“Please stop slobbering on my face, King,” I mumbled as the German shepherd licked my cheek. This frisky, fluffy dog was nothing like the stray I’d brought into the shelter three weeks ago.
His coat glistened with health, and his eyes were bright with mischief. All he’d needed was a little affection and lots of food. He was a completely different animal now than the creature I’d found starving next to that dumpster. I had high hopes we’d be able to adopt him out eventually. While the thought of him leaving gave me a sad pang, I knew it would be better for him to find a forever home than to live in the back of the clinic.
I slipped the lead over his head and led him from the back into the clinic so we could go for a short walk and I could grab a late lunch.
“You boys heading out?” Patty asked cheerfully as I walked past her desk. She grinned as the dog tugged on the leash. “Who’s walking whom?”
I smiled and patted the dog’s head. “He’s kind of excited.”
“I can see that.”
As I neared the front door, it opened and a middle-aged woman came in carrying Pinky. My stomach somersaulted at the sight of the little dog, bringing back memories of Lance. I’d actually been trying to get out of the shop early, just in case Lance was the one bringing the dog back for its visit. I felt a little embarrassed at how I’d bitten the poor guy’s head off.
I held the door for her, and she smiled warmly at me. “Oh, thank you.” She had the same golden-brown eyes that her son had.
“No problem.” I left the shop and headed down to 50th W 72nd Street to Le Pain Quotidien. I loved the restaurant, not just because it had delicious food, but also because it had a dog-friendly patio where I could bring King and not have to worry about getting dirty looks.
When the server arrived, she patted King and took my order of vegetable quiche made with spinach, leeks, mushrooms, and Gruyère. I’d had about ten cups of coffee already so I stuck with water. It was cheaper that way too. Rent was due tomorrow, and even though I had a roommate to help me with the $1300-a-month rent on my studio apartment, things were tight lately. I’d been trying to pay for a lot of King’s shots and food just so it wasn’t only Dr. Hazelton having to foot the bill for his upkeep. After all, I was the one who’d found the dog and brought him to the clinic. I felt responsible.
There were lots of other dogs on the patio, and I watched carefully to see how King interacted. I was pleased to see he was friendly to both humans and other canines. Being social made his chances of being adopted much better.
The server had just set my food in front of me when I looked up and locked eyes with a guy walking up onto the patio of the restaurant. When I recognized it was Lance, my heart almost stopped. My first instinct was to look away and pretend I didn’t see him. But it was really too late for that since he’d looked right at me. My face flushed with heat, and when I checked again, Lance was still staring at me. He stopped next to me, and he looked as rattled and unsure of what to do as I was.
“Um… Scottie, right?” He attempted a tight smile.
“Hey.” I couldn’t even fake a bad smile.
King jumped up and licked Lance’s chin, and he laughed. His grin made his entire face relax, and he looked less grim. “Hi, buddy.” He stroked the dog’s head, still smiling warmly at the animal. “You’re a friendly one.” He rubbed King’s ears affectionately.
I was surprised at how warm he was to the dog. It kind of threw me a little. I’d expected him to be more uptight about a strange dog slobbering all over his face. “You can push him away if you want.” My voice was gruff.
Lance scowled. “I don’t want to push him away.”
I shrugged.
“Is this your dog?” His tone was disbelieving, as if he doubted I could possibly have such a friendly dog.
I wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. “He’s kind of mine.” Lance’s dimples reappeared, and against my will my pulse fluttered. “What I mean is I found him.”
“Ahh.”
“I’m taking care of him so he can find a home.”
“Well, that’s decent of you.” He watched King as the dog lay down again at my feet.
I flushed. “Anyone would do that.”
“Pfft. No. Not actually.” He bit his lip and flicked his gaze to mine. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he hesitated.
I stared at my quiche, afraid to try and eat in case my hands shook. Lance definitely set my nerves on edge and made me feel tongue-tied. He shifted his feet, and I was surprised to feel a faint regret that he was leaving so soon. I didn’t like him. Why would I care if he left? I should be relieved.
“I love the waffles with berries and cream here,” he volunteered.
“Yeah, they’re really delicious.” I was just glad someone had said something to end the awkward silence.
His lips twitched at my passionate response. “We have something in common.”
“I guess.” I gave a weak smile.
“Two things, actually; we both like dogs and waffles.”
“We’re a match made in Heaven,” I said dryly.
He grinned, and his eyes warmed. He glanced at the extra chair at my table. “Would you yell at me if I joined you?”
Oh, my fucking God. I’m going to have a stroke.
“Wha-what?” He wanted to sit with me? My heart banged in my chest, and all trace of my appetite evaporated.
He exhaled roughly. “Look, I wanted to apologize for coming on so strong the other day.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather boa. He was apologizing to me? I stared at him in surprise. “You do?”
His cheeks were painted pink. “I’m a huge flirt.” He shrugged. “I meant no harm.”
He couldn’t possibly understand why I’d been so angry at him the other day. He couldn’t know that his aggressive flirting had brought up painful memories of another time in my life when I’d been used for another person’s amusement. I watched him warily, uncertain of how to respond to his apology.
