Page 88 of Worst in Show

He reaches for my arm, forcing me to stop and look at him. “If you’re asking if I’m planning on staying here, the answer is yes.”

I’m in no position to want that, I know. In fact, I should technically want the opposite. And yet, his yes makes everything a little bit lighter.

“Not saying that’s what I was asking, but okay.” I turn to face the field. “Cholula, come here.”

Leo gets a crease between his brows. “You said your parents left when you were in high school, right?”

The lack of an obvious segue startles me. “You want to talk about that now?”

He shrugs. “I guess I’m trying to understand you. Are you guys close?”

“Well, my mom can’t remember what day my birthday is, and I haven’t talked to my dad since Christmas, so no, I wouldn’t say so. My dad was almost fifty when they had me. Mom’s a decade younger, but I don’t think I was planned.”

“I’m pretty sure Bennett wasn’t planned—at least not that close to me. It happens.”

“Yeah, it’s not the same.” I look at him, drawn in by irises that run a dusky dark blue in this light. “Look, I know you struggle with your dad’s expectations and what not, but at least he always cared—still cares, obviously, even if it’s in an overbearing sort of way. I’ve always been a footnote in my parents’ lives.” Saying it out loud brings with it a rush of tiny stabs across my skin, and I wrap my arms around me. “For a while, I thought that if I followed in their footsteps, they’d care more.”

“Dental school,” he says.

“Yeah.” I kick at a tuft of grass as I step over it. “But you’re not the only one keeping secrets from your parents.” In response to his querying gaze, I continue. “I dropped out of college. My final year. It wasn’t a good fit, and I ended up partying too hard to make up for it. Throw a bad breakup in the mix, and when time came for graduation, I told them I had a job interview out of state so they wouldn’t come. Five years later, they still don’t know.”

Leo considers this. “And you’re worried they’ll be disappointed even though it’s been a long time?”

That would make the most sense, but… “No. I’m worried they wouldn’t be. That it wouldn’t matter.” I’ve never said the words out loud before. But if my grandest failure in life doesn’t elicit more ire than a flat tire on I-90, what does that say about me? I’d rather not know.

His face falls. “That’s messed up.”

“Families—screwing you over since the beginning of time,” I say, aiming for levity. “Except for Pop. He and my grandma were always good to me.”

“So, Harvey knows?”

“He knows I’m not saving up for grad school like I told my folks. Not about dropping out.”

“Then why does he think you’re here?” Leo’s forehead is creased as if he’s trying to figure me out. I’m not used to this level of scrutiny, so I look away.

“To help him. I don’t know. He doesn’t ask, and I don’t tell. Maybe he hopes I’ll take over the store one day.”

“Is that what you want? What about your designs?”

Damn. I give a quiet laugh and stop walking. “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Sorry, I’m just interested. You’re interesting.” He smolders at me the way only he can. It pulls me in, and before I know it, my cheeks are twitching.

In that moment, I want to share all my hopes and dreams and fears. He’d tell me to go for it. That he believes in me. Look at what he’s doing for himself, how he’s reinvented his life.

The problem is that I’m not him, and I have Harvey to think about.

“Okay, I think that’s enough about me for one day,” I say, reaching out to playfully push him away. Of course, he doesn’t budge.

“Fine.” Leo grins beneath his gray knitted cap. “Then let’s train.”

We run through recalls, tunnels, and cones, and today the dogs do everything we ask of them. Leo stops intermittently to check his training book and mutter to himself.

“What does The Plan say?” I joke. “Wouldn’t want to stray from The Plan.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He pretends to hide the book from me, so naturally I try to grab it.

Soon Tilly and Cholula join us, adding happy barks to the game. It’s not fair—all he has to do is hold the book over his head, and I can’t reach it. I also think he’s enjoying me trying to climb him a little too much, but that’s when I have an idea. I stop jumping and still, one of my hands lingering on his chest. My breath is like a cloud between us.

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