Page 3 of Behind the Net

But I can’t just leave her here.

Her tail is wagging again, and she’s looking up at me with those brown eyes. I’ll take her to a shelter, but I’m not going to keep her.

* * *

That evening, I’m sitting in my car outside the shelter, surveying the small but well-maintained building. I can hear barking from inside. There’s a fenced-in field beside the building with dog toys and some plastic equipment, like at a playground.

In the passenger seat, the dog stares out the window, curious. I roll down the window and let her sniff.

After scouring lost dog ads online, I found a highly rated farm that takes in strays and places them with new owners. They vet their owners carefully, and the dogs are well taken care of.

This is the best shelter I could find. I drove three hours to get here.

My gaze sweeps over the place, and I swallow past the knot in my throat. I picture leaving her here, and a weight forms in my gut.

The dog looks at me and pants, her tongue hanging out.

“I can’t keep you,” I tell her.

She stands up and tries to climb into my lap, and I sigh. She kept trying to do this while I was driving. She crawls into my lap and rests her head on the armrest.

Fuck. If I knew how hard this would be, I wouldn’t have taken her to begin with.

That’s a lie. No way was I leaving her in some dirty alley.

I run through the reasons I can’t keep her. I’ve never even had a dog. I have no idea how to take care of one. My mom is dealing with some serious mental health struggles and needs me, whether she can admit it or not. I need to focus on hockey. After my ex, Erin, and I broke up when we were nineteen, I don’t do commitments. This dog is a major commitment, and I would need to work my demanding schedule around her.

And yet, hesitation rises in me. I study the building, looking for flaws. There are a few weeds in the garden. The outside trim needs new paint. In the field, there are a couple holes that dogs have probably dug. I can’t handle a dog, but I can’t leave her here.

This place isn’t good enough for her.

I rub the bridge of my nose, knowing my mind is already made up. Fuck.

“Hey.”

Her head pops up and she looks up at me, bright-eyed. My heart tugs.

“You want to live with me?” I ask her, and she continues to stare at me with that cute look. “Oh. You want a treat.”

She wiggles up and jumps off my lap into the passenger seat, waiting. I reach over to the back seat and open the bag of treats I bought for her, giving her a few, watching as she crunches them up.

My mind is made up, and I ignore the little voice in my head telling me this isn’t a good idea. I watch as the dog curls into a ball in the passenger seat and goes to sleep. I have the money to bring an assistant on this year, and the dog will be well cared for.

On my phone, I scroll through my contacts until I find who I’m looking for.

“Streicher,” Ward answers.

“Hi.” I rub my jaw as that bad feeling snakes through my gut again. “I changed my mind. I’m going to need an assistant.”

CHAPTER2

PIPPA

My heart hammerswhile I stand outside Jamie Streicher’s apartment building.

The last time I saw him in person, I had just spilled a blue Slurpee all over my white t-shirt in the high school cafeteria. His cold look of disinterest replays in my head, his green eyes flicking over me before turning back to his conversation with the rest of the hot, popular jocks.

Now I’m going to be his assistant.

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