Pawsitively in Love (5 page)

“I’m sure you will.” Cole leaned over and kissed Austin on the cheek.

Not likely….
Still. It would be nice.

EVAN WAS
so relieved it was Friday night, and almost the last one of the year at that. He’d gotten more and more tired as the semester drew to a close. Two more weeks and he was out. He had a few tests to finish writing, final papers to grade, grades to post, and that was it. Other than that, there were a couple of classes he could teach in his sleep.

But still, he was exhausted and ready for summer. He was more grateful than he’d ever admit that he’d decided not to teach any summer classes. Of course there was a reason for that. Maybe the reason he’d decided to take summer term off from teaching was long gone out of his life, but it was better that way. Really. He’d have time for Dex and relaxing. Evan hadn’t ever done much relaxing before. It was time to give that a try.

Evan did his best to sneak out of the department without any of the other professors noticing. There weren’t any meetings that week, which was a relief, but everyone seemed to get chatty on Friday afternoons. He didn’t want to talk to any of them, not about their weekends or their kids or the department party he was going to manufacture a reason to skip. He never wanted to talk to anyone, so it wasn’t much different, but especially not that day.

Evan managed to make it to his car with no annoying conversations and gusted out a great big sigh of relief once he was inside with the doors locked. He wanted to go home and see his puppy whom he’d managed to visit after his ten o’clock class and for an hour or so at lunch, but he knew he had to do the shopping because once he was home he wouldn’t want to leave.

He dragged himself into the grocery store, which was usually something he looked forward to, for salad fixings and an organic grass-fed steak. Evan had been more tempted than he wanted to admit just to drive through the taco stand and grab a burrito. But Evan knew better than that. He’d probably be up all night with a stomachache if he went and got street food. He grabbed his cloth bags from the back of the car—he’d learned pretty quickly that it was at least smiled upon if not expected to have cloth bags—and wandered into the store.

The market was another one of his favorite parts of his new neighborhood. He didn’t actually have to drive, other than the fact he’d be carrying three bags of groceries home. It was only a few blocks away from his house, and he’d loved it at first sight. The foodie in Evan had been drawn to the racks of artisan cheese and the salad bar and sushi chefs, and the decorating snob in him loved the stained concrete floors and cafe-style signs. It had grown to be a place he liked to drop by a few times a week rather than a chore to get over with. He figured he’d come by for sushi on Saturday if he didn’t feel like cooking.

He relaxed as soon as he walked in the door of the market. There was something about being smacked in the face with a wall of perfectly presented baked goods that changed his day from long and tiring to all of a sudden not so bad. He was tempted by the racks of warm chocolate chip cookies that he swore they baked right there in an open oven just to torture him, but he veered to the right and toward the greener, healthier parts of the store. Then he turned back.

Maybe just one.

Evan was nothing if not good at avoiding temptation. But once in a blue moon, when he’d had a rough day or an even rougher week, he let himself splurge. A caramel-filled brownie, one of the huge, sinful chocolate chip cookies, a little tray of four perfectly decorated petit fours, or if it had been a particularly long week, one of the thick sourdough baguettes with the house-made jalapeño artichoke dip. It
had
been a particularly long week. Perhaps he’d get all three.

Evan took his time picking out the perfect loaf, nicely browned, symmetrical, and pretty. He plucked it from the basket and enjoyed the illicit crinkle of the paper when it hit the bottom of his cart. Then he slipped his hand out and snatched a container of petit fours. Sue him. He was stressed. He made a beeline out of the bakery after that and into the salad section where he’d be sure to make better choices.

The ceilings were high, and the racks were piled with perfect piles of organic produce, artisanal cheeses and meats, pizza, fresh chickens, and roast beef. Evan decompressed from his week as he wandered through the fresh section of the store and grabbed what he needed. He did pick up a container of his favorite jalapeño artichoke dip, but he also loaded his cart with the fixings to make a large salad to go with his creamy dip-laden french bread.