He bit his lower lip. “You were at work, and I should have known better than to be inappropriate.”
The server came up at that exact moment and there was an awkward pause where she stared at us, as if trying to figure out if she should take Lance’s order or not. He grimaced and then planted his ass in the chair next to me. His leg brushed mine and a spark of awareness zipped up my thigh. My stomach clenched and I sat up straighter, trying to school my face into some semblance of a normal expression.
“Is it cool if I sit here?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Lance must have taken my silence as an okay, because he ordered an iced tea and a salad, and when the server left, he faced me. “What I’m trying to say is, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I swallowed. “Okay.” It took a lot of courage to apologize. I had to respect that he had the balls to do it. Now I felt kind of dumb, like maybe I’d overreacted the other day. He hadn’t really done anything horrible. He’d just wanted my number. I grimaced. “Maybe I was too touchy.”
He laughed and some tension left his shoulders. “Probably not. I was kind of a pushy ass.” He grinned.
My heart squeezed at his pretty smile, and I took a big gulp of my water, hoping to cool myself down. It was a warm day, and now that Lance was sitting next to me, it felt even hotter. “Let’s just forget it.”
“Really?” He sounded like a kid who’d just found out they were getting to go to Disneyland. “That would be awesome.”
The server returned with his tea and salad. Lance didn’t seem to notice I hadn’t touched my food. He dug into his with gusto, and so that allowed me to relax enough to take a bite of my quiche too.
“I live down on 64th Street so I come to this place a lot.” He sipped his tea, watching me over the rim.
I whistled. “The rent isn’t cheap around here.”
“No.” He widened his eyes. “It is not.”
“I’m over in Flatbush.” I wasn’t going to pretend we were in the same tax bracket. I didn’t have the stomach for it. “And even then I have to have a roomie to make it work.”
He frowned. “There’s no shame in having a roommate.”
I didn’t respond. I cut off another piece of quiche with my fork. I was aware of his scrutiny, but I didn’t look up. Whenever I met his honey-colored eyes, weird things happened to my body.
He cleared his throat and set his fork down. “I feel like you think I’m judging you. I’m not. I work as a bartender.”
I glanced up. He looked so put together, I’d expected him to be a stockbroker or something. “Where?”
“West Side.”
I snorted. “Naturally.”
“Look, if I’m not going to judge you, it goes both ways.”
I arched one brow. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Friends don’t judge one another.”
I wrinkled my brow. “We’re friends now?”
“Why not?” He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “We have so much in common.”
I held up my fingers. “Two things exactly.”
“Two very important things. Food and dogs. I mean, if you didn’t like either one of those that would be a deal breaker for me.” I couldn’t help it and I laughed. He looked pleased and his eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Plus, I have no doubt we have even more things in common. But we have to get to know each other better to discover what they are.”
I squinted at him. “What are you doing?”
He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know… but I feel like you’re up to something.” I was surprised by this light hearted side of him. If I was honest, I found it intriguing. I’d assumed he was just a horny prick the other day, and now he was sitting at my table making me rethink everything.
“I’m trying something new.”
“Which is?”
“I’m trying to make a friend.” He dropped his gaze and his expression was circumspect.
“I would think a guy like you has friends coming out his ears.”
He shrugged and met my gaze squarely. “I don’t actually. I have a shit load of lovers.”
I had no idea why, but when he said that I instinctively covered my scar. He frowned and looked puzzled by my action. I dropped my hand, but it was too late really. He’d already seen me try to cover my scar. Maybe it was the word ‘lover’ that made me self-conscious. I wasn’t sure, but now I was twice as embarrassed. If anything I’d drawn attention to my imperfection.
“I don’t care about your scar,” he said softly.
Heat painted my face. “Right.”
“I mean it.”
“I don’t do friends,” I blurted out.
He grimaced. “When you say you don’t do friends…” He winced. “Well, given my behavior when we first met, I just want to understand what you mean.”
I widened my eyes, mortified. “No,” I said in a strangled voice. “I mean I don’t… you know… make friends usually.”
“Okay.” He laughed. “I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”
King stood up as if getting restless, and I glanced at my phone, realizing it was time to get back to the clinic. I got up and Lance stayed seated. I reached for my wallet and he held out his hand. “Let me get lunch.”
“No.” I scowled.
“Please? I’d like to buy my new friend lunch.”
I didn’t like charity, but he seemed to sincerely want to pay. “You mean your only friend?”
He grinned, sending another round of warm ripples through my body. “The pot calling the kettle black, I think, Scottie.”
I bit my lip to stop from smiling. “You sure this is a good idea? Two people who have no ability to make friends befriending each other?”
“I don’t see what it could hurt.” He laughed. “It might be nice to hang out with a guy and not have to perform for once.”
I laughed nervously and tightened my grip on King’s leash. “Well, thank you for lunch.” As I walked away, I glanced back at him. His expression was a mixture of pleasure and utter confusion, which perfectly matched my own emotions.