Chapter 7

I'd used my sweatshirt to wrap up the little brown-and-white beagle so I could get her off the road, and maybe someone had taught her the no-whining rule, too, because even though I was sure she had to be in pain, she didn't make a sound as she stared up at me while we both waited for Daddy.

"Shh," I said anyway, trailing my fingers as lightly as I could over her sweet little face. "He'll be here soon. He'll, um, he'll take care of us."

She didn't blink or wag her tail. She'd barely looked away from me since I'd carefully carried her over here to the curb, like she was worried I'd disappear if she closed her eyes, even for a second.

But somehow, it still felt like she'd heard me.

Like she believed me, even though I was having trouble with that myself.

I still couldn't quite wrap my head around the fact that Daddy was really coming. That he'd interrupted whatever it was he was doing, something with Juan, I knew, to come help me, just because I'd asked.

Not that I hadn't believed him when he'd said I could call if I ever needed him, but…

Well, maybe I hadn't?

Not like I'd thought he was lying, but just… I was surprised. Not that the word was big enough for the overwhelming relief that had hit me when he'd said he was on his way, but I was the best I had.

The street we were on was residential, and not that busy. Maybe why the car that had hit the beagle had thought they could get away with speeding?

I couldn't think about that right now, though. It made me feel mad and helpless and mad, so I shoved it and kept my eyes peeled for Daddy's car.

Not that I knew what he drove.

Oh God, not that I even knew what he looked like, so how would I recognize him when he came?

I blew out a gusty breath, trying to calm down. It was fine. It was all going to be fine. I didn't have to recognize him. He'd find me, because I was the only guy sitting here with a hurt dog on his lap.

Not really the first impression I wanted to make.

"Oh my God," I whispered, my fingers trembling on the sweet little dog's cheek as it hit me that I was about to meet him in person. Exactly what I'd both convinced myself might never happen and also been low-key freaking out over all week. "What if, um, what if he doesn't like me in person?"

Something warm and wet and as light as a butterfly's wing nudged my finger.

The dog had licked me.

I grinned, forgetting my anxiety about Daddy for a second. "Yeah? Does that mean you like me? That you're feeling better?"

She didn't do it again, but her eyes started to drift closed, and just as fast as the stupid bit of happiness had hit me, it fizzled out again.

"Please be okay," I whispered. "I'm sure he'll be willing to drive us to a vet. And um, I can even give him gas money or something? And I'll pay for it even if we have to wait a few more months to get the plumber out."

My parents would be pissed if I used the house money for something like that, but I couldn't think about that right now. I didn't exactly blame Tyler for giving up on this little girl, I just couldn't make myself do the same thing. I didn't even know how.

I bit my lip, worried for a second that I was being really, really stupid.

As much as I wanted to deny it, she did not look good. And I knew that vet bills could get, well… really high.

But I could get a job?

I mean, sometimes managing the house felt like a full-time one, between trying to do all the budget stuff and all the YouTube I'd watched to try to fix things and keep up with the maintenance. Thankfully, my parents had agreed to let me have a little bit of the rent money every month for like, food and necessities so I hadn't had to actually get a paying job yet.

But I could?

Maybe at the pizza place?

A car turned onto the road, making me sit up straight and my pulse skitter with nerves. But no, there was a woman driving it, and she passed by without hardly glancing at us.

"I promise," I told the dog, "he'll be here soon."

He hadn't actually said where he was coming from, but I had to believe that. I had to.

The dog had her eyes all the way closed now, and when I gently stroked her little black nose, I had to stifle down a helpless sort of panic.

It was hot and dry, and that wasn't right, was it? I didn't know if it was actually a sign of injury, but I did know it meant dehydration, and that couldn't be good.

Did she even have an owner?

Did anyone take care of her?

Why had she been running in the street anyway?

But most importantly, why didn't I know more? I didn't know what to do with her. I didn't even know if I'd hurt her by carrying her over here, but I had to, didn't I? She'd been right in the middle of the road. But what if I'd really messed up?

