Chapter 16
sixteen
BLAIR
“I have the most fun project for you both.” Tess flies into the office, a whirlwind of excitement, coffee, and bright eyes. She looks between Bryson and me expectantly. “Honestly, I’m considering being selfish and doing it myself.”
Bryson laughs, used to her antics, and I can’t help joining in. I love when Tess gets like this. Her energy and excitement are infectious, and you never know what’s going to come out of her mouth.
“It’s that good, huh?” Bryson leans back against his desk, folding his arms over his chest.
Tess nods, her sleek black bob bouncing. “Um, yes. It involves shirtless men and adoptable puppies. You know what? As I’m saying those two things together, I realize you’d hate it. I can help Blair.”
That has him belly laughing. “Help Blair with what?”
“I’ve been keeping this quiet because I wasn’t sure we could make it work, but we’re teaming up with the local shelter to do a fundraiser. A calendar. Think half-dressed Rogues players and adorable adoptable puppies.” Tess fans her face, and Bryse isn’t the only one who ends up laughing.
“And the team agreed to this?” he asks.
“Of course,” Tess says, rolling her eyes.
“Okay, well, not the shirtless part. That’s just wishful thinking on my end.
But the photos and puppies and the charity calendar?
All a go and happening in an hour. I need the two of you to head down and help the photographer set everything up, meet the shelter people, and wrangle puppies and players. ”
My cheeks heat at the wrangling players part as my mind involuntarily flashes back to that night in LA when Logan and I wrangled each other right out of our clothes and into bed, but luckily, neither Tess nor Bryson seems to notice.
God, I’ve been thinking about that night more and more ever since our girls’ night ended up at the bar with the guys.
How pathetic am I that all it took to have me thinking about Logan again was him pretending to be nice for the last part of the evening?
So. Pathetic.
How am I supposed to watch the man hold cute little puppies and maintain the last shreds of my indifference?
Because I don’t buy the whole nice thing.
I’m sure he was trying to save face and not look like a complete jerk in front of his friends.
But I know better. I also have eyes, and the man is gorgeous.
And I know what his penis looks like. And feels like inside of me. So watching him with puppies?
This is such a bad idea.
I only half-listen as Tess gives us the rundown about the project and what’s expected of us, and when Bryson elbows me, I know I’m not being subtle about it. Luckily, he doesn’t say anything until Tess dismisses us and we’re making our way down to the arena, where they’ll be taking the photos.
“You okay? You seem distracted.” There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes that makes me wonder if he and Adrienne have been talking about me, and he suspects there’s something between Logan and me.
Or there was. There’s not now, and there never will be.
Because Logan’s an ass, and the person who had this job before me was fired for getting a little too familiar with one of the players.
So even if Logan suddenly turns into Prince Charming, there’s no possibility of anything else happening between us.
“Just tired,” I lie. “Reed made it onto the football team, and I’ve been running around after work to pick him up every day this week.”
My coworker’s expression shifts to one of understanding. “Adrienne told me. That’s great that he made the team. I know Eddie’s excited. If you ever need us to pick him up or help, we can. Adrienne helps her sister at least once or twice a week, so it wouldn’t be a problem.”
I offer Bryson a genuine smile, the anxiety that was gripping my stomach and squeezing easing up. He’s a good guy, and his girlfriend is amazing. “Thanks, Bryse, I really appreciate that. I’m sure I’ll take you up on your offer at some point.”
“Good. Now, is that the only reason you’re distracted?”
The teasing lilt of his words keeps me from panicking, but I’m still not going to talk to him about this. Not after the little he told me about my predecessor. I can’t do anything to jeopardize this job.
“Yep. That, and thinking about puppies.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Blair.”
The next half an hour is a flurry of activity as we work with the media team to get the arena prepped for the shoot and the puppies. The photographer sets up her lights while Bryson and I set up a pen in the tunnel to hold a dozen wiggly pups.
“Have you ever had a dog?” Bryson asks as we lay pee-pads all over the floor.
“When I was a kid. We had this fluffy, goofy golden retriever named Lucy. She was so sweet and friendly. I loved that dog.” My hands go still as I remember her.
