Otis didn’t have a chip in him, and neither the vet nor the local animal shelters had heard of anyone missing a Rottweiler. He’s all mine, it seems. Aside from needing to be fed regularly, he’s also healthy. The vet thinks he’s about a year old. The poor fella is still a puppy, practically! I love animals, but I haven’t had a pet since I was a kid and that was a cat. I don’t know a thing about Rottweilers other than what they look like and that they are supposed to be super protective of their owners. At least, I think that’s right.
What I do know about Otis is that baths are his enemy, he’s super smart, and he does not like his bed; he prefers mine. I’m working on training him to sleep in his, or at the very least, at the foot of mine, but I always wake up to find him with his head on the pillow next to mine. Like he’s a human! It cracks me up and makes me smile, so how much can I really complain? I’m still working on making him listen to me, though.
I bought a crate, but his big ass refused to go in and when I tried to help him along, he went crazy the moment he was inside and quickly escaped. Scared the hell out of me to see him scared. I don’t know what happened to him, but I refuse to leave him in the crate. He hasn’t used the bathroom in the house. However, four of the new toys I bought him are now without their stuffing. I’m thinking he may need a morning jog to run off some energy; it’ll help keep me in shape too.
So far, he only has one major bad habit.
Otis has fallen in love with me. When I come home, he runs over and jumps up to place his paws on my chest. He’s already huge and he nearly knocks me on my ass every time if I don’t grab onto something. He’s supposed to weigh at least ninety pounds at this age; I really need to curb this before he gains his healthy weight back.
Otherwise, I’m in love. He’s kept me so busy that I haven’t missed Zane or Brayden that much. I haven’t had the time!
My phone vibrates on the coffee table and Otis leans forward to sniff the thing making noise. I grab it.
Brayden: What’s your address?
Why does he need to know that? No one ever comes to my house.
But...
What if he’s back in town? I do know where his spare key is and his alarm code. I can give him something in return, can’t I?
Before I overthink it, I respond with my address. An hour later, Otis suddenly jumps off the couch and stands at the door, growling low in his throat. I stand just as there’s a knock, which makes him bark.
“It’s okay, Otis.” I pat his head and step in front of him. “Sit.” He doesn’t look away from the door and it takes him a moment and me repeating it more firmly before he sits. Just to be safe, I tell him to stay before opening the door.
Brayden stands on the other side. I lean against the door because damn, he looks good. Dark red hair reflecting the sunshine, dark green eyes running over my body with hunger, and then the largeness of his body, unfortunately covered by clothes. He steps forward with a hand out, but Otis growls and he freezes.
“Otis, no,” I chide. I step aside and motion for Brayden to come inside, closing the door behind him. He does and I step forward this time to hug him. That’s when Otis moves and sniffs him to check him out. “Otis, Brayden. Brayden, Otis.”
Brayden holds his hand out, which Otis sniffs, and then Brayden rubs behind the dog’s ears. That’s all it takes for Otis to fall in love with Brayden. He steps closer, seconds later falling over to lie on his back in a silent demand of a belly rub. Brayden laughs and happily obliges.
“How are things going?” he asks, glancing up at me.
“We’re battling it out for the alpha role, but things are mostly good.” He already knows about most of my issues because I’ve been keeping him posted.
“Maybe we should find a trainer to help you, especially since we don’t know what happened with him before you found him.”
I’ve ignored that suggestion when Brayden mentioned it in the past. There are a few reasons: he said we; I’ve spent quite a bit of money on this dog already, so if I can do it myself, I want to try that route; and he said we. I think Brayden wants my dog or wants to co-own him, even though he hasn’t said as much. That’s just taking things too far between us.
“I can pay for it,” Brayden offers.
“He’s getting better.”
“Deanna,” he starts with a frown on his face.
“He listened to me just now, didn’t he? He was in protective mode too, so that’s major,” I interrupt, having no clue if it really matters that he listened to me in that moment, yet he still refuses to move to the foot of the bed and stay there.
“If you change your mind, let me know. I want to help.”
“Did you come over just to see the dog?” I mutter, walking around Otis and back to my living room.
“Primarily.”
At his admission, I whirl around in disbelief. When I see his smirk, I laugh. “You’re mean. I’m also surprised you’re toying with me, Brayden. I thought you didn’t like games.”
