Chapter 14 Steele
FOURTEEN
STEELE
I try to keep my eyes off Sydney for the entire ride, internally kicking my own ass for even agreeing to let her drive me to wherever we’re going.
She looks hot as fuck in her simple outfit of blue jeans and a white, off-the-shoulder T-shirt, the sun-kissed skin that peeks out begging to be tasted and touched.
Her purple glitter sneakers are cute, a stark contrast to the red-bottomed stilettos she wears at the club.
Just the thought that I’ve seen both sides of her makes me want to beat on my chest like an animal, even though that’s the last thing I should be doing.
She’s the owner’s daughter, you idiot, which means off fucking limits.
Giving myself a not-so-gentle reminder of the stakes, I turn my head, looking out the passenger window as she takes the exit.
I haven’t had much time to explore the area, but I can tell we’re entering an under-resourced part of the city.
Several buildings are vacant and run down, while others are clearly in the process of being restored.
A man helps an elderly lady as she exits what looks to be a neighborhood market, taking her bags and following her out to her car as she smiles gratefully.
A woman with two small girls playfully flips one of their ponytails, earning a giggle that I can almost hear from where we are on the road.
I can’t help but glance over at Sydney, who has a look of contentment blanketing her features as she scans the scenery before us.
We continue down the main road for about a half mile before pulling into a small gravel lot.
She was right about the parking situation, as there’s only one open space, which she maneuvers into with ease before cutting the engine.
I look around, finding a big backlit sign that tells me exactly where we are.
“Friends Furever Animal Shelter?” I ask. “What are we doing here?”
She turns toward me, lifting a brow. “Well, since I can’t trust you with actual humans, I figured this would be safer. Unless you hate puppies and kittens as much as you hate pediatric surgeons.”
I roll my eyes, memories of the way that douchebag looked at her playing in my head like a fucking nightmare.
I’ve wondered since that day if he ever ended up asking her to the charity ball, even though it’s none of my business.
She’s not mine, so why do I give a fuck if she goes out with Doctor McDickwad?
It’s not like he’d know how to handle her, anyway.
She’d eat him alive, and he wouldn’t even appreciate it.
I abandon the image of Sydney in a leather bodysuit with her favorite impact toy in hand, focusing on the building outside. “Animals are better than people, that’s for damn sure.” She doesn’t reply at first, so I turn toward her, finding the corners of her mouth curled up into a knowing smirk.
“I think so, too,” she replies, and I can’t stop the grin that plays at my lips, allowing it to break free for several seconds.
It’s not where I expected any of this to go, but I can’t fucking help it.
She continues to bring out parts of me that I didn’t know existed, almost every time we’re together.
It’s confusing.
She opens the driver’s side door, exiting the vehicle.
I follow, falling in step beside her as we make our way toward the shelter’s front entrance.
It’s a pretty rough-looking building from the outside, but as soon as I pull open the door, motioning for Sydney to enter, it’s like we’re in a different place entirely.
Where the view from the parking lot was dark and dreary, with overgrown weeds and loose siding, the inside is nearly brand-new.
The floors are bright and shiny, leading to a well-lit reception area.
The waiting room to our left is clean and airy, with chairs and pet beds lining the walls.
There are toys scattered all around, as though some of the animals have been out here recently to play.
Everything is full of color, creating an inviting space for families who are looking for a furry companion.
“Syd!” a young girl, no more than seventeen years old, shouts as she rushes toward us with two very small kittens held to her chest. “Francine had her babies yesterday! Are they not the cutest things you’ve ever seen?”
Sydney gasps, shoving her purse at me in a hurry.
I mindlessly take it, staring down at the luxury handbag like it’s on fire because what the fuck?
This is something boyfriends do—hold their girl’s bag so she can lose her shit over baby animals—and I don’t have a boyfriendly bone in my body.
