Page 1 of Numbers Boy
CHAPTER ONE
Steve
THE SOUND OFbarking, meowing, and various other animal noises greets my ears as soon as I push open the door to the pet shelter. While I’m 99 percent sure Stu originally suggested we go to Pawsitively Purrfect Pet Rescue just for the punny name, I can’t deny I love the quirky way they show off their adoptable pets on their website.
Adopting a pet is just one way that I’m taking back my life after I broke up with my cheating douchebag of an ex, Adam. At first, it made sense that we couldn’t get a pet because who gets a pet with their boyfriend of just a few months, especially while still in college? But then the excuses became more and more flimsy after I moved in with him.
“Who would take care of it?” Umm, duh, I would.
“I don’t want everything to smell like dog piss.” Which is why we don’t let the dog pee inside the apartment.
“What about the new tile flooring in the kitchen?” Tile is literally made to be easily washed.
Eventually, I just stopped bringing it up.
Just like I stopped mentioning my drag performances.
And stopped wearing so much makeup.
And stopped asking where he had been the night before.
But no longer. Adam and his two- (or three or four or who the fuck knows?) timing dick are out of my life for good. And I’m about to adopt me a puppy dog.
“Oh my god, Stevie, look at this one!” my best friend, Stu, exclaims, breaking me out of my thoughts of Adam. I head over to where he’s got his long fingers jammed into a crate as best as he can to scratch the chin of a loudly purring orange cat. “He’s got your same hair color.”
I chuckle and move closer to the pair. “He is rocking the ginger look. But I’m here for a dog.” I look down at the cat, and I swear he looks sadder than he did a moment ago. My heart twinges at the expression on his furry little face. “Sorry, sweets. Nothing against cats.”
The cat, Patrick, according to his name plaque, gives Stu’s finger a final lick and then turns his tail to us with a huff. Stu gives a little wave and looks around the brightly lit space before pointing to the other side of the room.
“Alright, looks like dogs are over in that area.”
We head over to where the canines are housed, and I can’t with the level of cuteness that greets us. There are about twelve dogs in separate crates along the wall and another half a dozen flopping around a giant playpen. Each animal’s crate has an inscription, just like Patrick’s. They all include the pet’s name, a picture, and facts about them. I go down the line one by one, carefully reading about them and giving the ones who want pets as much love as I can. I recognize a few of them from my perusal of the shelter’s website.
I’m reading about Petey, a Pomeranian whose favorite book is apparentlyThe Hobbit– love that for him – when a staff member comes up and welcomes me and Stu.
“Hey, I’m Adrian. Anything I can help you two with?” a man wearing a long-sleeved staff T-shirt asks, his pale blue eyes giving us both a once-over. He’s about our age and kind of cutewith his messy black hair sticking up in every direction. I stifle a grin when his gaze goes back for another look at Stu. I don’t blame him. My best friend is very easy on the eyes, with his smooth, deep tan skin and thick, dark curls. The muscles visible even through his sweatshirt and the dimple when he smiles don’t hurt either. Too bad for this guy that Stu doesn’t swing that way. In fact, I don’t even think Stu realizes he’s being checked out. He’s too busy looking at the cute animals. I can see the moment Adrian decides that nothing is going to happen there. He turns back to me, and I fill him in on my situation.
“Yeah, I’m looking to adopt a dog. I’ve been on the website a few times and completed the pre-approval paperwork. Now I just need to find somebody to take home with me.”
“Don’t we all?” he quips, and I smile in solidarity. “What kind of breed are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure. I work from home, so getting out for walk breaks won’t be an issue. My apartment is fairly small though, so probably nothing too big. Also, maybe a little older so I don’t have to worry about potty training?”
“Sure, we’ve got a few that might be a good fit.” Adrian heads over to the playpen area and points to an energetic-looking puppy with tan fur. “This here is Nova. She’s a little young, we think about two years, but she’s house-trained and not too big for an apartment. She is fairly vocal though, so if you’re worried about shared walls, that’s something to keep in mind.”
Nova trots over at hearing her name, and I give her some head scritches. Stu immediately starts making cooing sounds and baby-talking at her. Nova eats up the attention, and I grin at how happy my friend looks. But as adorable as Nova is, I’m not quite sold yet. Adrian must sense it because he brings me to another dog.
We do this for five dogs, both in the playpen and in separate crates. Each one is sweet, cute, and fits my requirements. Butnone of them feel like mine. I’m just about to give up when Adrian bumps my elbow with his.
“I’ve got one more I want you to meet,” he says, just as upbeat as when we started, and brings us to a crate toward the end. “This is Stacy. She’s an Aussie mix, so she’s a little bigger, but she’s pretty mellow and needs someone to love on her. She was surrendered without any information, so all we know is what our vets have found. She’s fixed and estimated to be about six years old.”
As Adrian is telling me all about Stacy, I peer into the crate to find the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen. She got fluffy, multicolored fur, but what really strikes me are her eyes. She has one blue and one brown. I crouch down and hold my hand up to the door. Stacy slowly makes her way forward before sniffing tentatively at my fingers.
“Hey, girly,” I whisper, not wanting to scare her back. “How would you like to come home with me?”
She gives my knuckles a lick, which I take as a yes.
“She licked you, so you’re hers,” Stu says, mirroring my thoughts, and I grin up at him.
