CHAPTER 19
Reed
I f there was an award for terrible ideas, I’m confident it would go to me.
Because somehow, in the past hour, I went from hermit extraordinaire to dog dad.
Ginny . Her name is Ginny. And she’s my puppy now.
Lila’s voice distracts me from the familiar anxiety pooling low in my stomach. “You want me to spend the night here?”
I carefully get Ginny’s pet carrier out of the car as Lila follows me. “You can go home if you want,” I tell her over my shoulder.
Suggesting she stay here slipped out during a moment of weakness. Calling a car for her to go home is probably the most sensible option, but that doesn’t stop me from adding, “It’s…”
Tell her, goddammit. It’s Lila .
Clearing my throat, I push past the murkiness in my brain and admit, “I don’t know how to do this. Take care of a puppy, I mean. I know you used to have a dog, so I thought—”
“I’ll help,” she cuts me off gently, a comforting hand falling on my arm. “I’m basically the dog whisperer, so you have nothing to worry about. You’re not alone in this, Reed.”
You ruin everything. Don’t you think I deserve a son who takes care of me?
My voice comes out rough, as if I haven’t used it in a long time. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here. I’ll figure it out.”
“Nice try, but you won’t get rid of me that easily. I’m actually excited to be the one teaching you for a change.”
“You teach me plenty of things,” I retort.
“Yeah, right. Like what? How to write shitty first drafts?”
Despite the mess in my head, I can’t help a half smile. “All right. I have a spare room. If you change your mind, just let me know.”
The silence of my empty house greets us when we cross the threshold. Judging by the pet shop bags by the entrance, it looks like Warren has already been here. I make a mental note to thank him later.
The sight of Lila in my house makes me wonder if this is a mistake I won’t come back from. Inviting an intern to spend the night at my place surely breaks all sorts of codes of conduct—kissing the top of her head sure as fuck did—yet I can’t seem to give a shit right now.
I need her.
I need her in a raw way I don’t understand.
“You have a beautiful home,” she says, taking everything in.
I look at the ground floor too, trying to see it through her eyes—a renovated old home that still maintains the charm of when it was first built, nearly a century ago. Minimal decorations, warm tones, comfortable furniture, no personal pictures.
And, of course, the first thing that catches her eye.
“And I thought your office was bursting with books,” she teases, walking up to the living room bookshelf. “How many books do you have ?”
Her fingertips are gentle as she grazes the spines, and I try not to lose myself in the movement. Try not to picture what her touch would feel like on my bare skin.
I clear my throat and set the pet carrier on the living room floor. “A few hundred, I think.”
Her eyes widen comically when she glances at me over her shoulder. “You’ve read them all?”
“Most of them. The ones down here are fiction books, but I have some academic tomes in my office upstairs. You can take a look later if you want. Grab a few for your thesis.”
“You know I’ll never say no to books.”
“Suit yourself.” Who knew hearing a woman talk about her love for books would turn me on? I clear my throat again. “Do you want something more comfortable to change into?”
She looks down at my jacket, cheeks reddening as if she’s just realized she’s still wearing it. “Oh. No, thank you. I should probably give this back.” She shrugs it off, walking up to me. “Where does this go? Oh my God, I just realized I’ve walked inside with my shoes on. I should’ve asked—”
“Sit down and relax, Lila.” I take the jacket from her grip. “You don’t need to take off your shoes. I don’t want your feet getting cold. Wait for me on the couch while I go upstairs to change and turn on the heating system. I’ll get the first aid kit and clean your scratches while we’re at it.”
“Thanks,” she mutters, her body so close that I almost do something stupid.
I step back first. “I’ll be right back. We’ll take Ginny out of the pet carrier when I come back down, yeah?”
Upstairs, I take a moment to compose myself. I’m on edge because of everything that went down this afternoon, that’s all. I’m not thinking clearly.
I don’t regret telling Lila to spend the night, although maybe I should. But the thought of being alone with such a helpless creature after…
Don’t think about Daisy.
I sit on my mattress, just for a moment, and allow myself to let that open wound bleed at my feet.
What the hell am I supposed to do with a puppy? Is this a cruel joke?
“ Fuck ,” I hiss, yanking at the hair on my nape.
If my parents taught me anything before my life went up in flames, it’s that I can’t take care of helpless animals. I’m not built for it.
Over the years, I’ve taught myself to be confident in my abilities as a children’s counselor. The opposite meant not helping those kids, not giving them a shot at the good childhood I never had, and that wasn’t an option. I grew confident because I had my many academic titles and feedback from trusted professionals to back me up.
