Chapter 6
SIX
JOSIE
I swing the stethoscope around my neck and gently close the exam door behind me, when Leo rounds the corner and juts his thumb over his shoulder toward the front desk. “Hey, can you take a call? There’s a woman on the phone freaking out and wants to talk to you.”
Colby? I quickly pull out my phone from my pocket—which is always set on silent at work as to not scare any skittish animals—and tap it on.
For the last few days, we’ve had dozens of text messages, giving me a delicious lust buzz that I haven’t had in a long time.
I’ve been checking my phone religiously in between patients to see if a new one popped up.
But a few hours ago, we got in a rush, and I haven’t looked at my phone.
And shit… Yep, I’ve missed five calls. I rush up to the front desk and grab the clinic phone. “Hey, it’s Josie.”
“Something’s wrong with Kona,” Colby says, her voice panicked and breathless.
“I was in the room and laid by her, and her leg is on fire. It’s so hot and red, and I don’t know what I should do, and I can’t bring her in there because I can’t lift her and I’m not sure if she’s in a ton of pain, or if I should put ice on it… ”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. This happens sometimes post-op,” I say, using my calmest medical voice. “It probably got a little infected, which is unfortunate, but totally normal. She needs some antibiotics.”
My heart pinches, thinking of Colby alone in that place, filled with worry, pacing back and forth while trying to reach me. “I’ll have the vet write a prescription and you can come get it. We always have this kind of medication in stock, so Kona won’t have to wait.”
A moment passes before Colby speaks. “I don’t think I can leave her. I just… I don’t want to leave her.”
I am pretty sure that I have never met another human who loves their dog as much as Colby loves hers.
Outside, fat fluffy flakes are falling, and the wind is picking up a few additional flurries, but the “storm watch” that the news and my social media is blowing up with seems to be just that—a watch.
“I totally get it. No worries.” I flick my wrist to check the time.
“I’ll be off work in an hour and will bring them to you. Does that work?”
A loud, audible sigh releases from the phone. “I really don’t know what to say. Truly. You are such a lifesaver, and obviously, since I can’t leave Kona to buy meds, I can’t leave her to buy you cupcakes, either.”
I smile and hate how much my heart is skipping with the idea of seeing Colby again so soon.
It’s been three days since I’ve been to her place, and the fuel I’m getting from our text message exchanges alone is running dry, no matter how many times I make an excuse to send a message.
“I don’t need cupcakes,” I say, giving Leo a little scowl, who’s darting some serious “WTF?” glances my way.
“I’ll be good just knowing you guys are okay.
I really don’t want to think of Kona in any pain. ”
I’m not doing this, I’m not doing this. The whole insta-love thing feels so much like my MO that I’m pretty sure it’s part of my DNA at this point. I’m pretty sure if you pulled up my picture on Wikipedia it would say “serial lover” underneath it. So embarrassing. So predictable.
After being with Zoey for a decade, when we split, I dated several women and I fell hard for every single one, almost immediately.
We’d sleep together, I’d think I was in love, it would be an amazing honeymoon period for a few weeks, until a sickly realization seeped into me that, yep, I did it again.
I’d go through a few weeks of mourning that I’d reverted back to old behaviors, vow to take up some hobby other than the need to find love, and then find myself doing it again.
Even the year I spent trying to win my ex back, I was dating and trying to fill a void.
But four months ago, I stopped, cold turkey.
No more women until I figure out what it is that I’m searching for, and until I’m ready to be a partner.
A good partner. Someone who is reliable and stable and has their shit together.
Which I already know I do not. So, yes. I can be friends with Colby.
Friends is good, healthy, wonderful even.
But absolutely no more. And if my insides don’t get this message soon, I’m going to have to badger them into submission.
On the way out to Colby’s home, the wipers squeak against the falling, fluttery snow.
My gym bag is next to me on the passenger seat, all prepped with the clothes I was going to wear tonight while going to a YMCA in a neighboring city to try a barre class.
I was really excited for the class, but spending time with Colby and Kona sounds way more enticing.
