Tiger and I settled into a routine at the fire station. Every morning we ran side by side on treadmills. When I wasn’t doing my other fire house duties I studied for my next exam or worked on presentation tricks with Tiger.

He had stop, drop, roll, and his army crawl down on top of all the usual things dogs learned like sit, shake, and heel. He loved doing tricks. He wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a lot of energy and needed to stay busy. The treadmill helped a lot, and he loved being able to see everything going on while getting his exercise at the same time.

The guys at the station loved him. I think every single one of them had a selfie with Tiger on their social media sites.

However, nothing was the same without Oscar.

That last night, when I gave him the key — I knew I had to stay away. He didn’t want a relationship. He’d told me that when we started down that path, and I had to respect that and not push him into something he wasn’t ready for. He said it couldn’t mean anything, so it couldn’t mean anything. Besides, he deserved someone better than me.

I chewed on my pencil and looked up out the windows running along the top of the outside wall. They let in so much natural light, and always showed the status of the sky. Today it was gray but bright. Maybe it would rain? I wondered what Oscar’s property looked like in the fall. But I wasn’t going to drive by and find out.

“Hayes,” the fire chief’s voice boomed into the room.

“Yes sir!” I called back. Why did he have to yell?

“In my office,” echoed his reply.

“Yes sir!” I hauled my sorry ass out of my chair and whistled for Tiger. He immediately trotted to my side and walked with me into the office.

“Please sit down,” the chief said.

I sat and snapped my fingers for Tiger to sit too. He sat and then looked up at me. I gave him the hand signal to lay down and he inched his way to the floor and laid his head on his paws.

The chief watched all this with interest. “You’ve done good things with that dog,” he said.

“Thank you sir!” I smiled at him. “He’s a busy guy, but I think we are figuring everything out.”

“Is he ready to do a safety presentation?” he leaned over his desk and looked Tiger over, like he was an athlete in a tryout line.

“I think so. I would like to do one for the station, as a run through, and then another one maybe for families of the firemen. You know, kind of a friendly audience before we take the show on the road.”

I reached down and ran my knuckles along Tiger’s sleek head. He was so smooth. His coat was like teflon or something. He could run through mud or dirty water, shake himself off, and be perfectly white and clean. And anything that didn’t just run off him, he obsessively cleaned until he was sparkling white. I didn’t know dogs could be so fastidious, but Finn told me that it must be a dalmatian thing.

“A practice presentation sounds like a good idea,” the chief said. He sat down in his chair and tipped back, touching his fingers together. “I was thinking maybe he could do a little demonstration at our auction night. He could be part of the entertainment.”

A room full of people all eating dinner, people going in and out, and wearing fancy dress? This would be a high pressure environment for Tiger. Could he do it? I looked down at him and turned my hand over to pet his fur with my palm. I ran my hand the full length of his slick rapidly growing body.

“Okay,” I said, taking a leap of faith. “Why not? He can be part of the host act before we get to the auction.”

The chief rocked in his seat, making the mechanism squeak with his motion. “I want you to know I am extremely impressed with the way you have taken on your studies.”

I don’t know why this embarrassed me. “Thank you sir,” I muttered. Now was probably as good a time as any to tell him. “About all that, I found out I probably have dyslexia.”

The chief’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. “Oh really? I’m sorry to hear that, I think?”

I rubbed my hands on my thighs, feeling the thick fabric of my work pants with my fingers and palms. “Don’t be sorry. I mean it sucks, of course, but now I know why I didn’t like to read and I’ve found ways to make it easier. I haven’t had an official diagnosis yet, but a friend noticed, and all the things that help with it really help with me, so…”

“That’s great,” the chief said. “You know, you’re not the first man to tell me he had this issue.”

His reply caught me off guard. “Oh.” I stammered. “Uh, well, I found out that sometimes reprinting the stuff in an easier to read font, or reformatting it so it’s left justified, really helps me read it.”

“Please feel free to use the computer equipment however you need to make it work for you,” the chief said. “I had a guy who also used the text to speech and the speech to text. The computer could read to him, and he could compose documents by dictating them.” He gave me a warm smile, and I remembered again that the chief was on my side.

“I didn’t know we could do that here. Thank you sir.” I felt humbled. I was a jackass pushing back against this good man earlier. “I’m sorry I was being difficult earlier.”

“No problem,” he said. He spread his enormous hands out on front of himself. “Dyslexia is a perfect explanation. If you need me to help with the way some of the tests are administered, or if you need more time to take them, let me know and I’ll help you figure it out.”

I stared at the floor. “I don’t want any special treatment I don’t deserve,” I said.

“This isn’t special treatment. It’s equal treatment. And you’re a damn fine fireman. A lot of amazing and successful people have dyslexia, and I count you as one of them.”

I looked up at the picture of my adopted father, smiling out under his fire hat. The chief noticed and said, “Your father was a good man.”

“Yeah, he was,” I said. I wondered if he would be proud of me, of the changes I’d made. But another part of me realized, he’d known I had it in me all along.

