Page 13 of Jump

Which only makes me think of the sort-of homeless Matt from my fantasies.

He liked what he saw that night I wore an elegant gown and professional makeup. But if we passed in the street today… it’s laughable how easily he’d keep on walking.

“I just want to protect you,” she murmurs when I remain silent. “My best friend was out getting laid by a stranger. She didn’t come home until the early hours of the next morning, and now you refuse to tell me who he was.” She takes a step forward, though remains an easy six feet back to avoid the spray of my hose. “Those sound like red flags to me, Viv. And I worry about you.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry.” I finish filling the large tub I know the dogs will spill before the day is over, then I turn on my heels and head back to flip the tap off. “I was safe. He was a gentleman… mostly. He got me home alive and well. We didn’t exchange full names or phone numbers, because we mutually agreed to be completely and totally casual. We’ve held up our end of the deal, Han. You’re the only one who’s falling apart over this.”

“Because I don’t like being left out!”

She stomps closer as I drop the hose, and claps her hands to my shoulders so we stand toe to toe. Air fogs on her breath, and her lips hint toward blue. But she smiles and stares down into my eyes. “You had a nasty, filthy, one-night stand. And you walked away alive, without an STD, and without your heart broken.” Fake sniffling, she reaches up and slides a finger beneath her nose. “I’m crazy proud of you.”

“Mmhm. How are things going with Axel?”

“Oh my gosh!” she slaps her hands to her chest and practically dances. “He’s amazing. The house is amazing. I talked him into installing a clawfoot tub, even though he says, and I quote,” she rolls her eyes and lowers her voice, “‘half of our call-outs are for little old ladies who slip in these tubs. It’s a deathtrap, Sully. And you’re making me pay for it.’”

“So… it’s going well.” Snickering, I turn back toward the Friendly Paws building—which is basically just a shed on the outskirts of town—and head inside to free Treasure from her cage.

She’s our largest resident right now, so I let her out first… and shake my head when she bounces, bounces, bounces on her back feet.

I really should grab a leash and walk her out like a real, honest to goodness professional, but that’s not how I run this place. I prefer to give the dogs a sense of freedom they’re robbed of when the cage door closes again. I let them run as far as their legs allow, and spin for as long as they want to. I want to see their tongues lolling and their ears high on their heads. I want wagging tails, and bellies exposed for pats.

Most of the dogs that come through here arrive terrified. Beaten. Abused. They’re alone and lost, and many are injured. If not for our relationship with the local vet, Beckett Rosa, who basically volunteers his time for a pittance and freshly baked cupcakes, there’s no way I could get the animals the help they need. And if not for the generosity of people who live in this town and donate food and toys, I wouldn’t be able to keep the doors open at all.

Friendly Paws is run on love, desperation, and donations.

Thankfully, the dogs seem to appreciate it all and more, especially when I let each animal run as far and as wide as they desire during their out-of-cage time.

“How long until you move in with him?” I ask my, for now, roommate. And then I pat my thigh for my charge. “Come on, Treasure.”

I start outside, smiling when the brutish bundle of muscle smacks into the doorframe on her way out. Then glancing back to a nervous Hannah, I raise a brow, and laugh when she nibbles on her lip.

“Officially,” I clarify.

“I’m not leaving you.” She drops her hands and pats her own legs, like she’s been working in dirt all day and wants to clean up. She studies the doorframe as she wanders, then the field that Friendly Paws opens on to. Frankly, she looks anywhere but at me, and does a poor job of it. “I’m still on lease for another year anyway, so I have no plans until at least then.”

“Hannah?” I stop by the recently filled water tub and set my hands on my hips, while thirty yards away, Treasure chases a passing blue butterfly and snaps her teeth at it. “You can tell me, ya know? I won’t be mad.”

She brings her uncertain, scared eyes across to stop on me. “Hmm?”

“You’re in love,” I exhale a dramatic sigh. “He’s back for good. He’s signed a contract down at the firehouse, and your business is booming. The new house is pretty much done, so really…it’s okay to share your lives together.”

“We can be together without me moving in with him.” The midday sun warms the top of our heads, but the soft breeze and cool hose water in the air are enough to steal the little warmth it offers. “We live, like, two miles apart,” she hedges. “It’s hardly a long drive when we want to spend the night together.”

“Hannah Sullivan…” I step forward and hate knowing that what I want and what would make her happy are two entirely different things. “It’s okay to choose yourself once in a while.” I take her hand and squeeze. “If you’re staying purely because of me, then I don’t want you.”

Her eyes shimmer with emotion. “You don’t want me at the apartment?”

“I don’t want you to pay rent and stay there out of obligation. We’re deeper than that.” I allow my lips to curl into a soft smile. Reassuring. Even as I shove a metaphorical stake through my own heart. “We’ll be best friends forever. But creating awkwardness over eight hundred dollars a month isn’t good for us.”

“It’s not awkward,” she argues. “I’m paying, and everyone is happy.”

“You’re paying,” I agree. “Because you don’t want to leave me in the lurch. But you’re throwing money away out of obligation, when we both know you could spend it on your new home.”

“Viv—”

“Do you want to live with him?”

She snaps her lips closed defiantly, though her flashing eyes give her away.

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