I sip my coffee and go back to reading the news. After ten minutes, I'm thoroughly depressed and shut the laptop down. I stand from the chair, ignore my puzzle, which is what I really want to do, and head into my kitchen for another cup of coffee. Halfway there, I'm frozen by a knock on my door.
Without knowing for sure, I just know it's Reed. I've got no close friends here who would just stop by, and I know none of the other neighbors. Unless it's someone selling something, it has to be Reed, and this is a gated community, so there are no unwanted solicitors.
I set my cup on the table as I walk through the living area. My town home layout is similar to his. The units are long and narrow. The main floor is just the living room leading into a kitchen with a powder room to the side. Upstairs there are two bedrooms, one on the front and one on the back. Downstairs is a bonus room that I set up a small office in, but I hardly ever go down there. I prefer to sit at my kitchen table or my couch with my laptop if I have to catch up on reports or respond to emails.
Going to my tiptoes and leaning in, I put my eye to the peephole.
Yup. Hot, charming hockey player on the other side.
So damn charming. Buying pizza and making fireworks available to me. A jigsaw puzzle, which we worked on for about half an hour before large yawns caused him to chase me out of his house.
After a deep breath, I open the door and give him a brilliant smile. "Morning, neighbor."
"Morning," he says with an answering smile, then pushes right past me into my house.
"Come on in," I mutter, but secretly I have to say this is a nice surprise.
Reed chuckles as he walks right through my living room and into the kitchen. I watch bemused as he roots around in my cupboards until he finds a mug and pours himself a cup of coffee.
"Cream is in the fridge," I say as I walk in behind him and head to the coffeepot to refill my own mug.
"Just black," he says, and blows over the top of the liquid. He takes a small sip and makes a grunt of what I think is appreciation.
I take mine black too, so I lean a hip against the counter and take a tiny sip of mine before asking, "So, what's up? Nothing better to do than bug me?"
Reed grins. "Well, I had a date with Porn Star Barbie today, but just wasn't feeling it."
My nose wrinkles. "Ewwww."
"Just kidding," he says with a laugh. "It was actually Catholic School Girl Barbie, but frankly, knee socks and those dorky little black shoes really aren't my thing."
I smirk, because I know he's kidding about all of it. Clearly, this Barbie thing is going to be a running joke between us...us...friends? Buds? Neighbors?
I give a small mental shake of my head.
Friends. We are definitely friends. Night before last we ate pizza and joked around while working on a puzzle. We did what people typically do when getting to know each other. Talked about our families and how we grew up, finding that our backgrounds were very similar.
Both of us are from fairly affluent families. My dad's a doctor, his is a lawyer. I have a sister, he has a brother, but our extended families are swollen with aunts, uncles, cousins, and babies galore.
It was an easygoing night, and as I was walking back home, exhausted and ready for a shower and bed, I realized that it had all been so natural and easy. There was no awkwardness, and conversation wasn't stilted. Perhaps because there was no expectation that it was anything more than pizza, fireworks, and puzzles, but I spent maybe a little over an hour there with him and realized it was one of best hours I'd had in a very long time.
It's a solid basis for a friendship, I decide, and that's good enough for me. Besides, what else would it be? As much as we joke about it, Reed definitely has a type, and I'm not it. And let's be real, he's not my type either. I usually go for the intellectual type, although that's not to say Reed is dumb. I found him to be very smart, but I'm not sure he'll ever be the kind to discuss whether or not what we perceive is reality or just a construct of our minds.
"You ready to go?" Reed asks, and I start blinking rapidly to focus in on him.
"Huh?"
"We got places to go," he says nonchalantly. "I see you're already dressed and ready, so let's go."
I shake my head, blink again. "I'm sorry...but did we make plans I forgot about?"
"It's called spontaneity, Doc," he replies with a grin. "It's your day off, so let's go do something spontaneous."
"Like what?" I ask suspiciously.
