Page 5 of Once Upon a Boyband
“Do you have a favorite band?” I ask as I finish with another puppy, hoping Percy is noticing my efforts. I’m asking questions! Engaging! Not hiding behind my AirPods and a playlist cranked loud enough to make conversation impossible!
Adam takes the puppy from my hands, trading it for the next one, and my entire body flushes with heat when his fingers brush across mine.
“Just one favorite? That’s tough. Depends on my mood, my location, whether I want something with words or something more chill.”
“Okay, let’s make this less complicated,” I say. “If you were to pull out your phone right now and play me the last song you listened to, what would it be?”
Adam doesn’t even hesitate before pulling out his phone and dropping it onto the counter between us. The puppy Percy is holding in place leans forward to sniff Adam’s hand, and he scratches its ears while he pulls up his playlist.
“Bon Jovi,” he says, pulling up the last song. “‘Living on a Prayer.’”
“A classic,” I say. “Good choice.”
He nods and repockets his phone. “Okay. Your turn.”
My eyes widen as I think back to my drive into work this morning. I normally wouldn’t remember a specific song without having to look. The playlist I listen to most frequently has over five hundred songs on it, and I usually just let it play on shuffle. But I remember this morning distinctly because one of my favorite Midnight Rush songs came on, and I refused to get out of the car until I’d finished the entire thing. Percy stood at my window, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as I belted out the last of the lyrics. Badly and entirely off-key. As soon as it ended, I restarted the song just to spite him and would have listened to it all the way through if Dad hadn’t climbed out of his truck and looked at me like I was back in high school and making very poor choices.
Adam doesn’t exactly strike me as the kind of man who would be familiar with a ten-year-old boyband song though, so I opt for a different favorite. “I don’t have my phone on me, so I can’t show you, but if I could, it would be ‘Just Breathe,’ by Pearl Jam,” I say.
Percy scoffs from beside me. “Uh, that is not what I?—”
I shoot him a look—he’s not about to out me as a Midnighter when I’mfinallyhaving a real conversation with Adam—and he manages to reroute his sentence.
“—what I thought that song was called,” Percy says instead, but he doesn’t spare me another eye roll.
Adam has to be able to tell I’m not telling the truth, but he doesn’t question. He only lifts his eyebrows, giving me an appreciative nod. “Good song.”
“Yeah. I think so too.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment before reaching down to pick up another puppy.
I take as long as I possibly can to examine this onebecause she’s the last one, and Adam isstillasking me questions about music.
How do I feel about U2’sSongs of Surrender?What was the last concert I attended live? Do I have a favorite Taylor Swift song? Do I agree that Red Renegade is the most underrated band of all time?
(Love it, Coldplay, “Exile,” and absolutely not.)
I feel the heat of Percy’s gaze as he watches our conversation, but I’m not about to look at him because then I’ll blush and then he’ll laugh and then Adam will know that to me, the fact that we’re talking like this is a very big deal. Percy can tease me about it later when Adam is gone.
I hand the last puppy back to Adam and loop my stethoscope around my neck. “They all look really great,” I say. “Healthy and happy.”
“Good to hear,” Adam says. He lifts the brown and white puppy out of the wagon and holds him out toward me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to save Ringo for you?”
I scoop up Ringo and snuggle him under my chin. He leans up and licks my cheek before huffing out a tiny puppy breath and nuzzling into my neck. “Oh my gosh. He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
Adam grins. “He seems to feel the same way about you.”
“Oh, this is a done deal,” Percy says. “It’s love at first sight.”
It really does feel like love at first sight. This puppy is perfect. I can’t explain it, but he totally feels like he’s supposed to be mine.
Which is totally unexpected.
I’m so busy. And I don’t have a fence in my backyard and…okay, those are the only excuses I have, but they’re both good ones. Puppies are a lot of work.
I kiss the top of Ringo’s head, then hand him back to Adam. “Don’tnotlist him for adoption, but if you get any serious applicants, maybe check with me first?”
“Can do,” Adam says. He hesitates another moment, like he might say something else, but then his eyes dart to Percy and he seems to think better of it.
