Landon

Spike cooperated just as I knew he would. The rain still hadn’t let up, and the poor guy looked like a drowned rat as he stood staring up at me. I tossed the plastic bag into the trashcan beside her garage before lifting his trembling body.

“I’ll have you know I never picked up dog poop before.” His tiny tongue poked out and licked my face in gratitude as he continued to shiver in my arms. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome. Let’s get you inside before you catch pneumonia.”

Zara met us at the door holding two towels. Her hair now in a high, damp ponytail, her pink blouse now replaced with a dry blue T-shirt. And I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t disappointed.

“You changed,” I stated the obvious with a pout.

She laughed at the look on my face. “I had to. I was drenched. I don’t think Palu would want me giving a peepshow to the townsfolk. Even my bra was wet.” She handed me one of the towels. “You’re soaking wet, too.”

I tried to reply, but my brain was stuck on a braless visual.

“Come in out of the rain.” She reached for Spike and held him away from her body to avoid getting wet again, immediately wrapping him up to look like a burrito. I left the umbrella on the landing outside her door and followed her in. I automatically shuffled my feet back and forth over the small area rug when she asked, “Success?”

“Yep,” I said just as Spike said, “Yip.” That earned us the stunning dimpled smile.

“Would you like to have lunch with us?”

“I’d love to.”

“I have to warn you it’s nothing fancy, just peanut butter and jelly.”

“My favorite.”

As Zara rubbed the dry towel over his body, Spike lay in her arms with his eyes shut in a state of total bliss. I swear I heard him moan…lucky fucker. She removed his bow tie and placed him down. His fur stood out in all directions, the rubbing from the towel causing his natural wave to become a frizzy mess. We watched, amused as he charged around the room in a frantic, excitable dash. The dude looked like someone had plugged an electrical cord up his ass. Suddenly he came to a grinding halt and sat on my foot.

“He’s happy to see you,” she said as she draped the damp towel over one of the dining room chairs.

“Are you?”

“I am.” She nervously twisted the tiny bow tie she still held. “Lance, I know things were left awkwardly between us after our date. I’ve been thinking about our conversation, a lot. When I said I was confused, it wasn’t necessarily in a bad way.”

“I know. I meant it when I said I felt the same. There’s just something about you. Zara, I find you captivating. But besides your beauty and your exotic upbringing, it’s something else that I can’t put my finger on. You’re…” I paused until that one all-encompassing word I’d struggled to find hit me. “Magnetic. I find you magnetic.”

Our eyes connected and held. I waited to see how she’d respond.

What I didn’t expect was for her to say, “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into what I assumed was the kitchen. Spike looked up at me before taking off after her.

Clearly, I once again freaked her out with my honesty. I knew her well enough to know she just needed to take a few minutes to digest what I had said. But I couldn’t regret sharing those little tidbits of information. When apart, I struggled to process what she made me feel. When near her, weirdly enough it all made sense.

As I waited for her to return, I dragged the soft terry cloth over my arms and face while taking in the details of her home. The main living area was one rectangle, the front door positioned in the center with a living room on the left and a dining room on the right. The furniture in both rooms was bleached oak, the upholstery a bright and cheerful floral. A modest television sat on a small rattan table in the corner, framed photos of the family decorated the end tables, and vivid photographs of gorgeous Hawaiian sunsets decorated the walls.

I heard Spike yipping along with the metallic pings of dry dog food hitting the inside of a bowl. “Calm down,” she said, forcing him to complain with another bark.

I moved around the room, continuing my perusal. The simplicity of her home hit me hard. It was so normal, so much like where I had come from in Jersey before hitting fame, and so comforting. My parents no longer lived in my childhood home. Until that moment, I’d never really thought about it. Zara’s living room reminded me of a time when Logan and I would sit on the floor rolling a ball back and forth. The game was simple, yet it made him so happy every time he caught the ball and successfully rolled it back.

While staring into space, I saw her come back into the room in my periphery. I glanced her way, plastering a forced smile on my face.

“I know it’s not much, but it’s home,” she said, misinterpreting my melancholy.

“It reminds me of the first house my family lived in.” Her eyes widened just enough that I knew she understood what was on my mind. I stepped to the table closest to me and lifted a photo of Zara, her mother, and a woman who I assumed was her sister Annia on her wedding day. “Wow, the three of you look so much alike.”

Her sister could have passed as a twin, with height being the only difference between them. In fact, Zara stood taller than both her mom and sister. In the photo, she wore a short pink cocktail dress. Her long tanned legs were hard to ignore. Replacing the frame on the table, I then picked up a small frame holding a picture of a teenage girl who resembled Zara and her sister.

“Is this Lilou?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. Zara nodded slowly with a small smile. “She was very pretty.”

“She was, and very kind.”

The pain in her eyes was obvious, and I moved on, not wanting to upset her. Walking over to the wall, I admired a large framed photo of the sun sinking into the ocean.

“This is stunning. Who took it?”

“I did.”

“Zara, this photo is spectacular.” The way she’d captured the sun just as it hit the water made me feel like I was standing right there, witnessing it myself. My eyes moving to another picture on an adjacent wall, I asked, “Did you take all of these?”

“Yes. I’ve been taking pictures since I was a little girl,” she said shyly.

When I turned, she nervously fiddled with the hem of her T-shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“My dad forgot his lunch in the fridge, which means he’ll be coming home.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” she replied quickly. Her one-word response contradicted her actions. I could see the panic swelling in her eyes. “I mean, it’s not like anything is going on,” she continued. “You’re just a friend. I’m having lunch with my friend.”

“Right,” I agreed with a nod. Her obvious declaration seemed too obvious. “But if he is going to give you a hard time…”

“I’m a grown woman. I can have a friend here if I want.” Her words said one thing, but her demeanor said something else. I closed the distance between us and lifted her chin until her eyes had nowhere to look but up into mine.

“Zara, if me being here makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go.”

“I don’t want you to go. It’s just…he can be so rigid. Those who don’t know him think he’s an absolute arse.”

I laughed and she joined me. “Here I thought you were afraid of your father.”

“Afraid? I’m embarrassed by him.”

I had completely misinterpreted her relationship with her dad. “Does he act that way toward all your friends?”

“Just the male ones.”

“Wait, how many male ones?” At her smirk I quickly said, “Never mind. At least I know going in not to take it personally. Thank you for your concern, but I can handle myself.”

“You say that now,” she said with a sarcastic huff. “If you’d rather go, we can grab something in town.”

We.

“Thank you for saying we.” Impulsively, I pulled her into my arms. She never flinched, instead wrapping her arms around my middle to hug me back. At least I knew she wanted to be with me. She could have easily asked me to leave before he got home.

I pulled back enough to look down at her face. “This is your call, Zara. I’ll stay if you want to stay here, or we can go if you prefer that. It’s entirely up to you.”

Her mouth opened as she was about to reply, but when her eyes cut to the window she clamped her lips shut.

“What?”

“Too late. It looks like we’re staying,” she said with a frown.

While still holding her, I turned to see a white compact car pulling into the driveway behind my Jeep. The rain continued to pelt, but it did little to hamper the view of the driver’s frown that comically matched Zara’s.