Evan was in the middle of picking out a tomato for his salad when he nearly knocked someone over. He looked up to say sorry and—

Shit
. It was dog-groomer guy. Literally the very last person Evan needed to run into when he was tired and run-down and just wanted to get home. Or ever, really. After their last encounter, it probably would’ve been better if they had never seen each other again. He hoped they’d do the awkward thing where they pretended not to know each other and just move the hell on.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He felt… awkward. Yeah, that was really the only word for it. He was sorry that his relaxing Friday evening grocery run was ruined. Evan nearly dropped his tomato back on the pile and made a break for the checkout lines.

“It’s oka—
oh
.” That’s when dog-groomer guy realized who he was. Yeah.
Oh
. The awkwardness that had already been thick raised about five million on the tension scale. And to think Evan had been pleased with himself for dodging pleasant professor chitchat after class. If he’d been stopped to talk, he might have managed to miss the run-in with his angry dog groomer. He supposed that was his karma for avoiding his colleagues.

Evan gave him a terse nod and turned to leave.
I seriously need to get out of here.

“Hey, wait up. Um, Evan. Please.”

Fantastic. Evan wanted nothing more than to stand in the grocery store and talk to the guy who’d basically accused him of abusing his dog while he, what? Held flowers for his girlfriend and was probably picking out some cutesy romantic gift? Jesus.

The guy’s arms were full of dark pink peonies, and he had a bag of bright-colored flower-shaped cookies. His hair fell into his eyes and made him look like he was barely older than one of Evan’s students. He was pretty and fair and freckly. Healthy looking, with that Pacific Northwest glow that Evan had noticed on people when he’d first moved to town. Evan hated that he noticed anything about—what was his name again? Evan couldn’t remember for the life of him. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever gotten an introduction. Definitely better that way. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to smile. After all, if they ran into each other in the store once, well… it could easily happen again.

“I wanted to apologize,” dog-groomer guy said. “I was horribly rude to you when you were in the shop, and you didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

“It’s no problem….”

“Austin. My name’s Austin, and yes, it really was.” He looked flustered, but maybe like he’d been practicing what he wanted to say to Evan but had his entire speech surprised right out of him. It might have been a little endearing, which annoyed the hell out of Evan. “I’ve been meaning to call you, but, well, I guess you could say I’m a huge chicken.” Austin took a deep breath. “I’m never that rude to my clients. I wish I could say what came over me. I guess it had been a long day, I was a little hungry, and I snapped. I’m sure you’re very sweet to Dexter.”

“You remember my dog’s name?” That was the first thing Evan’s mind could focus on. What a weird scene, standing in the middle of the produce section with a person he’d had one of the most uncomfortable encounters of his year with, or maybe his life.

Part of Evan, his normal people-avoiding side, wanted to get it over with as soon as he could. On the other hand, Austin was pretty adorable when he wasn’t being rude. Evan liked his big brown eyes, and he liked his sandy flop of hair even better. He was nice to look at, and he made Evan’s heart race a little. Of course, that could always be the situation itself making his heart race. He wasn’t a fan of confrontation.

“Um, yeah. I do remember him. He’s an awesome little guy. I just wanted to say, like, please don’t not come back because I lost my mind that one day. Like, it’s on me next time Dexter needs a bath and a nail clip. And I promise no yelling. You probably won’t even see me.”

He looked embarrassed, but he finally fell silent.

“Listen, man. Austin. It’s no harm, really. I get it. I had an amazingly bad day that day too, so believe me, I get it.”

“What did happen to make you late? I never let you finish when you were trying to explain.”

Evan chuckled sourly. He remembered his frustration and how Austin had refused to listen. Maybe making him feel a little bad would be nice. Just the once. “I shattered my phone, and both of my cars decided to stop working.
Both
of them. I ended up running from work to home to get my second car, and then from my house to your shop in my work clothes.”

“Oh God.” Austin looked at the ground and kicked at the stained shiny concrete with his toe. “Now I feel like a massive asshole.”

Evan was usually a nice person—at least he hoped. But he kind of felt a bit justified smiling at Austin’s discomfort.

“I promise, I really am responsible with my dog. We’re still learning how to live with each other, but I take good care of him.”

“I know. Listen. Is there a chance you’ll forget that happened? I hate the thought of someone out there thinking I’m always such a dick.”

