“Maybe it wasn’t one of them. Maybe it was someone else,” I suggest.
“Yeah, maybe. But what the fuck happened to his collar?”
“I don’t know.” I look back at Bruce, who’s lying down on the bench seat. “The important thing is he’s okay.”
“You’re right, but I need to have a fence put in and do it quickly. I don’t want something like this happening again.”
“I know you’re busy with work, so I can make some calls today if you want. I know a few people in our neighborhood have had fencing put in recently. I can find out who they used and set up a time for them to give you an estimate.”
“Better and fucking better,” he mutters, looking at the windshield.
“What?”
“You.” He glances at me quickly. “You just keep getting better and better.” My heart thumps hard, and my hand in his spasms. “I’d really appreciate you doing that, baby.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
He makes an mmm-hmm sound but doesn’t say more.
When we get to his house, we take Bruce in, give him some food and water, and then track down Mouse, who decided to fall asleep in the top of Tyler’s closet on a stack of his shirts. After I gather my stuff from last night, Tyler walks me over to my house, carrying Mouse for me with Bruce coming along. He leaves me at my front door with a swift kiss and a promise to see me later—most likely much later, because he’s going to have to make up the hours from this morning. I reassure him that it’s okay and that I’ll take Bruce home, and then I’ll get him when I get off work. I watch him through the window as he goes to his truck and backs out of his driveway, and only then do I go get myself ready for the day.
Standing in front of the tag machine in Petco with a new collar for Bruce in the bag hanging from my elbow, I type in his name, along with Tyler’s information. I didn’t tell Tyler that I would take care of this today, but I don’t want Bruce going outside without a collar and tag. As the machine starts to engrave his name into the metal dog bone–shaped tag, I pull out my phone, snap a picture, and text it to Tyler.
“Leah?” At the sound of someone calling my name, I turn my head. “I thought that was you. I wasn’t sure. Your hair is longer,” my ex, Chris, says, smiling at me from a few feet away. “You look great. Well, you always look great, but I really like the longer hair.”
“Uh . . . thanks.”
He’s still handsome, with dark reddish-brown hair, strong features, and a body he’s built from years of swimming and running. I drop my eyes and see he has a pink leash in his grasp with a small white, fluffy dog wearing a black sweater with pink writing on it that claims she’s a sweetheart.
“You got a dog?” I ask.
He laughs. “No, she’s my girlfriend’s. I was just picking her up from the groomer in the back.”
“Awesome,” I say as the machine beeps, letting me know the engraving is complete.
“You have a dog?”
“Yes. Well, my boyfriend does.”
“I see.” He nods, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “How have you been? It’s been forever.”
“I’ve been really good, and you?” Do we really need to do this small talk business?
“I’ve been good.” His eyes roam over me, making me feel awkward. “It’s actually funny seeing you. I was just thinking about you the other day. We should have lunch sometime to catch up.”
“I don’t think we should,” I reply, and he frowns.
“Why not?”
“First, I don’t think we have anything to talk about, and second, I don’t think my boyfriend would be okay with me having lunch with an ex.” Actually, I know Tyler wouldn’t, just from his reaction to the whole Charles situation.
“We were friends.”
“Would your girlfriend be okay with you having lunch with me?”
“She wouldn’t have a say in the matter.”
“I see.” My muscles get tight with annoyance.
“You see?” He frowns.
“I see that you haven’t changed. Are you leading her on as well? Making her believe there’s something serious between you when there isn’t?”
“I never led you on.” He pulls his hands from his pockets, his posture turning defensive.
“Oh yeah, you did. I will agree I let myself be sucked into the good times so deeply that I ignored most of the other crap you put me through, but yes, you did lead me on. You said you wanted to be with me, but you didn’t really want me. You wanted me to want you, and then you wanted to have the option to do what you’re doing right now.” I wave my hand between us. “You wanted to be able to check and see if there was something else available to you, something you might think is better than what you have.” I tip my head to the side. “It’s smart, really. You get to go about your business without feeling guilty, while the person you’re leading on is trying to come to terms with why they aren’t good enough for you to commit to them.”