Page 17 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

Olive shifts so that she faces me, and I place my hands on each side of her big rectangular head. I scratch just under the ears where Olive likes it best. “You be good to this family.”

I lean forward and wrap my arms around the dog’s neck, just like Cece had. I thump my hand on her solid back. “Take care, sweet dog.”

I get to my feet and give an awkward wave but hurry from the pen before I cry. I slide back through the gate into kennel row. The dogs jump to greet me. So, I take the time to pet them both and distract my mind from Olive. It doesn’t work. A wave of sadness hits me. I head to the end of the dog run so that I’m out of view of Chloe and the family, as my tears begin to fall. I hate goodbyes. I hug myself, trying to stop my stupid eyes from leaking. The dogs gather around me as if they expect me to give them something. I’m relieved when they run off. I mentally scold myself and draw in a shuddering breath.

“You’re really going to miss that dog, huh?”

I stiffen. What was Dylan doing on this side anyway? He’s supposed to be with Popeye. I wipe furiously at my face before I grab the broom and open kennel N to clean it. With my face turned away from Dylan, I say, “She’s a great dog. But I’m excited someone’s adopting her. The old dogs usually don’t get adopted.”

“I think it’s sweet you’re so upset.” Dylan grabs the mop bucket and follows behind me to mop the kennel out. “This must be a tough job for you, though, if you’re always that upset.”

“I’m fine,” I snap. My hands are shaking with embarrassment.

“I can see that.”

I hear that annoying cocky smile in the tone of his voice. I want to scream at him to leave me alone. I realize I’m using the broom more like a weapon, I’m sweeping so hard. I pause, draw a deep breath, and mentally chant, he doesn’t matter, he doesn’t matter, over and over in my head. Finally, I can pull the broom at a more normal pace.

“Sounds like the little girl will take great care of Olive,” Dylan says.

With my eyes slammed closed in frustration, I bite my tongue to keep myself from yelling at him to drop the subject. I don’t want to talk to him about Olive. Heck, I don’t want to talk to him at all. But he’ll probably tease me more if I show more of a weakness, so I change the subject. “I thought you were with Popeye.”

“I put him away when I saw you run from the family.”

That makes me pause. He came to check on me? Is that what he’s saying?

“I’ll help you finish up here and go back to him when you go inside to the cats.”

I nod, not trusting my voice with all the emotion warring inside me now.

Not ten minutes after Chloe and Olive disappear inside the shelter, Chloe comes out with another family. “Ava, can you bring Sweet Pea, please?”

I nod but turn to Dylan. “You want to do this one? I’ll finish the last kennel and then head inside to the cats?”

“Sure, what do I do?”

“You just grab a collar and leash from the hook over there. Go into Sweet Pea’s kennel, put them on her, and then take her over to the meet and greet pen.”

Dylan raises an eyebrow. “It’s called a meet and greet pen?”

I sigh. “And what would you call it?”

He shrugs as he heads toward the collars. “I don’t know. Not that.”

I check my watch and groan when I see we still have two hours left. Dylan Scott is ruining one of my favorite places.

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