The setting sun is beautiful, a gold-and-fuchsia stream pushing through the pine trees, casting a glittered glow on the setting snow. I crack open my window and pull in some crisp, dry air as I make my way up the windy hill.
When I pull up, Colby is outside, shoveling off snow from the patio.
She scrapes off a final chunk and tosses the snow over to the side with a heavy plop, and rests the shovel against the side of the house.
Christ, I am a walking cliché, but is there anything hotter than watching a beautiful woman do some outdoorsy manual labor?
And that will be the final indecent thought I allow myself for the rest of the night. Switching to friend mode… now.
“Hey, you,” I say as I step out of the car, holding a bag of supplies. “You doing okay?”
Colby nods with her mouth twisted down, and I see the worry from all the way over here. It’s the same face I saw for hours at the clinic, and to the deepest part of me, I want to hug her again and take away her fear.
“I’m just really scared for her,” she says, clapping off the snow from her gloves. “I hate seeing her like this. She can’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t reason with her. I just… I feel so helpless. It’s the absolute worst.”
“She’s going to be okay. This is totally normal, but I know it can be scary as hell when it happens.
” At the outdoor mat, I stomp the snow off my tennis shoes and step into the house, and whoa.
A gush of something hearty and savory, with onions and beef, fills the air.
My stomach immediately growls, and I definitely regret not finishing my leftover Thai takeout for lunch.
Colby takes off her jacket, and oh… okay. Swapping out her oversized hooded sweatshirt for a snug, white Henley makes my mouth water more than it should. Rounded shoulders, full breasts, taut stomach. Dear God. I had no idea all that was under there.
Cool, cool. Focus on the dog.
“Oh, sweet girl, what do we have going on here?” I say as I peer down and look at Kona’s inflamed, red skin.
Colby’s crouching next to me, close, enough where I get a small whiff of that soft lavender scent.
I shift away. “Can you grab Kona a high-value snack? Something that we can give her to take this antibiotic. And a few towels.”
“Yes. Be right back.” Colby hurries out of the room, thankfully, because I need to pull it together. I’m around her for exactly two minutes and getting some thoughts, and I should not be having thoughts.
I grab a few things out of my bag and line them up on the cedar coffee table, when Colby returns with several towels and a cheese stick. As I work on laying out the items, Colby stuffs the pill in the cheese, then gives it to Kona.
“This really isn’t too bad,” I say, looking at the area surrounding Kona’s stitches.
“But I’m going to clean it a bit. Just so you know, you really shouldn’t do this on your own.
Some people do hydrogen peroxide, soap, all sorts of things, and it makes it so much worse.
The last thing we want is to make her infection worse by doing some sort of funky home remedy.
” I dig out the sterile saline solution, gauze, and tug on latex gloves.
“If you can just comfort her and keep her steady, we should be able to do this pretty quickly.”
Colby removes Kona’s cone and rests the dog’s head in her lap.
She strokes her head and the top of her ears.
We work together silently, with the exception of a small tune that Colby’s humming to Kona.
I’m not even sure Colby knows she’s humming, but as I peek at her from my peripherals, a warmth fills me.
The love inside this woman is so obvious, so massive, that my heart swells.
After I flush the wound, I soak the gauze in the sterile solution, and with the most tender touch I can manage, clean the infected area. Kona is an absolute champ and barely moves during the procedure. Once finished, Colby reattaches the cone while I clean up all the supplies.
At the farmhouse-style deep kitchen sink, I peek out the window at the woods in the backyard, at least as far as I can see, as I wash my hands.
Endless amounts of trees span through the dark and falling snow.
It’s so pristine, the outside holding a sense of calm that I really don’t see anywhere else.
I stare for a bit longer when Colby moves into the kitchen, hands me a towel, and digs out a wooden spoon from the drawer.
“I’m starting to wonder if there is another phrase that I can use besides thank you,” she says as she lifts the lid to a large pot on the stove and leans in to smell the hearty steam.
“I seriously owe you, and I don’t know how to repay you.
Do you accept Venmo? Flowers? My left kidney if you may ever need it? ”