A big truck turned onto the road. Oregon wasn't quite as far north as Wisconsin, but it still stayed light pretty late this time of year, so I could tell it was a dark color. Blue? Gray?

God, why hadn't I asked Daddy what he'd be driving?

But then it started to slow, and it was like everything inside me slowed down, too. Calmed down.

Of course this was Daddy's truck. And of course the man who stepped out of it, the man who I somehow knew was my Daddy before he even said a word, would look like he could have doubled for that actor who played Thor.

It only made sense, because he'd come to save me. Well, the dog, but somehow it felt like he was here for me, too. So how could he ever have looked like anything else but a superhero?

"Daddy?" I asked anyway, hopping up to my feet as a whole different kind of panic replaced that initial moment of calm.

Oh God. I didn't even have to be gay to realize that he was completely smoking hot… and then there was me. Skinny and small and plain, kind of dirty from moving the dog and shivering a little without my sweatshirt, even if the nights here didn't get as cold as they had back home.

And it shouldn't matter.

He was here for the dog.

But somehow it felt like it did, and I just wished I could be… more.

And then, to my total horror, the minute he actually got in front of me and smiled, I burst into tears.

"Hey now, come here sweetheart," he murmured, his voice somehow soothing and rumbly, both at the same time. "It's going to be just fine."

He pulled me into his arms, and it should have been weird because who hugs? No one I know. But it didn't. It felt like coming home, and for a brief, glorious second, I didn't worry about the fact that I wasn't just crying—which I never do; well, at least not in public—but ugly crying all over him while I clung to him, like some kind of baby monkey who didn't want to fall out of the tree.

Then I came to my senses and embarrassment just about incinerated me as I pulled away and ducked my head, pulling up the bottom of my t-shirt to wipe my face.

"Um, sorry," I mumbled, gesturing at the dog. "Uh, this is her? And I was hoping, um, if you have time, you could maybe drive us to a vet? Google says there's one about two miles away that has an, um, an after-hours emergency thing."

"Baby," he said, tipping my chin up.

And oh my God, who had eyes like that? I didn't even know what color to call them. Green? Blue? Bluegreen? Magic?

He smiled.

"Breathe."

"Oh, okay," I whispered, doing it when I realized that, for some reason I had no explanation for, his smile had made that feel impossible for a minute. Like it had sucked all the air out of me, but replaced it with something better.

"Good boy," he murmured, brushing rough fingers over my cheeks, callused because of course they were—he did construction—but still really, really nice-feeling.

Then he leaned down and kissed my forehead, making every single piece of me melt into a puddle.

"I will always have time for anything you need, and of course we'll take the dog to the vet. Let me get her in the truck, and you can give me directions."

"Okay," I breathed out, that same slow, calm sensation that I'd felt for a second when I first saw him stealing over me all over again.

He smiled again, and I smiled back automatically, like our lips were somehow connected.

And suddenly I couldn't breathe again.

"Go get in the cab of the truck, sweetheart."

Oh. Right. I should… move.

I nodded, and as soon as I did that, heading toward his truck like he'd told me to, he gave me what I hadn't realized I was waiting to hear again.

"Good boy."

I ducked my head, my cheeks suddenly feeling flushed as I got into the cab.

It smelled like him. He'd only hugged me for a second, but the scent already felt like it was somehow imprinted on my brain.

He was right behind me. He carried the beagle to the bed of his truck, and for a split second I worried about her back there. But then realized that no, it would be easier on her this way. The truck seemed pretty new, so it didn't have one of those long, single seats where Daddy and I would have had to sit right next to each other with room for the dog, too. It just had two regular ones, so she would have had to scrunch up in my lap if he'd brought her to the cab and that might have hurt some of her, uh, insides.

I swallowed hard, suddenly mad at myself for getting so distracted by him that I'd forgotten for a second just how badly the sweet little beagle was hurt.

I dashed at my cheeks as he got into the driver seat.