Dick….
There was something about the way Austin said that word. How it kind of slipped out from between full pink lips.
Oh my God. Stop it.

Evan shrugged and tried to look completely unflustered. “Sure. Like I said, it’s fine.”

“And really. Next visit is on me. I’d love to see the little guy again. He’s adorable.”

“It’s cool, man. Really.” Evan couldn’t take any more of the conversation. It was cute and embarrassing and too much for his neat little world. He had officially reached his threshold for social conversation of the embarrassing “get me out of here” variety. He just nodded one more time and gestured stiffly with his tomato. “I’ve gotta get home and make dinner. Long week.”

“Yeah. Of course. See you around.”

Evan nodded.
See you around
.

He was driving home before he realized he’d forgotten the steak that he’d specifically gone to the store to get.
Shit.
He turned around and went back so he’d actually have something for dinner. He tried to ignore the questioning glances of the checkout lady who’d just rung him up minutes before.

ALL THROUGH
cooking his dinner, Evan couldn’t get the scene out of his head. He would’ve never expected Austin to apologize. He hadn’t expected to ever see him again, although he should’ve known somehow that he would. The whole situation was… unusual for his life. Thick. Expectant somehow, messy in a world of polite orderliness. Evan couldn’t shake the weird feeling, just like he hadn’t been able to shake off the first encounter either. Instead, he made his dinner, gave Dexter his treats, and tried to watch enough
Breaking Bad
reruns that he’d forget about brown-eyed Austin and his sincere apology.

“What’d ya say, Dex? You want to go back to Austin for your next bath?”

Dex woofed happily. Of course he wouldn’t have any problems with it.

Evan heard laughter coming from the other side of the fence. Dexter must’ve heard it too, because his little windy tail started waving. Dexter loved the neighbors’ daughter. In the short weeks since Evan first brought Dexter home, he’d bonded with the little girl during visits and shy, adoring petting sessions. They’d make soft noises at each other, and she’d pat his little head while he wagged his tail like a nut ball. It really was quite adorable. Evan just didn’t have the energy to do anything about it at the moment. Dexter would get to see Scout in the morning.

EVAN MANAGED
to sleep through until nearly ten the next day—for the most part at least. It was a miracle, since he’d passed out before midnight, but he must’ve needed the sleep. Dexter, who’d slowly managed to make his way from his bed on the floor to the point where he was sleeping at Evan’s feet, squirmed around.

“You awake too, buddy?” Evan asked. “Time to go outside again?”

He’d found out the hard way that Dex was a puppy and didn’t exactly have the best sense of timing. But he was learning to let Evan know when he needed to go out. He was a smart boy. They’d taken a short trip out to the yard earlier before falling back into bed for a couple of hours. Evan dragged himself out from under his covers and pulled on a T-shirt as well as lounging pants over his boxer briefs. His neighbors didn’t have the tallest fence, and he didn’t want to give Peggy, Jeff, or even more, Scout, a free show.

“Let’s go outside, boy.”

Dexter hopped off the bed and trotted behind Evan to the kitchen.

“You want to try your door?” he asked. He pushed at the little dog flap he’d put into the wall going out to his deck. Dexter looked at him for a moment, but then eventually figured out what he was supposed to do and wriggled his little body through it, belly brushing the bottom of the door since his legs were still so short. He wagged his tail at Evan from the slightly damp porch. He was obviously pleased that he’d figured out what Evan wanted. Evan opened the glass sliding door and followed Dexter out to the back yard.

“You’re such a good boy.” Evan had long since gotten used to the fact that he was talking to a dog. At first it had felt a little silly, but Dexter honestly seemed to understand him. So what was the harm?

“Morning, Evan!” Peggy called from across the fence. See? It was a good idea to put on a shirt and some pants. Peggy was standing on her second-story balcony with a cup of coffee. She already had on a matching warm-up suit, and her hair was in a ponytail. Probably on her way to whatever class she did on weekend mornings. Peggy seemed to be on her way to some exercise class most of the time—sometimes with Scout in tow, because who’d want an out-of-shape toddler, of course, and sometimes on her own.