Page 60 of You and Me, For Real
“Teddy, come.”
His paws click against the polished tile, dragging his leash behind him. I hop on one foot to Griffin’s couch. Luke sits me down gently.
“I’ll be right back.” He scrambles to the front door and retrieves the dog carrier, placing it by my feet. “What else can I get you?”
I swipe my leaky nose. “I’m fine, really. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Luke tilts his head, squinting as though trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not a bother. You’re hurt. Let me grab an ice pack.”
“That’s not nec?—”
He holds up a finger to stop me. “No arguments. Here, put your feet on the couch. Let’s get that ankle elevated.”
Gently, he helps me arrange my feet on a throw pillow. “Thank you.”
Luke walks the twenty feet into the kitchen, rummages through the freezer, and returns with a clothed ice wrap. He holds it aloft. “Griffin has a huge stash of these. I think he wraps his entire body in these things on his training days.”
Despite myself, I laugh.
Luke wraps the ice pack around my ankle. “How’s that feel?”
I grit my teeth. “Nice.”
He nods. “Good. I’ll let Griffin know you’re here.”
He disappears down the hallway to the left, where the spare bedroom and adjoining bathroom are, except he walks further down the hall toward an office or another bedroom. Luke knocks on a door before opening it. His voice is muffled. I can’t discern what he’s saying.
Another knock sounds, this time at the front door.
I gulp, wishing I could melt into the couch and disappear. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this—broken and pleading for someone else’s help. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath, praying it’s just a package delivery.
Luke reappears and whips open the front door. “Oh. Hey, Scarlet.” His tone is stiff and awkward.
Join the club.
Wait. Did he say Scarlet?
As in Scarlet Rhodes—actress and Griffin’s girlfriend?
Oh, this is bad. This is really bad.
What will she think of some strange woman at her boyfriend’s house?
I debate between slumping into the couch, hiding behind throw cushions, or sitting up straighter like I belong here. I opt for leaning against the couch arm like I’m casually hanging out with friends.
Yeah. Totally pulling it off, too. Me, my elevated fat ankle, and my slew of dogs.
Heels clip on the entry tile. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Griffin had a guest.”
“Yeah, uh—" Before Luke can finish, she comes around the couch to face me.
She’s more stunning in person than she is on TV. Of course she is. Wearing a casual floral top tucked into jeans, complemented with kitten heels—she makes the whole ensemble look like she’s ready for a catalog shoot. Perfectly put together. Everything I’m not. Especially at this very moment.
“Hi, I’m Scarlet.”
“Hi, I’m—” I attempt to scoot to the end of the couch—to what? Get up? Not the best idea.
She holds out a hand. “Oh, no. Don’t get up.” She takes in the dogs surrounding me, and her face lights up with a smile. “You must be the dog trainer. Right?”
