Page 36 of Road to a Cowboy

Still, the prospect of having a conversation about feelings... A knot formed in Cal’s chest, tangled and matted.

He pulled out his phone, pausing at the missed notifications. Austin had beat him to it. Cal had a missed call from him, as well as a text.

Austin

Come over tonight so we can talk? I have pizza and beer and my mom made your favorite muffins.

As if Cal needed the incentive. Being with Austin was incentive enough.

Although, Austin probably didn’t know that given their shit show of a first date. Cal quickly texted back.

Cal

Be there at 6.

Chapter Eleven

At five minutes to six, Austin pulled a couple of plates out of the cupboard. He’d stuck a frozen pizza in the oven, and the scent of dough and sauce hung in the kitchen, making his stomach growl.

Underneath his kitchen table, Sully the puppy chewed happily on a bully stick. Judy, his neighbor, was visiting a sick friend and didn’t want to bring the dog, but neither did she want to leave him crated for an indeterminate amount of time. Enter Austin, who Judy had waylaid on his way into his house after brunch with his parents.

In the five hours Austin had been dog sitting, Sully had peed twice on his front carpet, chewed a corner of his wall, and decided one of Austin’s stray socks was now his favorite chew toy. Nothing seemed to occupy him for long, including his own toys, and he was about as well-behaved as a stray cat. The only command he listened to was sit, but only when he felt like it, and he didn’t seem to have an off switch. If Austin sat down for a second, the puppy was trying to get in his lap, and he’d had the zoomies no less than four times.

Sully’s presence didn’t make a for a great “have a serious conversation with your best friend” environment, but he and Cal would make do.

Austin had tucked Ben’s idea of a casual first-date home-cooked meal in his back pocket for later. Tonight wasn’t a date. It was, hopefully, the lead up to a redo of a first date.

The timer for the pizza went off just as Sully looked right at him and peed on his floor.

“Gah! No. Sullyyyyyy.” Per Judy, he was supposed to interrupt the dog mid-stream and take him outside. Apparently, that would help Sully learn that potty breaks weren’t an indoor activity. But Sully was still under the table, and by the time Austin reached underneath, Sully was bounding away, tail wagging, tongue lolling as though life were a game, leaving a puddle of urine behind.

Sighing, Austin got the paper towels.

Note to self: never get a puppy.

Judy had assured him that Sully was halfway house-trained. Austin wasn’t looking forward to telling her she was kidding herself.

Once he’d dealt with Sully’s mess, he crawled out from underneath the table only to find Sully nowhere in sight. A quick tour of the house found him chewing on the leg of Austin’s coffee table.

“Sullyyyyyy. For the love of god. Stop that.” He shooed the dog away forcefully, clipped the leash on his collar, tethered the end of the leash to a kitchen chair, and gave him back the bully stick. “Jesus,” Austin muttered to himself. How did anybody get anything done with a puppy in the house? They needed constant supervision. Who had time for that shit? No wonder Judy always looked so gloomy these days.

The pizza was a little crispier than Austin liked when he removed it from the oven. He was debating googling whether he could feed this one to the puppy and throwing in a second one when he noticed the time.

6:15.

He frowned, then checked his watch in case the microwave was fast.

6:15.

His frowned deepened, ice spreading through his veins.

Cal was never late.

Sure, it was only fifteen minutes, but if Cal was going to be even two minutes late, he texted.

Austin checked his phone.

Nothing.

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