Page 42 of Stick With Me
I nod, and we make our way down the hall into another office. Unlike Ada’s shared space, this office has just one desk. A woman that looks to be in her forties sits behind it, tapping away on her computer.
“You must be Hannah.” Debbie stands and extends her hand.
“Yes, thank you for taking the time to meet with me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem. I’m always happy to help a fellow rescuer. I hear you’re hoping to launch a foster-based dog rescue?”
“That’s right. I’m getting ready to fundraise and file the paperwork to incorporate. I could really use some help making connections in the city, though. I just moved back to Chicago.”
“I’d be happy to help,” she says, massaging her temple. Then, as if a light bulb goes off, she adds, “We’re actually hosting an event this coming weekend. It’s our big annual fundraiser. I know it’s short notice, but why don’t you attend? I can introduce you to some people.”
“I’d love to. Thank you so much. It’s really kind of you to offer.”
“Of course. The more dogs that are rescued, the better I sleep at night. Should I put you down with a plus-one?”
“Uh, yeah, sure, that would be great.”
Ada nudges my side and mouths,fake boyfriend.Great, more fuel for her “get Hannah a date” fire.
“Would you like a tour of our facility while you’re here?” Debbie asks.
“That’d be great. Ada has told me so many great things.”
I spend a couple of hours at Paws Chicago, meeting the animal residents and volunteers. I get a crash course in the organization’s history, how they’ve refined their processes, and the impact they’ve made in reducing euthanasia rates year over year. I take mental notes, thinking about what I can implement in my own rescue.
As we’re wrapping up, I check my phone for the time. Ryan was out of the house before I woke up this morning, but he should be done with his morning skate by now.
Knowing his schedule should probably freak me out, but it doesn’t. Unlike with Jace, I don’t feel like my life revolves around his. With Ryan, it feels mutual. Besides, he’s my friend. It’s normal for friends to know each other’s schedules.
I shoot off a quick text to him, too curious to wait until later to know what he thinks about Jace and Rebecca dating.
Me:
Hey, can I stop by the arena?
Ryan:
Always. Is everything okay? I’m heading to training, but I’ll let the front desk know to expect you. They’ll direct you to the weight room.
Me:
Perfect, see you in a few.
The Saints’ training center is pretty similar to the Dallas Spurs’, who just happen to be Ryan’s opponents tonight. Needless to say, I won’t be attending that game. The large room is filled with weight equipment, stationary bikes, and treadmills. The clink of crashing weights competes with the blasting music. It smells like the sweat of twenty-plus men, and I’ve got to admit, it’s not pleasant.
I spot Ryan pedaling on a stationary bike, with Ilya, their starting goalie, next to him. He catches sight of me and waves me over.
“Hey, Sunshine. Want a hug?” he asks, grinning wide and spreading his arms open, still pedaling away. His hair is damp with sweat, his gray shirt darker in patches, and his exposed arms glisten with perspiration.
I know the offer is teasing, but the thought of hugging his sweaty body isn’t as unappealing as it probably should be. Still, I say, “No thanks, I’ll pass.” Turning, I greet the scowling man seated one bike over, “Hi, Ilya.”
He grunts in acknowledgment, and Ryan slaps his arm. “Ouch, hi, Hannah,” he mutters before turning back to Ryan, asking, “Better?”
Ryan shakes his head, stopping the bike. We were almost the same height while he was sitting, but now, as he stands, he once again towers over me. “Let’s go over there.” He guides me toward a door that leads to a small room with a massage table. After closing the door for privacy, he turns to face me and smiles. “This is a pleasant surprise, you being here. What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t know if you saw what’s circulating online… you know, about… you know who.”
His brow furrows, clearly having no clue what I’m talking about. “Who is ‘you know who’?”
