Page 40 of Just the Tipsy
“I can’t handle how adorable this is.” I dig my phone from my pocket. “Can I take a picture?”
“Sure.” He turns his hat backward so his face is more visible, and I snap a photo, from his smile down to where Sadie is. Then I take one that’s his whole face. I show him the first photo and he laughs. “I look ridiculous but who cares?”
“You look ridiculous in the best way,” I say, looking at the photo.
My phone’s camera reel is filled with thousands of photos I’d post online without a second thought. But the one with his whole face, capturing the brightness in his eyes…I want to keep for myself. The pic captures all the things I like about him and that doesn’t feel like it should be blasted out there to help us keep up this fake relationship ruse.
But on the other hand, we aren’t real and I should push that idea out of my head.
“C’mon, let’s go,” he says, picking up his backpack.
He clips on Duke’s leash and leads me along a path toward the woods that run up to the sides of our properties. Years and years of people walking through the woods created a path, which we walk onto and into the woods. The path becomes more defined once we’re further in.
It’s gorgeous out here, with tall, old trees and plants everywhere. The day isn’t too hot either, with a blue sky up above us. And best of all, it’s so peaceful. The sound of our feet against the dirt paths, the chirps of birds, and the breeze through the trees are all I hear.
“It’s so nice out here,” I finally say, even though the silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I love it. It’s nice to come out here after I’ve had a shitty day.” He loosens Duke’s leash, letting it extend so Duke can explore ahead of us. “There’s a lot of cool hiking spots around here, if you want to explore them sometime. Didn’t you say something about wanting to see the stars in a really dark place?”
“I think so? I was pretty tipsy that night, which is probably why I even mentioned the sex bucket list in the first place,” I admit. “But yeah, I’d love that. There’s so much light pollution in LA.”
As much as we both clearly enjoyed fooling around, I like this too — just being next to him. I don’t get to have these kinds of moments with many people in my life. Peaceful without the need to say something or check my phone.
“Duke, leave it,” Waylon says as Duke tries to yank up an enormous fallen branch. Duke looks over his shoulder, tail wagging, then starts to go back to it. “Leave it.”
Duke trots ahead, nose in the air like he’s annoyed. We both chuckle.
“He likes to pull up whole tree limbs,” Waylon says. “He’ll take out our ankles prancing around with it. He gets very proud of himself.”
“I bet.” Duke sniffs around, tail whipping back and forth. “Did you always want to be a veterinarian?”
“I think so, yeah,” he says. “My family always had dogs, and I was always good with them. Any animals, really. I was the kid who brought home wounded animals and helped them. My school’s 4H Club had animal husbandry activities and I interned at the clinic where I work now. It just worked out.”
I can easily imagine him as that child, his big brown eyes filled with concern for a baby bird or squirrel.
“It’s cool that you actually did it,” I say. “A lot of kids are like ‘oh, I want to be a vet’ or ‘oh, I want to be a doctor’ and not a lot of them do it.”
“Thanks,” he says. “To be honest, a lot of it was so I wouldn’t have to work at the company. I literally didn’t give a shit about it and my dad could tell. It pissed him off for some reason. He always had John David as his protégé and he was always all in, so what did he need me for?”
He looks far off into the distance, gathering his thoughts. I stay quiet to let him think.
“I think he just likes control and power. But once he saw I was all-in on veterinary school, he just kind of…stopped givinga shit about me.” He pauses. “That sounds kind of dramatic, but he’s just disengaged. Same deal with my brother Ash to a certain point. They fought like crazy back then.”
“What does Ash do?”
“He’s a musician — he’s in a band and has a record deal and everything.”
My chest seizes a little, an old reflex. Every single time that someone’s a musician or has a relative who’s one, I brace myself for them asking me for some kind of connection. Usually I say no, and those friendships fizzle out fast.
But this is different. I take a slow, steady breath to loosen the knots in my chest.
“He left town the day after he graduated high school and has only been back for holidays,” he continues.” But even then, sometimes my Dad bitches that Ash never worked for the company. I guess I’ll kind of work at the company when the shelter opens. I think Dad will be pleased since the shelter helps the bottom line. Sorry, I’m talking about myself a lot, aren’t I?”
“I asked you.” I shrug. And it’s just nice to hear him talk candidly. He’s always warm and friendly but he doesn’t let his vulnerability out that much.
“What was the thing you wanted to be when you grew up?” he asks. “An astronaut? A marine biologist? What’s up with kids wanting to be marine biologists?”
“I have no idea. I guess it sounds cool but maybe the reality isn’t all that exciting.” I snort. “I don’t know. I figured out I wasn’t a good singer pretty early, and while I like music, the whole music production thing isn’t my scene. Acting was out of the question too.”