The warm puff of her breath on my cheek before she’d lick my face, her soft, silky fur I spent hours petting, and the way she’d always jump into bed with me until my parents found her and made her get out.
She was such a good dog. And when Reed was born, when I was twelve, she doted on him too.
God, those were better times. Shaking my head, I force myself back into the present.
“She died when I was seventeen. We always talked about getting another dog, but it never happened. Now…” A deep wave of loss tightens my throat. “Now, I don’t have the time or the money to have a dog, even though both Reed and I would love one.”
Bryson offers me an understanding smile. “Someday. One day, you’ll wake up and realize things are easier and you have free time and expendable income, then you two can find the perfect dog.”
“I hope so.” It’s difficult to make plans like that.
To let myself dream about a future that feels less tenuous.
It’s been five years of loneliness and struggle, and I just don’t see that changing anytime soon.
Though, having friends like Bryson and Adrienne and the hockey honeys is a start. A big start.
I’m less alone than I’ve been since my parents died. Of course, everything is new and shiny, and any or all of them could decide that I’m not worth the effort it takes to maintain a friendship. But for now, it’s a start. And I’m grateful.
“Right this way,” Joe, the kind security guard, says, waving a hand in our direction. He’s followed by three women and one man hauling large pet carriers in their arms. The soft sound of whimpers and yips fills the tunnel, and a buzzy kind of excitement fills me.
“Puppies.” I bounce on my toes as the volunteers from Happy Tails meet us at the little enclosure and set the carriers inside.
“Welcome,” Bryson says, offering our visitors a bright smile. “I’m Bryson and this is Blair. Thanks so much for coming and bringing some furry friends with you. Everyone is excited to meet them.”
“And we’re excited to meet the players,” the lone guy says as he reaches out and shakes Bryson’s hand.
“We are excited to watch the players hold puppies.” The blonde woman who said that cranes her neck, looking for the men scheduled to arrive any moment.
“Yeah,” one of the other women agrees. She tucks a strand of raven hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing sexier than a big buff guy holding a little fur-ball.”
Of course I agree with her, but there’s no way I’ll admit it out loud. Especially not in front of Bryson, because I have a feeling he’d never let me forget it. But yeah. Giant, six-foot men snuggling squirmy little puppies? That’s some ovary-exploding shit.
The staff from Happy Tails continues to chat as they open the doors to the carriers, but I don’t hear any of it.
I’m too busy falling in love with a dozen furry creatures who come stumbling out on stubby legs before they crash together in a playful pile of wagging tails, high-pitched barks, and adorable little growls.
“They’re so cute,” I squeal as a tiny pug with a curly tail and slightly off-kilter eyes toddles over to me and snuffles at my fingers.
Wasting no time, I scoop him up and hold him to my chest, pressing my nose into his tawny fur and enjoying the warmth of his little body.
The puppy wiggles and yips as he licks me wherever he can reach, and I can’t help giggling.
“Who’s your new friend, Blair?”
When I open my eyes, I find five hockey players watching me while the rest of the guys selected for photos fan out around the puppy enclosure like excited little boys. Griffin grins as he waits for my response.
“I don’t actually know his name,” I reply, feeling my face grow warm as I steal a glance at Logan, whose expression is unreadable. I turn to the blonde volunteer.
“That’s Pugsly,” she offers, her eyes wide and voice breathless as she takes in the guys around me. They seem to have that effect on women. And since my heart thrums in my chest whenever Logan is around—for good or bad—I get it.
“Pugsly, huh?” Griffin bends down to scratch my new little friend on the head. They’re tall normally, but once you put these guys in skates, they tower over everyone else. “Hey, little guy.”
It takes me a moment, but I remind myself that I’m not just here to play with cute puppies and socialize with hockey players. I have a job to do. One that may prove more challenging than anticipated, but I’m nothing if not resilient.
“Right! So, we’ll pair each of you with a puppy.
The photographer will photograph you one at a time, then get a few group photos for the team to use in promotional materials and on social media.
” I stroke my chubby little friend on his soft head and look anywhere except at Logan.
“This is for a calendar to raise funds for Happy Tails, so have fun with it. Any questions?”
Griffin raises his hand and I smirk.
“Yes, Griffin?”
“Can we choose our puppies?”