Page 94 of Jump

Hannah sighs. “Ruiz’s heart did, too. Frick.”

“Right.” And man, it breaks me to acknowledge that loss. “But there I went anyway, handing my heart to him. So… he’s got me. All of my love. And a gift is a gift because we intend for the recipient to keep it. No strings attached. No hidden agendas. And no ‘if you don’t do exactly what I want, you have to give it back.’ It’s just…” I reach my car door and slide the key in to release the lock. “His to keep. Which means, someday, if he’s in the right headspace, maybe there’s a chance for us.”

“But how can there be?” She heads to the passenger side, but her eyes pin me across the roof of my car. Challenging. Demanding. “How is that possible, when he doesn’t have a heart to hand back to you? That’s the point, right? A mutual exchange.”

“I don’t—”

“Swap the word heart for dollar. You gave your dollar to him in hopes he’d give his dollar to you. But he already spent his money, Viv. He gave it away, and now it’s gone. You can’t grow money on trees, so unless he lies or steals, he can’t purchase anything else. So what the hell is your plan? Because I’ll be damned if I let my best friend exist in a one-way relationship, where she gives a man everything she has, but he gives her nothing in return.”

I start the car while her words ping-pong through my brain. They search for weakness and hope to bring me to my knees. But I keep myself together as I pull away from my apartment building.

Just a few minutes after leaving my home, I pull up in front of the veterinary clinic that has practically become another home for me. “Rocky doesn’t have a dollar.” I glance across to my friend and smile. Unlike that half-assed bullshit I gave her in my apartment, my smile now is real. Genuine and, for the first time in days, full. “None of the dogs I take in have a dollar to give.”

“Oh, so now Matt’s a stray dog you’d like to feed and pet and re-home someday?” She shoves out of the car and hop-skip-jogs across the small parking lot to catch up to me. “He’s not a stray dog, Viv! He’s a real-life, fully grown human, with a metric ton of emotional baggage he’s yet to deal with.”

I push through the heavy glass door with a grunt, and emerge into the small waiting room so the smells—wet fur, nervous urine, and dog—hit my senses. This is how Friendly Paws smells most days too. It’s home to me, and wherever I go, I’m certain I carry it with me.

“Beckett?” I stop by the empty front desk and call out, “Doctor Rosa? You in?”

“Come on back,” he shouts in return. “I have something I wanna show you, anyway.”

I look to Hannah and flash a grin that exasperates her more than anything else. She’s desperately trying to save me from heartache. But I… refuse to be saved.

Later, I’ll probably drown myself in ice cream and misery, because the man I love is neither available to me, nor did he remember my birthday. But then again, he warned me of this on the very first night we met, back when we were Jump and Ana. He said he would forget. That birthdays and anniversaries aren’t really his thing.

‘But loyalty is.'

So… is he wrong for doing the very thing he said he would? Or am I wrong for expecting a different outcome?

“Vivian?” Hannah snags the loop of my jeans before I can take off, and spins me back to face her. “You make me worry about you.”

“Later,” I concede, with a small tremor in my tone that lets us both know how close to the edge I really am. “Later, I’ll be sad. And mad. And completely devastated. Later, when he’s near, and yet, untouchable… that’s when I’m gonna cry my heart out—and hope he doesn’t hear me. But I have the next twenty-four hours to myself. He’s on shift, so that part of my life gets to be put on pause, and I get to enjoy this moment. I can choose happiness for now. Because if I don’t, I might break.”

“I don’t want you to hurt.” She grabs my hands and studies me with eyes that dance with emotion. “I don’t want to see you broken, too.”

“I guess I kinda know how he feels now. It’s not the same,” I amend quickly. “She died. So it’s not even nearly the same. But I gave him my heart, Han. I tossed it into his lap with wild abandon and hoped, naively, he would be gentle with it. Now… he’s almost as removed from me as she is from him.”

I glance to my left when the handsome Doctor Rosa emerges into the hall, then bringing my gaze back to my best friend, I fake a smile and squeeze her fingers. “I just want to pretend everything’s okay today. It’s my birthday, which means I get to.”

“That’s true,” she admits… albeit grudgingly. “It is your birthday. But I want dinner with you while the guys are on shift.”

“Sure.” I release one of her hands, though I keep the other, and start toward Beckett. “But I fully intend to have a third guest with us.”

Coming to a stop in front of the vet, I look up with hope in my heart. “How’s Rocky?”

“Well…” he hesitates. “That’s what I wanted to show you.” He turns on his heels and gestures for us to follow.

And while I do, my stomach rolls with nerves.

“He had a bit of a rough night,” Beckett warns over his shoulder. “He didn’t sleep well, and his pain meds constantly needed adjustment. I haven’t slept more than an hour straight in three nights because of this guy.” He opens a door and holds it wide open for us to pass through.

I’m expecting the worst, so when I come into the room and find Rocky’s bright gaze instantly on mine, his tongue lolling to one side, his front paws stretching ahead of him, and his backside high in the air, fresh tears spring to my eyes. Then a choked laugh rolls from my chest when he barks and wiggles his butt.

“He’s been lethargic,” Beckett tells me. “Uninterested in anything the whole time he’s been here. But the second you pulled up outside, and he heard your voice through the window…” he leans against the wall, folds his arms, and crosses one ankle over the other. “It was like you hit him with an electrical current.”

“You look all better!” I cross the room and lower to my knees so we’re on the same level. But Rocky charges at me anyway, faster than I could have expected, and bonks his head against mine in what I suppose is his version of a hug. “Oh my gosh. You look strong, buddy.”

“As a fricken ox,” Beckett grumbles. “He’s still too skinny, and he’ll be wearing a cone of shame in the next hour or so, before he discovers his stitches and starts picking at them.” He chuckles when Rocky wiggles his way under my arms and half-sits on my lap. “But he’s healthy. Happy.”

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