"Like whatever we want," he replies as if that was the dumbest question in the world. "But I do have one place I need to stop by first. You're not allergic to dogs, are you?"
"No," I say hesitantly, wondering what I'm getting myself into. I cast a glance at my jigsaw puzzle before looking back to Reed.
"Good. That will make it infinitely more enjoyable to you."
--
"Are you ready to go?" Reed asks for maybe the third time in the last hour.
"Not yet," I say as I cuddle with a tiny ball of golden fluffiness. The puppy's tongue starts lashing at my chin and I can't help but laugh because it tickles. "God, I love the smell of puppy breath."
"This wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had," Reed grumbles as he squats down before me, sitting his big body next to mine against the wall.
The crazy, wonderful man brought me to a puppy adoptathon sponsored by the local SPCA. He's the celebrity who's supposed to draw people in, but he was told he only needed to stay for an hour. I've been having too much fun with the puppies, so we've been here a little over two hours.
"Sorry," I say with a laugh as I rub the soft fur of the chubby little dog in my lap. "But we never had pets growing up, and I was always too busy in college and med school. I'm getting a long overdue fix."
Reed chuckles and leans his head back against the wall. Almost all of the puppies have been adopted, including the one in my lap. I'm just cuddling with him--or maybe a her--while her new owner fills out the paperwork.
"We always had a dog growing up," Reed tells me, and I can hear the fondness in his voice. "Usually some type of mutt my mom would bring home from a shelter."
"You miss having one?" I ask him.
"Yeah," he says wistfully. "But there's just no way I could care for one during the regular season."
"I couldn't do it either. Not when I'm away for more than twelve hours at a time."
"Look at us," he quips as his head rolls on the wall to face me. "Both unlucky in dog love."
I give him a sage nod, and in a serious voice, I suggest, "You should totally do more of these adoptathons so we can come and get our puppy fixes."
"Deal, banana peel," he says, then pushes up from the floor. "But seriously, we need to go. We have more stuff to do."
"What stuff?" I ask, not budging an inch. I want to hold on to wriggling puppy goodness for as long as I can.
"We'll grab some lunch," he says as he pulls his keys out of the front pocket of his shorts. They're khaki, well-worn and frayed at the edges. He paired them with a T-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. With his messy blond hair and several days' worth of facial hair growth, he looks like he's a professional beach bum and not a hockey player. "Then we're going skydiving."
"You're high as hell," I blurt out as I level a stony look at him. "I'm not going skydiving."
"Bungee jumping?" he asks.
"Nope."
"Drag racing?"
"Nope."
"You're no fun, Doc," he says with a laugh, then holds his hands out to me. "Cough up the puppy, because I really am starving."
"But we're not doing anything death defying, right?"
Reed gives an exaggerated sigh and eye roll. He makes a grabby hand motion for the dog but says, "I promise. Nothing death defying."
--
"We're going to have to take a cab home," I tell Reed in all seriousness just before I polish off what might be my fifth beer, but I can't remember. While I did my fair share of partying in school, it's been awhile since I tied one on.
"You really haven't been out much lately, have you?" Reed asks as he lounges in the booth seat opposite me with his back against the wall and one leg stretched out over the seat. We just finished a really long lunch where he ordered each of us a beer. It tasted good, and when the waitress asked if we wanted another, we both said yes.
Five beers later and I'm toasted.
"What's wrong with taking a cab home?" I return a question to him with a disapproving look. "I'm sure it's still a popular concept today that drinking and driving's not cool. You're a public figure. You can't afford to get a DWI--"
"Relax there, Ranger Josie," Reed says with a laugh as he holds a hand up. "I was only talking about the fact that cabs are passe. Everyone does Uber now."
"Oh. Well, yes...I've heard of Uber, but never have taken one. Aren't they dangerous?"
"I can promise you no one is going to hurt you while I'm around," he says gallantly. "Besides, the drivers are well vetted and it's as safe as a cab. Cheaper too."