He stands and comes to sit next to me on the couch. “I said I didn’t like yours,” he reminds me as Otis tries to crawl between us, but I direct him to the end of the couch. He listens and I send a pointed glance at Brayden. I’m three for three on Otis listening to my commands in the last few minutes. “Why Otis?” Brayden asks.
“Why not Otis? He looks like an Otis to me.”
Brayden chuckles. “If you say so.”
“Don’t hate on my name choice for my dog. How was your trip?” He hasn’t talked much about it.
“Lots of meetings,” he replies with a shrug. Those eyes swivel and fixate on me. “Did you panic when I asked for your address?”
I grab the throw pillow next to me and hit him in the stomach. “What is your problem today? I’m supposed to say shit to you, not the other way around.”
He grins. “I’m in a good mood.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” I grumble, even though I really do. It’s nice to see a playful side of him.
“Too bad. When do I get to see your bedroom? You saw mine less than two minutes after entering my house for the first time. I’ve been here for at least five.”
Man, I can’t get over him being like this! I love it. I stand, hold out my hand, but when Brayden stands, he hauls me over his shoulder. Otis barks once and through my laughter, I tell him to stay and give Brayden directions to my bedroom down the hall.
“Miss me?” I ask once Brayden sets me on the bed. It was supposed to come out as a breathy tease, but...is that hope in my voice? What in the world? I don’t understand.
Brayden places his hands on either side of my hips. He presses a firm, quick kiss to my mouth. “Yep.”
All the air in my lungs evaporates. I expected a chuckle or a grin or more kissing, not an actual answer, and definitely not a yes.
I relax when he adds, “I missed fucking you.” It reminds me we’re fuck buddies; at the most, friends. It means nothing that he’s the first guy to ever come to my house since I stopped letting guys come over. It means nothing that he’s about to fuck me in my bed.
This means nothing at all.
I remind myself of that as he strips me naked, kisses me, and runs his hands along my body as if he actually missed me, and as I ignore how ridiculously fucking good it feels to be with him. It all means nothing. Afterward, we’re lying side by side, facing one another, and Brayden frowns. His fingers graze over my chest.
“What are these bruises from?”
I’m surprised he noticed them; they’re already fading. “Otis. He runs and jumps on me when I come home.”
Brayden’s hand dips beneath the sheets and brushes over the top of my thigh. “You have one here too.”
“He accidentally jumped on me when he jumped on the bed.”
The concern in his eyes is sweet, but it means nothing, too. “You need a trainer to help you, Deanna. I’ll find someone and you’re going to let me. Then, you’ll at least know if you’re doing the right things or not.”
“Fine.”
Speak of the devil, Otis appears and jumps onto the bed. Brayden immediately tells him to get off. I’m amazed when he listens. That turd. He’ll listen to Brayden just like that? He does come over to my side and rests his head on the edge in a pout. I glance at Brayden, as if I now need permission.
“Make him sit first. He should need permission to jump onto the bed.”
We spend the next half hour getting Otis to sit, giving him a command to let him know it’s okay to jump onto the bed, and then trying to make him stay at the foot of the bed.
“He’s exhausting. It’s like trying to raise a kid.”
Brayden chuckles. “You didn’t realize what you were signing up for, huh?”
“Nope. He’s too cute to regret it, though. Hey, I’m hungry. Are you cooking or shall I order us a pizza?”
“We can slack today.” At that, I gasp, and he ignores me. “Order a pizza.”
I expected it to be weird, having him here in my space, but it’s not. Other than the obvious fact that he’s here, I’m not bothered by it. And the longer he’s here, the less I’m bothered. We get dressed, order pizza, and start a movie while we wait for it to be delivered.
My phone vibrates with a text while Brayden is paying the delivery guy.
Zane: Can I see you tomorrow?
It doesn’t feel right to commit to that when Brayden is in my house, so I put it down without responding. Brayden appears with the pizza and we dig in.
“Where would you like to travel?” I ask.
“Um,” he seems to think about it. “I don’t know.”
“Really?” Most people know of at least one place they’d like to visit.
“Yeah. What about you?”
“All fifty states. I want to see my own country before I think about visiting others. Did your mom like her clock?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says with a nod. “She was excited about it.”
