Page 32 of The Lineman

But I had to.

I had work.

I had a life.

And yet—

Mike followed me to the door, running a hand through his hair, his glasses slightly crooked, and I was suddenly very aware of how close we were standing.

The air shifted.

He looked up at me, hesitating.

I took half a step forward.

He swallowed, his fingers twitching at his sides.

I could see the thought forming in his head, the same thought forming in mine.

This was it.

I was going to kiss him.

I reached up and straightened his glasses, enjoying how he flinched, then leaned into the gesture.

And then—

BAM!

Something slammed into my leg with full force.

“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF—”

I stumbled back as Mike’s demon dog latched onto my leg with determination and joy.

“HOMER, NO!” Mike yelped, scrambling to grab him.

The dog wagged his tail wildly, humping my calf like it was his last chance for love.

I blinked.

Mike blinked.

Then I burst out laughing.

Mike looked fully destroyed, face red, as he hauled Homer off me like a football and held him against his chest.

“I swear, this is not a thing he does!”

I smirked, brushing off my pants, thankful my hands came away clean and dry. “Mm-hmm.”

Mike groaned, face in one hand, squirming pup in the other. “I hate my life.”

I grinned, stepping back. “Well, this has been an experience, Professor Albert.”

Mike peeked at me between his fingers. “Are you still going to call this a good date?”

I gave him a smile. “Definitely.”

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