not the solidarity I truly want.
I’m dying to know what she thinks about another night, but I’ve already decided to wait for Ryker. Instead, I jump over to an easier convo—the auction for the jerseys and gear Trina bought for her ex. I had the jersey signed by my teammates today, and Ryker did the same with his jacket, so we made plans to auction them off online this week, then give the money to her favorite rescue—the place where she got Nacho from.