Page 34 of 1 Last Shot

My brow furrows as I stare down at the dog that has barked at no less than a dozen people since I found him. "Make a liar out of me, you little shit," I grumble.

And yet, I exhale a breath of relief over the exchange. Because as much as it makes me feel good that I seem to be the only person that Oscar tolerates, some part of me secretly likes that Isabella is also on that list.

She pets his head and scratches under his chin, and I'm shocked to see Oscar's eyes droop with pleasure. I'm distracted only by the sound of Isabella letting out a soft and delighted laugh at the sight.

After a few minutes, she visibly forces herself to pull away and stand up. She wipes her hands on her tights, uncaring about the dirt and dog drool now messing up her outfit.

I think I like her dirty.

"Alright, well, I'm heading home," she says, aiming a hesitant glance my way. "Are you just out walking him?"

I nod. "Yeah, but we've been out here for a while. He's ready to go back." I frown when something occurs to me. "You walk around alone at night?"

”Sure. We’re only two blocks away from the apartment building.”

"Still a crime-filled city," I scold, the idea of Isabella walking around by herself at night in any city immediately making my skin itch. "Come on. We're walking that way anyway, we'll walk you home."

"Wha—? Wait, you don't have to do that," she stammers, but she trips after me to catch up as she says it. "Kane, I'm serious, that's not necessary—"

"Doesn't have to be necessary, I'm still doing it. Come on."

I hear her huff as she matches my stride. But she walks with me anyway, silent for the first few minutes.

She's too curious to let the silence stretch, though. No part of me is surprised when she blurts, "So when did you rescue Oscar?"

"About a week ago."

"Are you going to keep him?"

I let out a sigh. "I don't know. I really shouldn't. I don't have enough time for a dog, and I definitely don't have the right vehicle to transport him, so the right thing for both of us is probably to take him to a rescue shelter."

"So then why haven't you?"

I have no idea why I answer her. I’ve let plenty of her questions go unanswered, yet when Idoindulge her curiosity, it just feels… safe.

"Dogs are the purest souls in the world,” I muse. “They love despite everything, and all they want is for you to love them in return. It's hard to even stomach the thought of giving him away."

I look down to where Oscar is contentedly walking beside us. His gait is relaxed, his nose in the air, and he looks like there's no other place he'd rather be right now. My chest constricts at the thought of not having him around.

"Plus, with his deformity, there's a good chance he wouldn't be adopted out. The idea of him getting put down makes me slightly murderous."

Isabella's attention jerks down to Oscar at that. "His what? He's…?"

"The fact that you're not aware enough to notice my dog is missing a leg is making me feel better about the fact that I forced you to let me walk you home, princess," I say dryly.

Her gaze cuts to me with a glare. "Shut up, I was distracted by his cuteness.” Then a sly smile tips her lips up. "Mydog, huh?"

I frown when her point hits me, then cut a sharp look her way.

It doesn't even phase her. She lets out a low chuckle and turns her attention back to the sidewalk in front of us.

"So how many jobsdoyou have?" I ask, suddenly deciding that I don't want to be the only one answering probing questions. "Three dance schools and I’m assuming half a dozen jobs? You don’t seem like the type that would be happy just sitting around."

"Just one job," she says with a laugh. She slants a sly look my way and adds, “My hands are full with telling grumpy men to breathe correctly.”

I give her a scolding look, but that only seems to make her smile grow.

I hesitate to ask my next question, but it spills out of me anyway, remembering her conversation with her parents on the day she moved in. "What are you doing in Philly? You’re new to the city, right?” But as soon as I voice it, I wince, worried my interest is too obvious.

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