Page 54 of Once Upon a Boyband
“Eighteen,” Freddie says, finally turning to face her. “But one’s a secret.”
“Hey,” Laney says, Percy trailing behind her with a chocolate lab on a leash. “You’re here.”
She’s wearing navy blue scrubs today with little white paw prints embroidered on the front pocket, and she has a stethoscope draped around her neck. She looks perfect. Beautiful. Sexy because she looks so professional.
I am captivated by Laney’s eyes and her hair and the way her bottom lip is a little fuller than the one on top. But if my reaction to her right now is any indication, I am also super into her brain.
My eyes drop to her lips, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to kiss her hello.
Can we do that yet?
Is there a certain number of dates we’re supposed to go on before we can?
I miss my chance because now Laney is introducing Freddie to Percy, and Freddie is saying hello to the dog, and it would be weird to just kiss her in the middle of all this.
I settle for reaching over and squeezing her hand. “How was your morning?”
“Good. Easy appointments.” She pauses, her mouth lifting into a playful grin, before she adds, “I’d tell you all about a successful neutering, but I don’t have the balls.”
“No, you did not make that joke in front of regular people,” Percy says. “Laney! Vet humor is only funny to us!”
I laugh. “I thought it was funny.”
“You run a dog rescue,” Percy argues. “Youareone of us.”
The words are casual. Said in jest more than anything else. But they still trigger something unexpected right between my ribs.
We moved around a lot when I was a kid. Mom was always looking for a better job. One that paid a little bit more than the last one. We changed schools three different times before I was out of elementary school. Things finally got a little more stable in middle school, and she bought the house she lived in until she died. But not long after we moved in, I was in Midnight Rush, always moving, never settling.
I’ve never really felt like Ibelonganywhere.
And this throw-away comment from Percy about mebelonging…I want that. I want a community.
I look down at Laney, who is watching me, her expression thoughtful.
I want a community, and I want Laney to be right in the middle of it.
The dog at Percy’s feet, who is the entire reason I’m here in the first place, wanders over to sniff my shoe. She sits right in front of me, tail thumping against the floor as she looks up with wide, soulful eyes.
I crouch down in front of her. “Hey, girl. Why wouldn’t someone want you, huh?”
“She seems pretty sweet,” Laney says. “Makes me sad that someone abandoned her.”
I stand back up but keep a hand on the dog’s head. “Has she been spayed?”
“No, so we would do that before you take her. We’d just…” She hesitates.
“Need the funding,” I finish. “Got it. Go ahead and schedule it. We’ll cover it, and I’ll come back for her as soon as she’s ready.”
Laney smiles. “Yay. That means you get to name her.”
I look down at the dog one more time. There’s something about her eyes that remind me of Goldie, which makes me think of my mom. An idea pops into my head. “Let’s call her Dolly.”
Laney smiles. She’s thinking of Dolly Parton, which is absolutely applicable. My mom, whose name was Dahlia, always asked her closest friends to call her Dolly—a nickname she chose largely because of how much she loved the country music singer. I haven’t used the name for any of my rescue dogs yet, and I’m not sure what made me decide to use it now.
But it feels fitting. And when Laney crouches down and calls Dolly by name, she seems to approve, her tail wagging with a little extra enthusiasm.
If it were up to me, I’d spend the rest of my afternoon standing in the lobby of Laney’s office talking, but I’ve got to be back at the rescue at two, and I promised Freddie a trip through the drive thru.