But what do I have now?
I don’t do feelings. I don’t get attached.
Yet I know that’s a lie. Because if I don’t do feelings or get attached, why does the thought of Ginny in pain make me want to tear the whole world apart?
And why do I always feel such a burning ache to pull Lila into my arms and never let her go?
I groan into the silence of my bedroom.
This is so fucking wrong. All of it. I got caught up in a web of feelings I should’ve dusted away the second they started forming.
I’m an adult. I can control my impulses around her.
That’s what I keep telling myself, over and over again, as I descend the stairs in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, holding a clean hoodie in one hand and my first aid kit in the other.
And then it all goes out the window when I spot Lila bending over Ginny’s pet carrier. I shut my eyes and take a get-your-shit-together kind of breath through my nose because her tight leggings hug her perfectly round ass, and that’s a sight I won’t be able to forget.
My cock twitches. Wearing sweatpants around her is the most idiotic idea I’ve ever had.
I clear my throat. “How is she?”
My voice makes her jump.
“Jesus, you scared me. I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs.” She crosses her arms over her baggy T-shirt. “She’s lying down, but she’s not sleeping. Should we set up her playpen?”
“All right.” I hand over the hoodie. “Here, put this on. The heating takes a while to kick in. This is an old house.”
When she puts it on and I see it reaches her knees, I have to look away. “But first, let me check those scratches. It won’t take long.”
She takes a seat on the couch, her knee grazing mine when I sit next to her, and we remain silent as I carefully clean her wounds. The heat of her hand seeps into my veins, lighting me up from the inside.
“Do you really want to adopt her?” she asks out of the blue. “You didn’t look too excited.”
“I don’t know if I’m equipped to take care of a dog.” Or anyone. “But if the other option is to send her to a shelter, I…”
The constant fear of being moved from foster home to foster home, of not knowing if the next one would be a nightmare.
The cold nights, the fights, the screams.
“I can’t.”
Lila gives me an unreadable look. “My parents were very adamant about not wanting another dog after Rocket passed; it was tough for everyone. If you want, I can ask around and see if anyone would want to adopt her instead. I don’t want you to feel pressured if you aren’t sure. It’s a big decision.”
“I’m keeping her.”
My words are definite as I shove my trauma back into the pits of my soul.
I’m not letting that little thing go without a home like I did.
Two hours later, the downstairs floor of my house has transformed into a puppy lair—food and water bowls, a dog bed, a playpen, training pads, and toys have fully taken over. Warren went all out at the pet shop, and I’m not even mad about it.
Ginny was shy about getting out of the carrier at first. It took her well over fifteen minutes to step out of it, and when she did, her paws started gliding on the hardwood floor. And I swear Lila’s laugh as she watched her was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
The puppy sniffed her hands, then mine, and slowly gained confidence in her new surroundings. Some food and bathroom mishaps later, she’s snoring on her new bed as Lila and I sit on the couch, empty takeout bags on the coffee table. But neither of us is paying attention to the movie playing on my TV because surely Ginny is bound to disappear into thin air if we look away even for one millisecond.
“You okay?” I ask her, my voice hoarse from not speaking in so long.
“I’ve been better,” she mutters.
She rests her chin on her knees, hugging her legs as she tries to hide her quivering lips.
“Lila,” I start in a calm voice. “Talk to me.”
But she doesn’t. She barely even blinks, and her watery eyes don’t move away from the puppy.
Fuck it.
“Come here.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to me. She comes willingly, the tears rolling down her cheeks freely as I pull her against my chest. She hugs my torso and buries her face in my hoodie, weeping quietly.
“Let it all out,” I mumble against the top of her head. “I’ve got you, angel. I’m here.”
The nickname slips out and my heart free-falls. But then she hugs me a little tighter and presses her face against me a little closer, as if silently agreeing that it feels too right to take back.
“I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just…” She hiccups. “She’s so small .”
My fingers tangle in her hair, massaging her scalp. “She’s okay. She was waiting for us to find her.”
“What if her wound doesn’t heal or something?”
I gently peel her away from me to look her in the eye. And maybe this is a very obvious sign that I’m losing my sanity, but I cup her cheek in my hand and wipe her tears away with my thumb.
Her plump lips part. She looks so fucking beautiful right now; I wonder what would happen if the distance between us disappeared.
If I took her mouth in mine like my heart has been begging me to do for far too long.
