Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Laila’s tone was gentle, like she thought he’d retreat if she spoke too loudly. “Not a prince?”
“A dragon could tear our house apart to free her and carry her far away.” He didn’t say, I wish one had, but he felt the truth of it in every aching heartbeat.
Laila stayed silent, buying him time to claw his way back from his memories. Only when he let go of her did she say, “We could grow them here, if you want.” She half-turned to study his face before realizing he couldn’t follow her train of thought, and she nodded toward the open corners of their balcony. “Blackberry bushes, I mean. I don’t know anything about gardening, but we could learn.”
“Not blackberries,” he said, because how could he eat them without thinking of home?
She accepted his rejection with an easy, “Maybe something else, then.”
Jean considered that. He had a feeling he knew the answer, but it worth a try anyway: “Peaches are trees?” Her nod had him grumbling discontent into his water, but he paused long enough to say, “I will think about it.”
“Anything you want,” Laila promised.
They stood side-by-side at the railing, tending their own thoughts as the world rushed on beneath them. A man went by with two gangly Dalmatians in tow, and Jean didn’t miss the way Laila leaned out to watch them as long as she could. He thought of Cat’s weakening resolve and Jeremy’s tangible grief over Barkbark, and his determination to hold his ground as the bastion of common sense faltered.
“It wouldn’t be that big,” he said. Laila turned a look of polite confusion on him, and he clarified, “Your would-be dog. It wouldn’t be that big.”
It wasn’t approval or agreement, but it put an unholy light in Laila’s eyes. “No.”
He was going to regret this, but Jean looked away and said, “Then do as you like.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jean
Laila waited to tell Jeremy until he picked them up the next morning, and Jean understood why as soon as she cornered him in the kitchen. Jean could watch every other reasonable thought evaporate from Jeremy’s brain as Laila went over breed restrictions and basic ground rules. Jeremy nodded along to everything she said, but Jean wasn’t entirely sure he was listening. He was practically vibrating as he endlessly shifted from one foot to the next.
Laila had researched nearby shelters last night, so she handed Jeremy the address to the nearest and said, “It’s open until eleven tonight. Go after practice.”
“Yes,” Jeremy agreed immediately.
“What’ll you tell your parents?” Cat asked.
Jeremy didn’t miss a beat. “Group meeting pushed late because of Exy.”
That he could lie so easily for a dog and not his day-to-day happiness was more than a little annoying, but Jean was staying out of this. He’d done his part by consenting to the madness; everything else was their problem to sort out. Or so he hoped, but it was impossible to distance himself from this decision once Jeremy was involved. By the end of morning practice all of the Trojans knew Laila and Jeremy were getting a dog, and the floozies were hard at work brainstorming a list of names.
If Jeremy lost focus during afternoon practice, Jean could at least take him to task, but his captain went full-tilt into every single drill and scrimmage. He was out of the shower only two minutes behind Jean, and he paced restless circles around the strikers’ bench until Cat and Laila showed up.
Jean assumed they’d go straight to the shelter, but Jeremy parked at the Lofts. On her way out of the car, Laila said, “Take Jean with you.”
Jean stared at her. “No. It’s your beast, not mine.”
Laila leaned over to eye him. “Technically it’s Jeremy’s.”
“Your partner, your problem,” Cat chimed in. “The boy can’t be trusted. Let him go to a shelter alone and he’ll probably come home with a half-dozen puppies. Thank you for your sacrifice, Jean. I said thank you and goodbye,” she added, when Jean started to argue again. She gave him a meaningful look and gestured between herself and Laila. “Read the room.”
“You don’t even have a bed yet,” Jean complained.
“I have a face she can—”
Laila hauled her out of the car before she could finish and slammed the door closed. Jean pinched the bridge of his nose until he thought he’d break it and slowly counted to ten. At seven Jeremy jostled him and said, “We’re walking from here. Let’s go,” with such childish glee Jean had to put both girls from mind. He got out of the car like he was marching to his doom and followed Jeremy deeper into the city.
The shelter they were looking for was only a ten-minute trek up the road. The young woman at the front desk had a series of questions for Jeremy that Jean tuned out halfway through. Most of it sounded tediously particular, though he assumed it was all necessary: what type of animal was he looking for, what sort of home was he bringing it to, what kind of time could he devote to its wellbeing, and so on. Jean bit back his uncharitable opinion about this entire decision and let his gaze wander.