Chapter 14
LIVVI
The spring morning air was warm, the sun just rising over the rooftops as I walked to work, my mind half on the route and half on the messages I’d exchanged last night and this morning.
With Talon and TheWriteGuy. My body felt heavy and light at the same time, like I was being pulled in two directions I didn’t fully understand.
Talon was … magnetic. The way he laughed, the way he moved, the way he made me feel like I wanted to lean in closer and never pull away.
But TheWriteGuy—well, he had this way of seeing me I couldn’t explain, pulling pieces of me out I’d kept tucked away, pieces I hadn’t even realized were missing from my own awareness.
And somehow, the thought of both of them at once made my chest ache with confusion, longing, and excitement.
I shook my head, forcing my thoughts away from the impossible swirl of feelings.
Focusing on walking the path ahead, my eyes landed on a small animal shelter tucked along the side street I usually passed.
I’d walked by it a thousand times, but something made me slow my pace, almost like a whisper tugging at the back of my mind.
I wondered if they had any fish I could adopt.
At first, I brushed the thought away. Adopting a fish? Was that even a thing?
But the thought of Talon’s empty fish tank glowing behind him in that picture, all beautiful coral and zero life, for some reason had my heart clenching at the sight.
Why the thought of gifting a fish to Talon would be a good idea was beyond me.
But before I could stop myself, my feet were carrying me over to the small building.
And yeah, maybe it was silly, maybe it was overthinking—but maybe it was also a way to show him that our friendship mattered.
That I was thinking of him, in some small unexpected way.
I pushed open the shelter’s door, greeted by the soft chatter of two employees and the faint scent of animals.
“Hi,” I said, approaching the counter. “This might sound like a weird question, but … do you … have any fish?”
The worker’s eyes lit up. “We do! Just a few, mostly for small freshwater tanks. Not a huge selection, but they’re adorable.”
I followed her to the row of tanks and peered inside.
Tiny neon tetras, a couple of goldfish, even a betta or two, swimming lazily in their glass worlds.
My mind wandered to Talon again and his empty tank, the way he had joked about being terrible at keeping fish alive. And then an idea sparked: Dory.
A blue tang. That brilliant, electric blue that seemed to light up the screen in every Finding Nemo clip I’d ever watched.
“Do you happen to have a blue tang?” I asked hopefully, looking around the pieces of coral and a small sunken ship.
She shook her head. “Not here. But there’s a bigger shelter a little ways into the city, Fur-Ever Homes—they’re an international shelter and sometimes here in Florida, they have exotic species, including blue tangs. I could call them and see if they have one.”
I clapped my hands together, a smile spreading across my face. “That would be amazing! Thank you.”
Back on the sidewalk, the idea made me feel happy in a way I hadn’t expected. It was silly and maybe impulsive—but I wanted to do something nice for him, something tangible that said I was thinking of him and what he’d shared with me at the café.
Although this idea of giving a fish to Talon wasn’t helping untangle the complicated mess of feelings I had for both him and TheWriteGuy. But I’d have to think about that later because it was time to focus on work and not on two guys who kept taking up all the space in my head.
The only problem was, I couldn’t stop thinking about blue tangs, their vibrant colors, the care they needed to thrive, and how I could even help set up the tank that would give one a proper home.
So, between meetings and spreadsheets, I started scribbling notes, researching water temperature, tank size, feeding schedules—anything to make sure Talon could provide the right environment if I went through with this.
I just hoped, after all the research, that his tank would actually work the way it was supposed to.
When my phone buzzed against my desk, I jumped. Looking over at the screen, an unknown number was calling me, and I hoped it was the animal shelter.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hi, Livvi,” the worker said, cheerful. “Fur-Ever Homes called me back. They actually do have a blue tang right now. I told them about you, and they said you could come by later today if you wanted to see it in person.”
My heart skipped. “I … yes! Absolutely, I’d love to come by. Thank you so much.”
She gave me the address, and I hurried to jot it down on a sticky note. As soon as I was done with work, I’d drive out to Fur-Ever Homes and possibly adopt a fish.
There was a sentence I never thought I would say, but I was surprisingly very excited about it.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of anticipation. Once work was done, I headed straight to Fur-Ever Homes, a thirty-minute drive, my mind racing with thoughts of Talon’s empty tank, the perfect fish, and the small smile I imagined might spread across his face if I could pull this off.
The Fur-Ever Homes shelter was bigger than I expected, bright glass windows reflecting the late afternoon sun as I parked. Inside, I found a variety of animals, along with the hum of bubbling tanks and the soft squeak of shoes against tile.
When the worker led me to the back row of tanks, my breath caught.
There it was.
