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He hung up, and I stood from the couch, the blanket falling off my shoulders. The pajama pants were short on me, dangling just above my ankles, as Reed’s shirt engulfed my slender frame. I folded my arms like a protective shield. “Everything okay?”

Reed took a step toward me, face expressionless. “That was the local animal hospital.”

My whole heart bounced between my ribs as terror punched a hole in my chest.

I waited.

And then a half-smile curved his lips. “They have Ladybug. She’s fine.”

CHAPTER 18

Ladybug exploded through the front door of my apartment, beelining straight toward Halley as she leaped up from the couch cushions.

“Ladybug!”

I couldn’t catch my grin before it let loose as I watched the reunion unfold. Golden fur blending with golden hair. Two sun-kissed arms outstretched, waiting for the dog to charge into their eager embrace. Halley dropped to her knees while Ladybug attacked her with happy tongue kisses and a swishing tail as if the two hadn’t seen each other in years.

Peeling out of my snow-dusted jacket, I placed it on a wall hook then stared at them, lost to the moment, just like I was. It was sweet, innocent.

So goddamn pure.

Squealing with joy, Halley tipped backward on my light-pewter carpeting.

Turned out, an older couple had seen her wandering aimlessly at the park during the snowstorm and had driven her back to their house in hopes of finding the owner. They’d called the number on the nametag, but Halley had already left for her search-and-rescue mission. After a few hours of calling with no luck, they’d taken her to the animal hospital for safekeeping, away from their cats.

Halley had been right—she was at that park.

The microchip was registered under my name, considering I’d been the one to adopt Ladybug five years ago after Tara had spotted her and had to have her.

Thank fuck for that.

She straightened to her butt and scooted back, propped up against the front of my couch while the dog took up residence in her lap. Eighty pounds of matted love sprawled across the nineteen-year-old girl seated in my living room, who was wearing my favorite T-shirt and my daughter’s plaid pajama bottoms.

A dark feeling sawed through me.

Dark, clawing, and painfully euphoric. I’d imagined a similar scene on a night in late June, a year and a half ago—only, minus the dog and the bevy of external bullshit.

Halley.

In my apartment.

Wearing that same smile and one of my T-shirts after a night of hot and heavy bliss.

Fantasies.

That was all it was now; a fantasy that never came to pass and would never hold any merit in the long run. It was make-believe, intangible, and the sooner I came to terms with that, the sooner I could break free of this fairy-tale narrative that continued to poison my mind.

Hands loosely planted on my hips, I moved forward as Halley’s chin tipped up, her smile never waning. “You hungry?” I needed to remove myself from whatever lethal bubble we’d been sucked into before that phone had rung. “I can make something for you.”

Her hazel eyes shimmered against the shitty lighting of my small apartment, giving an added glow. “Can I cook?”

“I don’t have much to work with. I’m a frozen dinner guy most nights.”

“I bet I can get creative.” Halley unraveled herself from Ladybug’s paws as she stood from the floor, her outfit as mismatched as we were. “Can I look through your ingredients?”

I shrugged. “Make yourself at home.”

Fuck.

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