“Tell me a secret.”
“You first.” His reply is so quick, it’s obvious he doesn’t want to tell me a secret.
“I called my mom a bitch yesterday.” Where did that come from? Brayden glances over at me with surprise. I feel like I should save this somehow. “She called. She’s mad again because she asked if I’d let her work in the shop and I told her no. She hates that I have that kind of authority, especially since she doesn’t think I should have it.” I pause and focus my gaze on the TV. “We sort of got along before my grandma died. Better than we do now, at least.”
“Why does she want to help? Why do you say no?”
I glare at him. “It’s my business. I’m not letting her step a foot into the door for her to try and take over.”
“Understandable. I was only asking since I don’t know.”
I decide this is a good time to stop talking. Brayden must agree. He pulls me into his arms as we lie on the couch with Otis on the floor in front of us. This is nice. Really nice. His hands rest on my ass. His heartbeats sound strong and could lure me into a nap. Taking care of Otis is tiring; it’s a lot more work than I expected when I made the spur-of-the-moment decision to keep him. I can’t imagine having Zane in my house or talking to him as much as I talk to Brayden.
But none of that means anything.
Me: Sorry, I totally forgot to respond to you!
Zane: It’s fine.
He’s not happy, and I can’t say I blame him. He messaged me on Sunday and it’s now Wednesday. I feel bad, but Brayden ended up spending the night and things have been crazy this week between work and going to the training sessions with Otis that Brayden hooked me up with. I haven’t had time to see him either.
“How is it going with your two guys?”
I glance over at Rose. “What do you mean? They are just guys.”
“But you’re texting a lot.”
“It’s about Otis,” I lie. Thankfully, my phone rings and I don’t have to talk about my two fuck buddies. “Hello,” I answer.
“Deanna.”
The seriousness of my father’s voice makes me pause. “Yes.”
The words that follow don’t make sense, ultimately causing me to sit down on the floor because my knees are too weak. How did this happen? Is he sure? Oh my god. I can’t believe I called her a bitch.
“Deanna!” Rose’s voice snaps me out of it. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“My mom died,” I whisper.
“What?” She sits down next to me. “How?”
“Two eighteen-wheelers collided and one fell over onto my mom’s car. She died on the scene. It happened this morning,” I blandly repeat what was said to me.
The rest of the day is a blur as I see my father, try to help him with anything that needs to be done, and try not to break down. This can’t be real. It’s simply not possible.
Yet, it is.
My mom is dead and in our last conversation, I called her a bitch.
Around ten at night, I decide that I need to escape from all of this. My heart hurts too much. I can’t stop wondering why I haven’t actually cried yet and what’s wrong with me that I haven’t done so. Regret suffocates me. The image of my mom’s vehicle is glued behind my eyelids; the news shows it over and over. I want it all to stop, just for a little while. Sweet Zane seems like the perfect option.
I text him, asking if I can come over, and his yes comes all of thirty seconds later. When I get to his house, he pulls me inside with the smile I knew I’d find on his face. Yes, this is normal and good. If only my mind and body can get with the program instead of robotically going through the motions. Zane kisses me with so much passion. It’s there; I know it is, but I don’t feel a thing.
His hands gently slide under my shirt, caressing my skin for a moment before removing my shirt. At least, that’s the way it should feel. My skin crawls from his touch. Fuck. Why can’t my body react the way I want it to? I want to escape from today. There’s nothing wrong with Zane! He sits me onto his bed, bringing me back to the present, and I lean back while he kisses over my chest.
I stare at his ceiling. What was her last minute like before she died? Did she see the truck toppling toward her? Did she scream? Did she have any regrets? Fuck, I’m an idiot. It’s unlikely she had time to think about that.
Zane pops open the button of my jeans. I shouldn’t be here with him. I want Brayden.
“Deanna?”
My gaze flicks down to Zane who hovers over me with a concerned look.
“What’s wrong? You’re crying.”
My fingertips brush my cheek and feel a dampness. Fuck. More tears fall as I sit up and push Zane away. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It’s been a rough day. I have to go.” I rush out of his room, find my shirt along the way, and get the hell out of Dodge.
Instead of going to Brayden’s, I drive home and pray for sleep once I get there.