The blue tang darted between rocks and coral, its scales shimmering like liquid sapphire. A flash of yellow on its tail caught the light, making it look like it was glowing.
“Wow,” I whispered, pressing my hand lightly to the glass. The fish moved toward me as if curious, and for a second it almost felt like it saw me too.
“She’s healthy, a good age, and we’ve had her a little while,” he said. “We don’t get them very often, so you came at the right time. You seem like you really want her.”
“Yes.” I nodded, my spirits lifting in a way I couldn’t explain. “I’d like to adopt her.”
The paperwork was quick, though my hand trembled as I signed. The worker packaged the blue tang carefully in a double-bagged pouch filled with oxygenated water, tucking it inside a small insulated box. Along with it came instructions, starter food, and notes about acclimating her to a new home.
The worker tapped the side of the insulated box. “She’ll be fine in here for a day, maybe two at most, but you’ll want her in a tank as soon as you can. The sooner she’s settled, the better she’ll do.”
I nodded and thanked them again.
By the time I was carrying her out to my car, I was giddy, like I’d just done something secret and wonderful. I buckled the little box into the passenger seat and chuckled to myself. “Okay, girl, let’s go surprise Talon.”
Except … I didn’t know his address.
My excitement deflated a notch. How did one casually ask for someone’s address without making it weird? I chewed my lip, pulled out my phone, and started typing.
Livvi
Random question. Do you trust me enough to drop something off for you?
His reply came a minute later.
Talon
Depends. Are we talking food? Because I’ll always say yes to that.
I smiled, shaking my head.
Livvi
Not food. Just … something small. But you’ll have to give me your address, and I swear I’m not a serial killer.
The three dots appeared. A jolt of nerves ran through me until his answer finally came through.
Talon
You? A serial killer? Pretty sure the only thing dangerous about you is how much caffeine you consume.
Then another message came through: an address.
Talon
Here’s my place. But no hints? None at all?
I typed quickly before I could overthink it.
Livvi
Nope. Just trust me. You’ll see soon.
I set the phone aside, my heart pounding like I’d just made some enormous leap. The box shifted beside me, and I reached over to steady it with a gentle touch.
The drive back toward Talon’s was quiet except for the low hum of the engine and the wild rush of my thoughts.
Why was I doing this? Why did it feel so important to me that his tank wasn’t empty anymore? That he had something living and beautiful to take care of, to remind him he wasn’t alone?
The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became—not about the fish, but about what it meant. About what he might think it meant.
I told myself it was just a gift, a thoughtful gesture for a friend. But deep down, I knew it was more.
Because for some reason Talon mattered to me. Maybe more than I was ready to say out loud.
And tonight, he’d know it.
By the time I pulled into his apartment complex later that evening, I should’ve been exhausted.
But instead, my thoughts were buzzing with nervous energy.
All day, between tasks at work, I’d been sneaking peeks at articles about blue tangs.
Apparently, they weren’t the easiest fish to keep alive.
They needed space, the right kind of saltwater, balanced pH levels—it was more like managing a mini ocean than owning a pet.
Still, when the shelter worker had called back to say Fur-Ever Homes had one available, I’d felt something click in my chest.
I wasn’t sure what it was about the idea of getting Talon a fish, especially one that reminded me of a quirky animated character.
Maybe because we’d talked about it at the café and he’d seemed to resonate with it when I’d used Dory’s famous line to ‘Just keep swimming’ to help encourage him with the things he was going through.
And maybe, if I was honest with myself, it was also because every time I thought of Talon lately, something warm and unsteady bloomed inside me. Something I didn’t even know how to explain.
I stopped in front of his building, cradling the small box in both hands, having taken the lid off so he could see what I had brought him.
Inside, the blue tang darted around, its bright blue body catching the light from the street lamps, looking just like Dory from the movie.
The sight of it made me smile, even though feelings twisted with nerves.
Was this too much? Too weird? Who just …
showed up at someone’s door with a fish?
But the thought of turning around didn’t even feel like an option. Somehow, this felt important.
I climbed the steps, my heartbeat picking up with each one, and stopped in front of his door. For a moment, I stood there frozen, the words this is crazy flashing through my head. Then I drew in a deep breath, balanced the box carefully in one arm, and knocked.
A second later, the door swung open. And there he was.
His hair was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and he wore nothing more than a pair of gray sweats and a fitted black T-shirt that clung to his broad chest and sculpted shoulders, showing off the lean, muscular build swimming had carved into him.
For a split second, my breath caught, and I had to remind myself not to openly stare. I wasn’t here to ogle him. I was here to give him a fish.
Which, honestly, didn’t sound any less ridiculous. I hoped I could pull it off without him thinking I’d completely lost my mind.