"Seatbelt, sweetheart."

"Oh, right, sorry," I said, snapping it into place as he started the truck.

"No need to be sorry," he said, pulling away from the curb and resting his hand on the center console between us, almost like an invitation. "I'm proud of you, taking care of the pup and calling me to help. You did good, baby. And we'll make sure she gets the best care she can. Do you want to tell me where to go?"

"Oh! Um, yeah. Thank you."

I did, stealing another peek at his hand out of the corner of my eye as I read off the directions from my phone.

"Okay," he said. "We should be there in just a couple of minutes."

I nodded. It was just… resting there. His hand I mean.

Was I allowed to hold it?

I mean, that would be weird. Maybe he just liked to drive that way for some reason?

I made myself stop looking at it, clearing my throat. "Um, I don't have a credit card but I've got checks for the house account." Oh God, my parents were going to kill me. "Like, you know, the paper kind? Do you think that will be okay for paying the vet? Would a place like that even take them?"

He looked over at me for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. "I've got it, baby boy."

"Got what?"

He looked over again, then reached out and took my hand, lacing our fingers together and not seeming to mind at all when I did the whole clinging-like-a-baby-monkey routine again. Except, you know, just with my hand this time.

"I'll take care of the vet expense," he said, the words taking a minute for my brain to make sense of since I hadn't held hands with anyone since Hannah, and this was totally different and a little overwhelming but also really, really nice.

Then what he'd said hit me, and I jerked my eyes back up to his. "What? Um, why? She's not your dog."

He laughed, low and kind of quiet, and my stomach did a weird fluttering thing. "No, she's not."

I bit my lip. "I think it might be expensive. Like, really expensive."

My eyes welled up with tears again, and I ducked away from him, trying to wipe them on my shoulder because now I guess I was clinging onto his hand with both of mine?

Ugh, when did I even do that?

But Daddy still didn't seem to mind, and then we were at the emergency clinic and I stopped worrying so much about how weird he must think I was, crying all the time and clinging like this, because the beagle needed us. Well, she needed the vet. Who said that she might make it but that it meant immediate surgery which would be super expensive, which almost had me panicking until Daddy just wrapped me up in another hug like he'd done right at the beginning and told the vet to please do whatever was necessary and not worry about the cost.

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't even think I had words.

I tried anyway, as soon as they took the dog to the back, leaving us in the bright, sterile lobby.

"Um, thank you. I'm not sure when I can pay you back, but?—"

He put a finger over my mouth, shushing me. "No."

"No?" I mumbled, not minding his finger there even though it made the word come out garbled.

Daddy smiled. "That's right, baby. You're not paying me back. I told you, I've got this. Just let me take care of it. You don't need to worry about anything other than being here to give the pup a friendly face when she wakes up."

My eyes teared up again, but I blinked it away fast. "Oh. Okay." My chest felt so tight I could barely talk. "I can do that. Um, do you want me to text you when she comes out of surgery? I mean, just to tell you how it went."

He cocked his head to the side, looking down at me like I was a puzzle. Then he chuckled, low and soothing again, and pulled me over to some chairs they had set up near a shelf of high-end dog food.

He sat, then tugged me down next to him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders so I kind of had to lean against him, which I assumed meant he wouldn't mind.

And then he kissed my forehead again.

"You don't need to text me. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, why don't you tell me everything you know about beagles while we wait."

So I did, half expecting him to change his mind and get bored the whole time.

But it never happened. And when the dog got out of surgery and they told us she didn't have a microchip so they didn't know who she belonged to, Daddy said she could go home with him when I started to panic about my parents' no-pets rule for my house. He said he'd take care of her, even though that meant checking on her a few times during the night and maybe not getting much sleep.

So I… I asked him if maybe I could come home with him, too.

To help.

Just for the one night.

So it wasn't so much of a bother.

And it made my stomach do that weird fluttering thing all over again when he smiled at me, his eyes definitely the color of magic, even if that didn't make sense… and said yes.