But my head is louder. It always is.
“Focusing on the worst-case scenario is never a good idea,” I tell her, blinking away the lust-filled thoughts. “We’ll face the bad news if it ever comes. Right now, I want you to think happy thoughts. Ginny is right here with us, and she’s okay.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “You’re right. It’s been a long day, and I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in months, so.” That last sentence makes my worry levels skyrocket again. “I probably just need to sleep this off, but I’m so anxious I probably won’t be able to.”
“Do you want me to show you the spare room upstairs?” I ask.
My heart flips when she shakes her head. “I want to be near her. And I want to stay with you.”
Later, when my head is in the right place and I remember all the reasons this is a terrible idea, I’ll punish myself for what I’m about to do. Now, I only grab one of the decorative pillows on the couch and place it on my lap. “Come lie down.”
Lila doesn’t think twice before wrapping the blanket tighter around her and resting her head on the pillow. On my lap.
I don’t hesitate as my hand finds her hair, stroking her scalp gently once again.
With the constant hum of the TV in the background, the darkness in the room, and my fingers caressing her hair, her breath evens out, and she falls asleep within minutes.
And as I look down at her, I wonder what I’ve done to deserve her in my life.
***
The movie ends a while later. Despite Lila’s warmth and calming presence, I’m not tired, so I put on a historical documentary I miraculously haven’t watched yet.
It doesn’t do much to distract me because my head is plagued by the sight of Lila’s tears and the overwhelming thoughts of the lengths I’d go to never see her cry again.
A while later, a buzzing sound makes my pulse jump. But it isn’t my phone that’s ringing—it’s hers. She set it on top of the coffee table earlier, so I don’t need to move to read the caller ID.
Mom.
I internally curse.
She hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in months, so the last thing I want is to wake her up. But what if Grace is calling her so late at night because there’s been an emergency?
I’m not thinking straight as I reach my arm to grab her phone, still sitting on the couch but maneuvering carefully not to wake her up, and press the green button.
“Thank God, Lila.” Grace sounds relieved. “Why weren’t you answering our texts? Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath through my nose. Here we go.
“Grace.”
The silence that greets me from the other side of the line is deafening.
“Reed? Is that you?”
“Yeah.” I don’t want to know what could be going through her head right now. “Lila is here. She’s okay.”
She lets out a surprised, “Oh.” Then she says, “Can I ask why you’re together?”
She doesn’t sound angry, which is a small blessing. I’m not sure I’d be as lucky if Cal had called Lila instead.
“It’s a long story.” When she says nothing, I take it as my cue to keep going. “We took the kids to the park today and found an injured puppy. Lila and I took it to the vet, and thankfully she’s fine. But, long story short, I now have a puppy. Lila is helping me figure out the whole dog dad thing because I’m helpless.”
More silence.
Then, she responds, “That’s…a lot.”
I let out a deep sigh. “I know.”
“I was worried about Lila, which is why I called. She told us she’d be coming home before dinner, but she wasn’t answering our texts. Cal can pick her up in ten.”
“She’s not a bother,” I tell her. Why can’t I do the right thing and take the out she’s giving me? Lila not sleeping here would be the right thing to do, a way to fix my mistake, but the thought of not being there for her when she’s upset consumes me. “She’s sleeping. It’s fine.”
“All right.” She sounds unsure, but she doesn’t press. “She’s a very sensitive girl; she must be quite upset about the puppy.”
“She is,” I answer honestly. There’s no point in lying to Grace, anyway. Her intuition is sharp as a blade. “I can wake her up if you want to talk to her.”
“No, no. It’s okay. Let her sleep. I have a feeling she hasn’t done much of that lately.” Her sigh is nothing short of worried. “Thanks for answering the phone. We were worried sick. Please let me know how the puppy progresses.”
Lila shifts on my lap, but she doesn’t wake up. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Have a good night, Reed. Thank you for taking care of our daughter.”
My stomach plummets at her words.
Our daughter.
How the fuck did I forget Lila is my co-worker’s daughter ?
That I’m friends with both of her parents ?
They trust me to take care of her when she’s vulnerable, to guide her as a mentor at the youth center. Yet here I am, thinking of taking her mouth with mine and showing her exactly what she does to me.
That thought is enough to remove myself from under her, carefully placing Lila on the couch and tightening the blanket around her. I sit on the armchair on the other end of the living room, away from her—where I should be.
It would do me well to remember Lila Callaghan is and will forever be off-limits to me.