5. Avery
5
AVERY
“Guess Haley wasn’t kidding,” I say, shaking my head. We’ve tried every known dog trick there is—treats, toys, encouragement, stern mom tone, and even a promise of chasing a real live squirrel—to get Henry to move from his spot since he decided halfway around the park loop that he was simply done. His furry butt may as well be cemented to the grass. “He really is stubborn.”
“Stubborn doesn’t begin to describe it,” Micah teases, his thumb brushing mine.
We’re sitting in the grass, leaning back on our palms with legs stretched forward as we’ve done hundreds of times after long walks or on the rare occasions Micah’s convinced me that going for a light jog was a good idea. But that doesn’t stop the tingle of electricity caused by his simple, barely there touch.
“What do we do?” I ask, staring at Henry. Because if I look at my hand, I might do something I will later regret. Like crawl into Micah’s lap and kiss him. The sensible thing to do would be to pull my hand away. But I haven’t exactly been sensible lately.
“There’s only one thing we can do.”
“What’s that?”
Micah pops to his feet, and oddly, I notice the absence of him beside me immediately. As though someone yanked away a cozy blanket I’d had wrapped around me. I inwardly shake my head, not willing to untangle that thought. He’s…comfortable. Familiar. That’s all. You’re just full of lies today, aren’t you ?
“I’ll carry him,” Micah says.
“He’s seventy pounds!”
“Your point?”
It occurs to me that he’s trained to carry human beings out of burning buildings. A stubborn old man dog who weighs less than a young adult should be nothing. “But your truck’s halfway across the park.”
Micah scoops the senior golden into his arms and stands, as though the dog weighs nothing at all. I gulp a swallow, wondering if he’d be able to sweep me off my feet just as easily if he was suddenly inclined to carry me down the hall to his bedroom. Would he do it as effortlessly as he’s carrying Henry halfway across the park now?
Get it together, Avery!
But Henry, held like a baby, has the audacity to fall asleep in Micah’s arms before we reach the truck. His chin resting on Micah’s shoulder. I can’t resist the urge to snap a couple of photos.
Micah’s not even breathing heavily when we reach his truck and he sets the tired pup in the back seat. With eyes still mostly closed, Henry stretches out, releases a heavy sigh, and drifts right back to sleep.
“We didn’t walk that far,” I point out, buckling my seat belt as Micah gets in the driver’s seat. I know he’s a senior, but I can’t help my feelings of concern. If he was my dog— don’t go there, Avery.
“Maybe he’s just not used to all the stimulation,” Micah answers. “Or maybe he’s just a stubborn old man who knows what he likes.”
“Which is?”
Micah glances in the back seat, then locks his blue eyes with mine as that crooked grin graces his lips. Lips I’ve secretly fantasized about kissing since college. But until the past couple of weeks, I’ve been able to keep that desire shoved way down. “Naps.”
I glance back at Henry and swear I see a sleepy smile.
“Where to now?” I ask.
“I was planning to grab a pup cup, but maybe we should take him back to the house first. Let him sleep off his excitement.”
“There were a ton of squirrels taunting him,” I agree. Not to mention the half dozen kids who were eager to dote on him.
We drive back to the house like we have dozens of times in the past year of living here together. Only today, the air feels charged as Micah carries Henry inside. If the stubborn dog wasn’t wagging his tail, I’d be worried we overexerted him.
“Where are you taking him?” I ask Micah, following him through the living room and down the hall.
“My room.”
“Why?”
“Since we don’t have a dog bed, I thought I’d let him sleep on mine.”
Be still my fucking heart.
Any chance that I had this little crush under control vanishes in a single heartbeat. I don’t have a damn thing under control. Which is why I really should retreat to my own room and work while Henry naps. If my own bed wasn’t covered in all the work I still need to get done today, I’d insist he bring the dog to my room.
Instead, I follow the duo like I’m the lost puppy.
After all, we only have Henry for another couple of hours. I want to soak up every moment I can with him.
At least that’s my justification for climbing onto Micah’s bed. God, the comforter smells like him. The delightful woodsy spice scent that lingers on all his t-shirts, even after they’ve gone through the washing machine.
“Thank you,” I say, a yawn escaping as Henry curls against my front side.
“For what?” Micah asks, kicking off his shoes.
Exhaustion pulls me under as Micah positions himself on the opposite side of the bed, Henry between us. I let out a yawn as my eyes fall closed and lazily mumble an answer. “You know what.”
I drift off to sleep, my hand resting on a gently snoring Henry, a smile on my lips.
When Micah enters my dreams, I forget why I should fight the fantasy and don’t bother trying. He struts to me, wearing his firefighter coveralls, one shoulder strap open to reveal nothing underneath, as he carries Henry. That lopsided grin is laced with an extra dose of sexiness, and I bite down on my bottom lip.
Micah’s cobalt blue gaze is trained on me as he sets Henry down, the pup happily trotting around the yard—our yard?
“Your turn,” he says, closing the distance between us in quick, purposeful strides.
“My turn for what?” The words sound innocent leaving my lips, but I know they’re anything but.
With only a sinful smile in answer, Micah scoops me into his arms and carries me inside. I snake my hand around his neck and kiss him. And god does that kiss ignite every fiber of my being at first contact. Wetness pools between my legs as I deepen the sinfully delicious kiss. My shirt is pulled off before we even make it to the bedroom. I can’t seem to stop kissing him as I pull myself tighter against him, opening my mouth to invite in his tongue.
Henry barks.
My eyes flutter open.
Where am?—
Shit! I’m straddling Micah. I look down in horror to discover my best guy friend grinning like a fool. I actually kissed Micah. It wasn’t just a dream. I pat my chest, relieved I’m at least still wearing my shirt. “Where’s Henry?”
The pup sidles up to the side of the bed, tail wagging.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
“Avery,” Micah says, cupping the side of my face. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not!”
In my pitiful attempt to untangle myself from Micah, I accidentally rock my hips into him. I’m forced to swallow a moan. If I had any concerns about whether or not he enjoyed our little accidental make out session, the bulge in his jeans I rub up against puts that concern right to bed.
“Hey,” he says, catching me by the wrist before I can fully get away. “Avery, we need?—”
“It’s almost seven,” I say, so fucking thankful that time is actually on my side for once. “We have to get Henry back to the shelter.”
“Or he could stay,” Micah says.
I stare at him for several seconds before what he’s trying to say sinks in. Any lust or shred of embarrassment dissipates, instantly replaced by anger. Now it all makes sense. Micah signed Henry out of the shelter not to support Haley’s new program. Oh no. He was hoping to convince me to adopt him. Despite how adamant I’ve been about that not being a realistic possibility.
My heart breaks open, wishing like hell I could make it work. But because I know it’s not possible, I let anger fill in the cracks. “I fucking hate you right now.”