Page 17 of Forever & Always You

Austin stifles a laugh as he straightens up, and to my surprise, he places an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close. “Would you like to take Teddy outside to play? Would that make you feel better?” he asks softly, the words getting lost in my hair.

I nod against him. “Yes, please.”

“Let’s finish up and I’ll go grab his leash.”

We distribute the remaining few toys, and the very last kennel on the row is home to a miniature golden poodle named Lily, who was found as a stray eating chicken wings out of the garbage. She licks every inch of my hand in an overload of excitement.

“Oh, Austin, I love chicken wings too! And she has curly hair just like me. I think she might be my soul dog.”

Austin crouches down next to me and pats the mound of curled fur on top of Lily’s little head. “Hey, Lils. If only you didn’t want to square up to every other dog, I’m sure you’d have been adopted by now.”

I give Austin a sidelong look. “Look at her tiny little paws.”

“Very cute, I know.”

“And she has a goofy underbite. Aww. Look at the way her lips are stuck to her teeth!”

“Unfortunately, no braces for you, Lily.”

“Austin .?.?.” I purse my lips, blinking slow and pleadingly. “I really think you should get an office dog.”

“No.”

“An office dog that loves chicken wings and has curly fur and an underbite.”

“No.”

“And then you hire me as the Pierce Wealth Management’s pet wrangler.”

“Fuck no. You couldn’t even look after the decor.”

Crouched together on the floor, both our hands stuck through the kennel door to pet Lily, we glower at each other. The intensity builds and builds until we both crack into laughter in perfect synchronization.

“I tried my best, Lily,” I tell the poodle, scratching under her chin.

We get permission to take Teddy out into the agility field and I wonder if there’s enough hours in the day to take every dog outside to play, because I do feel guilty as we walk Teddy down the corridor, passing all the other dogs.

They’ll each get their turn with the shelter staff, but still.

They don’t get their turn with me , and that’s a real shame, because I like to believe I’m fun to run around with.

“Teddy!” I call, slapping my hands against my thighs to lure him into chasing me, but for a supposedly energetic breed, he doesn’t seem to like running much. Maybe it’s his old age, but he seems happier sniffing the grass and cocking a leg up on the fence. “Oh. Enjoy your pees then.”

I look to Austin for back up, but he’s occupied by mindlessly weaving around a set of tall agility poles in the grass.

“You should stick to the track,” I say when he knocks the last pole. “You’re not very good at dog agility courses.” There’s a wooden balancing seesaw that I can’t resist climbing up, and I hold my body steady in the center, the board tipping back and forth.

“Concussed, remember?” Austin calls out across the field. “Get down from there.”

“But I’m so good at it!”

Austin runs over and wraps his hand around my wrist, gently guiding me back down the board until I’m safe on solid ground.

I’m getting used to the feeling of his skin against mine the more he touches me, and I debate climbing back up onto the seesaw just so I can feel his hand on my wrist as he guides me down all over again.

“This is the kind of shit you’d do back when we were kids.”

“I don’t remember us ever hanging out in dog shelters.”

Austin smiles as he drops to the grass, leaning back on his hands, long legs stretched out in front of him. “You were always so carefree,” he says, looking up at me from the ground. “You lost that about yourself as we grew up.”

“And you were always reserved and worried about the consequences,” I say, joining him on the grass, “and unfortunately, it seems that hasn’t changed. Mr. Sensible Businessman Who Won’t Let Me Play on the Seesaw. You’re such a grown-up. ”

“Hey, one of us had to be the responsible one,” Austin says, digging his elbow into my ribs. “That time you jumped into the lake fully clothed? The only reason I followed you in was because someone needed to pull you out. Couldn’t let my best friend drown, could I?”

Teddy pads over and settles on the grass with us, wedging his butt in between Austin and me. I run my hand down his back, his coat warm under the sunshine. Austin scratches behind his ears.

“I bet you’d let me drown now,” I muse.

“To death? No,” Austin says. “Maybe just to the point of requiring CPR.”

We turn to look at each other, and I hate that he makes me laugh. It shouldn’t be a surprise to me that we get along so well, because we were best friends. We may have grown up, we may have changed, but the foundation is still there. It feels so natural being around Austin.

“Teddy, did you hear that?” I ask, bending forward so I can lower my voice and say into his ear, “I think that was Austin being mean to me.”

Austin mimics me, drawing his mouth in close to Teddy’s other ear, his gaze smoldering back at me over the dog’s head. “Teddy, did you hear that? I think that was Gabby realizing she enjoys me being mean to her.”

I sit upright, defiantly crossing my arms. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” Austin counters. “You blush.”

“What?”

“You blush,” he repeats. He lifts his hand and delicately brushes his thumb over my cheek, and my breath hitches in my throat.

“Your cheeks turn a shade of pink. Spreads under your freckles. Softens your eyes.” He drops his hand.

“So if it’s okay with you, I’m going to keep being mean, because I love it when you blush. ”

The field spins around me and I manually force myself to breathe.

Growing up, I don’t remember ever feeling like there was even the slightest possibility that Austin saw me in any other way than just his best friend.

That’s all we were back then, but now it is impossible to ignore just how different things feel.

Terrifyingly different. Different enough to make my heart hammer in my chest in a way I’m yet to understand.

“Okay,” I finally respond, searching for breath. “Amendment to our agreement of being nice to one another: we get to be mean, but only if it’s playful mean. Not nasty mean. Fun mean. Agreed?”

“Perfect,” Austin says with a smile so gorgeous it’s wicked. “For what’s it worth, I didn’t enjoy being nasty mean to you yesterday. It didn’t feel right, because you were always my favorite person, Gabby.”

My heart pounds even harder, painful in my chest. “I thought you don’t pick favorites.”

Austin’s gaze holds mine and he allows a beat of silence to fill the air between us before he says quietly, “I don’t unless it’s you.”