Page 108 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

As I set Otis down, she lifts her cross-body purse over her head and sets it on the table, then unzips her puffy jacket. I help her out of it and hang it in the closet. My hands are shaking.

I walk to the kitchen, my legs feeling stiff and awkward. Otis prances around, completely at home. My head is spinning. I have this chance. A chance to talk to her. I don’t know if it’s another chance for us. Is that too optimistic? Too crazy? I probably don’t even deserve it.

I manage to brew a cup of coffee for her while she pulls Otis’s dishes out of his bag and fills one with water, setting it in the usual spot.

“First tell me about Otis,” I say. “What’s going on?”

She leans on the counter across from me, where she sat that day eating breakfast and told me she takes coffee seriously and busted my balls by telling me she’d clap when she was impressed with me and I thought she was so incredibly gorgeous.

“Dennis called me. He wanted me to walk Otis. Only I didn’t know it was Otis until I got here yesterday. He called him Percy.”

“Yeah.” I wrinkle my nose. “That’s a terrible name for him.”

“I agree. Otis is much better. Anyway, I was totally floored when I heard what had happened.” She tips her head. “I was really mad at you for firing me.” Then she narrows her eyes. “You never said what happened, so I assumed that.”

“I was…bumfused.”

She chokes. “What?”

“Bummed and confused.”

Her lips twitch. “Right. So. I was mad. And hurt. Anyway”—she waves a hand—“it was clear to me that Dennis…”—she spits out his name as if she’s eating one of Otis’s dog biscuits. She apparently feels the same about him as I do—“…doesn’t really want a dog. I convinced him it would be better for both of them to give Otis back.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Holy crap. How did you do that?”

She shrugs. I pass her the coffee and she picks it up and takes a small sip. “It actually wasn’t that hard. I assumed you would want him back.” She meets my eyes. “But I can take him to the shelter. Or maybe…” She stops.

“I want him,” I say quickly.

She smiles. “You love him.”

“I kinda do. I admit it.”

Her eyes warm. “Okay. He’s home, then. For good.”

Christ. A fist squeezes my throat and I can’t breathe for a minute. I feel a stinging in my sinuses. After I breathe through it, I say, “Thank you.”

She smiles, obviously knowing how I feel about this.

“Can I tell you what you were right about now?”

She rubs her nose with the back of her hand. “Okay.”

“Let’s go sit in the living room.”

We both sit on the same couch and shift to face each other, each holding our mug of coffee. That’ll keep me from touching her, which I so, so want to do.

“You told me I was a coward,” I begin.

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” I shake my head firmly. “You were right. You were right about a lot of things. I was afraid.”

She holds my gaze steadily even as she sips her coffee, waiting for me to continue.

“I went home for Christmas. I saw my mom.”

“How’s she doing?” she asks softly.

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