Page 43 of Bodybuilders for the BBW

Rhys

Don’t stress the dog out. Don’t move too fast, don’t talk too loud. Fuck, I felt like I was back at school again, but it soon became clear why.

In my head all it took was to bring Bronson home, make clear there was no one hiding around the corner to hurt him, but instead, he baulked at the front door, clawing at the ground and not wanting to go inside, forcing Garrett to pick him up and carry him in. I’d expected the dog to run around the house and sniff everything like my old family dog used to. Instead, Bronson made a beeline for Garrett’s room, clawing his way under the bed and then curling up in a ball there.

Right.

“I need to call in,” he said, hand on his head. “I can’t leave Bronson like this. He’s obviously stressing.”

“Quiet, calm, and let him get used to us, right?” I replied before taking a seat on the floor beside the bed. I had my phone out seconds later, scrolling through the many, many emails Drew liked to send me. “I’ve got this. He just needs some time.” I dared to take a look at the dog under the bed. He was lying there with his head on his paws, watching me closely. “And I’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t.”

“Shit!” Garrett looked at his watch. “I gotta go.” He made for the door. “Call me if there’s any issues.”

“And what would he do if there was?” I asked the dog in a low voice, noting the way his ears pricked up. “Garrett will be knee deep in blood and guts. He’s a good guy, your new owner.” The dog burrowed his nose in the carpet. “He likes to save people.” I remembered the way we first met, when I was just some dumb, skinny kid who found it really hard to sit still in class. He’d sidled up, asked me if I wanted to play with him and his friends at my first lunchtime at the new school. “He’ll save you, if you let him. Now, I’m gonna get you some water and food.”

I rolled up into a stand super slowly, making the movement almost a yoga thing before padding down the hall to get the food and water bowls Rhett had bought.

Of course, going into the kitchen brought the ghosts up. I couldn’t look at that table, the nice tablecloth still spread out across the dining table, not without seeing Katie’s stricken expression. Had she received the flowers yet? I checked my phone again as I carried the water bowl across to the sink to fill. If she had, she hadn’t replied to my texts.

But she would, I was sure of it, so I filled both bowls and then carried them down the hall.

In my head, this was a whole lot more exciting. Bronson would come out of his shell, be at least happy for a pat, but he just stayed exactly where he was.

“Water’s really nice…” I said in a low voice, avoiding eye contact as I trailed my fingers through it, but he just watched the water drip off the tips and stayed right where he was. “Look, I get it. You don’t know me at all. I’m just some guy and some…” My throat closed up when I thought about what was done to this dog. The scars, they told the tale of needless fucking cruelty over and over. “And some people that no doubt looked and sounded like me hurt you.”

I met the dog’s eyes, seeing that they were a strange amber colour.

“But that’s not me. Anyone that knows me will say the same. Can’t hurt a fucking fly, not unless it’s defending someone I care about. That’s you now, hope you realise.” The dog’s tail began to thump slowly. “Can’t stand it when some bastard wants to prove himself a big man, hurting someone else for no damn reason.”

That’s when my head hit the wall, because as I stared at the ceiling, I didn’t see Garrett’s perfectly clean fan or the white paint, but her. The minute Katie told me what that prick had said to her, it all made sense. The wanton fucking cruelty of getting a woman to open herself up to you, allowing herself to be soft, vulnerable and he, what? Trampled all over the precious gift he was given with a kind of carelessness that took my breath away. My head rolled sideways.

“If you come out of there, I’ll show you.” I was talking to the dog, not Katie. Wooing her would take a whole lot more, but somehow I needed a win here to convince me it was possible. “We’ll be friends.” Another little wag of that tail. “I know Katie would be real happy if you decided to come out.”

Apparently that was the magic word. The dog climbed out from under the bed, emerging almost shamefacedly as he crept closer to me.

“Katie? Is that who you want?” His gaze kept flicking from me to the door and back again, as he moved my way. “I know, mate.”

Slowly but surely the dog came closer until he stepped over my legs and pressed his head into my chest.

“You’re a soft one, aren’t you?” I lifted my hand slowly, calmly, just like Garrett told me to, and sure enough, the dog flinched when I rubbed his flank. My teeth grit at the feel of the scars, but I kept on scratching. His leg started to kickstart in response. “Me too, mate.” I wrapped my arms around him and while he tensed at first, he went still eventually. “Me too.”

I’m not sure how much time passed. Bronson laid down on my legs, his heavy weight reassuring, and I just patted him. Over and over, long and slow, until both our breathing evened out. That’s why I nearly jumped ten feet when my phone rang. I cursed silently as the dog went scuttling back under the bed, but when I picked it up, I saw it was Drew.

“What’s—?”

“Need you to come in early,” he groaned.

“But—”

“Went with Greg to this new seafood place last night.”

“Oh.” I barely stifled a snigger.

“Coming out both ends. Popped some pills but nothing is gonna keep this down. Urk…”

I swallowed, feeling a wave of nausea in sympathy.

“OK, I’ll ring around, see if someone can look after Bronson until Rhett comes home. Leave whoever’s on the desk in charge. I’ll be there shortly.” I shoved my phone into my pocket. “Hey, Bronson, I’ve gotta go out for a bit.” I picked up his discarded collar and lead, and somehow that had him scrambling out from under the bed. “I’ll find someone to come and keep an eye on you.”

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