“Hey,” the chief said, ducking his head down and up to catch my eye.

I dragged my gaze to his. “Yeah?”

“You’re a good man too,” he said. “I hope someday you realize that.”

A weird warmth spread a healing heat over that old painful place inside me. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now before you go, let’s walk through the logistics of this auction one more time.”

We spent the better part of the afternoon doing just that. The auction was Saturday and included a formal dinner first. I would be just fine, as long as I knew my script, and didn’t have to read a lot of things on the spot.

When the day arrived, I was ready. My suit was cleaned, I knew everything I was going to say, and Tiger had all his tricks down. But the question haunted the back of my mind. Would Oscar be there?

Would I see him again?

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I never stopped thinking about him. But he was maintaining radio silence, so I was too. Maybe he was helping his new tenant get moved in. Maybe he was busy making videos and training more dogs.

I tried not to, but I went to his YouTube channel. He was working with a new dog, someone from the shelter. He did a shelter tour, but I could barely listen to what he said.

I just watched him move. I admired his lanky frame, shown off in those fitted skinny jeans, and smiled to see him wearing a violet t-shirt. His t-shirt collection was like an Easter basket — one bright pastel after another.

At one point he looked at the camera and smiled, flipping his hair out of his eyes. My heart caught in my throat. I felt like a fucking stalker, watching him like this, but he wanted viewers right? I would only be a stalker if I drove by his place or parked across the street or something. I did neither of those things, but I missed him so much, I would have if I didn’t know how creepy and weird it was. I just wanted to see him.

The night before the auction, I went out for beers with the guys. I sat by Kai, and he showed me pictures of his dog. “Do you think Oscar could train my dog too?” he said.

I shrugged. “Probably. He’s really good at it. Though I think he’s training shelter dogs right now.”

“Can you ask him?” Kai said.

“Probably not,” I said. “We don’t really talk anymore.” I stared down into my beer, the amber liquid obscured my fingers through the glass.

“Oh my god, is that why you’ve been such a downer lately?” Mitch said.

“Shut up, Mitch,” Finn said. “Jesus, kick a man while he’s down why don’t you?”

“Does that mean I can ask him out?” Thane said.

I looked up from my glass and fixed him with an even gaze. “Only if you want me to kick your ass.”

Thane dropped his gaze and blushed at my reply. “Ooooooh!” the group said.

“If you’re still hung up on him, why aren’t you talking to him?” Mitch said.

“It’s complicated.”

“How? Whenever someone says it’s complicated, it almost never is. Complicated is an excuse for not having they balls to go after what you want,” Finn said.

I had no reply to that so I sat silently. Was it complicated? Finally I said, “I have no idea. He said he wasn’t ready for anything and we all know I’m no catch so…”

“What the actual fuck?” Finn interrupted. I dragged my gaze to his. He looked angry, actually angry. “I know I give you a hard time, but you’re my brother, okay?”

The other guys nodded. “Yep, brothers.”

“Brothers get to give each other shit and beat on each other sometimes.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Well you do now,” Finn said. His fury had not subsided. “I saw you two together. Don’t sell yourself short. Something like that only comes along once in a lifetime. You find it, you hold it, and you do not let that shit go!”

“Dude, keep your voice down,” Mitch said. “Jesus. Are we on Oprah?”

Finn turned his fury toward Mitch. “Shut up. This matters.”

He had my attention. “What do you propose I do? Just go to his house and throw him over my shoulder?”

Some of the guys laughed. Finn tipped his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “You could, I don’t know — talk to him?”

I laughed. “God, I’m such a pussy,” I said. Why hadn’t I? Because he’d already told me he was done, that what we had going on was just a temporary fling. I took him at his word. But Finn was right. What we had was bigger than that.

“Nope, no pussy in this equation,” Finn said evenly, holding back a smirk. Mitch and Thane laughed out loud and high fived each other. “Stop saying you don’t deserve him. That is the lamest shit I’ve ever heard. Go get your man!”

“I can’t do anything until I get this auction over with,” I said. I took a sip of my beer and felt the bubbles tickle my skin. I may have held the glass up extra long to hide my face.

“You’re so full of it,” Finn said.

“No, really,” I sighed. It was true. Memorizing the event and trying to figure out every scenario where I might have to read had me stretched.

Finn studied my face. “Okay, but that’s tomorrow. So, next time we are here having beers, you’d better have an update. And no more bullshit about how you aren’t good enough. Jesus!”

I smiled at him. “You know, you really are a good friend,” I said.

His cheeks turned pink and he scowled at me. “Shut up, Hayes. And grow some balls.” He picked up the pitcher and poured me and himself more beer. He held up his glass. “To Rhett’s balls!”

“Balls!” everyone shouted. We clinked our glasses together and drank.

I knew what I had to do. That night I went to Oscar’s house, but the whole place was dark. I pulled the invitation out of my pocket and wedged it in the door. If he wasn’t already invited to the fireman’s dinner and auction, he was now.

But would he show?