In fact, I haven’t been in a serious relationship in…
well, ever. I can get everything I need within the four walls at the club with a safe, consenting partner without emotions and expectations muddying the waters. What more could a guy like me want?
“Oh my God, Steele, look at this cutie,” she whines, her blue eyes sparkling as she smiles brightly.
She’s got a fluffy gray kitten cradled carefully in her hands, its short fur brushing against her cheek.
The sheer happiness written across her expression has my stomach doing flips, which is also something I’m pretty sure only boyfriends do, but I can’t fucking help it.
This is the same Sydney I saw a small glimpse of when I was holding her in bed, right before she took off and everything went to shit.
“Cute,” I echo, trying like hell to keep a straight face so she doesn’t see how affected I am.
I need to reel it in. To keep my eyes on what’s important…
becoming a likable, unproblematic guy the fans can get behind, so my career isn’t cut short before I make it to a Super Bowl.
That’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted, and I’ve worked too hard not to see it through.
She rolls her eyes, carefully handing the kitten back to Steph, as her nametag says.
The young girl turns back the way she came, leaving the two of us alone.
“Alright, Harlow. I’m about to introduce you to the love of my life.
If he hates you, that means I also have to hate you, so I suggest you be on your best behavior. ”
My pulse kicks up, my fingers clenching around the leather handle of her bag that I’m still carrying.
She notices the motion, grabs it from my grip, and sets it on top of the reception desk before spinning on her heel and taking off toward the back.
I follow, seriously hoping that we’re not about to meet Doctor Fuckface’s veterinarian twin brother.
I don’t think I could handle watching some loser fumble his way through asking Sydney out again, knowing damn well that she’s way out of his league.
She needs a man who will let her take control every now and then, but isn’t afraid to step up and put her in her place when she acts like a brat.
That’s the shit she craves, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
I could see it in her eyes when I had my hand around her delicate little throat. She was into it, and fuck. So was I.
“Oh, Sydney!” a woman’s voice cuts through my dirty thoughts, bringing me back to the here and now.
She’s probably in her mid to late sixties, with gray strands sprinkled throughout her short brown hair.
Her fur-covered crewneck with her name and title on the front tells me that she’s Anita, the shelter’s owner.
“I was wondering if I’d see you before I left.
I wanted to say thank you for this month’s donation.
We couldn’t do any of this without you, I hope you know that. ”
Sydney smiles, tilting her head playfully. “You don’t have to thank me every time, Nita. You know I’m happy to do it.”
The woman slides her gaze over to me, pointing to Sydney. “She’s one of the good ones. This place would be in shambles without her.”
Sydney sighs. “That’s not true. You do an amazing job here. I just write a check every once in a while.” She looks around. “Is my puppy in his kennel?”
Anita nods, a bright smile playing at her lips. “Doctor Dexter was in earlier today to check him out. He passed his physical with flying colors, and he only growled once.”
“Well then,” Sydney replies, “sounds like he deserves a hundred treats.”
The woman chuckles, reaching to the shelf beside her and returning with a plastic container full of bone-shaped biscuits.
She extends it between them, and Sydney takes it, her blonde curls swishing back and forth as she bounces on her tiptoes.
This is nothing like the attitude she has around most humans.
That hardened, sarcastic wit is nowhere to be found.
In its place is excitement and joy, and it’s hard not to feel the same because it’s quite literally radiating from her tiny frame.
She says her goodbyes, and Anita waves us off as we make our way down a long hallway.
Thankfully, it’s just us back here, which means my fear of running into another one of Sydney’s delusional suitors was for nothing.
Dogs bark and wag their tails as we pass, and my heart squeezes in my chest because this is their life.
Abandoned with no family and no yard to play in—just a few selfless employees doing what they can to keep them fed and cared for.
Maybe they did something their previous owners thought was bad, or maybe they’re just misunderstood.
But either way, they’ve been cast aside, and now they’re just fighting for a second chance at a happy life.
Fuck. I feel that.