with discs since she was a puppy.”
“It shows.”
“Thanks,” she smiles at me again, and I can’t help noticing how pretty, straight, and white her teeth are against her creamy tan complexion. “I taught Jude to work with her, too, so if I was busy after work, she still got her training.”
“What do you do for work?” I ask them.
“I’m a yoga teacher,” Emmy says, “and I work at Starbucks.”
“Caffeine and chill,” Aaron says.
She nods. “It’s a good mix. My heart is with wellness and yoga, but Starbucks has consistent hours and benefits, so.” She shrugs.
As Aaron tells me about his engineering job, my gaze slides briefly to Stevie and Jude. She’s leaning close to him, listening to him talk about the last time the club competed. I keep my eyes on her for a second, hoping hers will meet mine.
They don’t.
“Bean is Stevie’s dog, right?” Emmy asks. A second passes before I realize she’s talking to me.
I turn away from Stevie and Jude. “That’s right. She got her as a puppy, but because we live together, we sort of share her.”
“That’s cool of you to come out and learn the disc thing with her, then,” Aaron says. “My housemate can’t even fill Bear’s water bowl, much less throw a frisbee for him.”
I smile, accepting the compliment, but my eyes sneak back to Stevie. Did she hear that? Because I don’t have to be here, supporting her and Bean.
The problem is, I don’t want to be anywhere else, either. Wherever Stevie is, is where I want to be.
I only wish she felt the same way.
Chapter Seven
Stevie
“Are you busy tonight?” I yell to Logan through his closed bathroom door. It’s Saturday, early evening, and he’s showering after his run. I can’t see him, obviously, but I hear the water crashing against the shower walls.
“What?” he shouts back. I yell my question again. “No!”
“Want to go to Mom and Lamar’s with me?”
“Dinner?” I think he said something else, but I’m not sure.
“Yes!”
“Okay!”
And that’s how, about an hour later as the sun sets over City Park to the west, we end up walking together to my parents’ home. They live about a fifteen-minute walk away, and if I’m anticipating having a drink, I stroll instead of driving. Instead of Logan driving, that is.
We could bike instead, but Bean’s with us. She jogs a bit ahead, at the end of her leash, looking pretty happy. I’d given her a bath today, and unlike a lot of dogs, she loves being clean and brushed. Of course, I’d fed her plenty of treats out of her disc too. She’s enjoying her disc “training” very much.
Logan’s stomach snarls beside me. I laugh. “Hungry?”
“No, I’m good,” Logan says, then after a pause, he adds, “So, what’s Lamar making tonight?”
He knows my Mom doesn’t cook. Or at least, not since she met Lamar. My stepfather is a foodie and a talented home chef. He’s also a crack Trivial Pursuit player, a savvy investor, and a snappy dresser. But I’d say cooking is his superpower.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.” I hide my grin. I’m keeping the meal a secret until we get there.
“What did you do today?” Logan asks. “Other than giving Bean a spa treatment.”
“I took Jazzy to see the new Disney princess movie, which thank god wasn’t awful, and I hung out with Mom and Lamar for a few hours after that. Oh, and this morning, Bean and I threw the disc around at the park with Jude, Emmy, and Meadow.”
Logan eyes me. “Really? They happened to be there at the same time?”
I snort. “No, of course not. They invited Bean and me to train with them and Meadow.”
“You but not me, huh?”
I glance over. My friend looks . . . hurt? “Did you want to go? You totally could have. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you. You were gone, but I should have texted.”
“No, it’s fine. I was joking.”
He doesn’t sound like he’s joking. Genuinely confused, I peep at him again to try and read his expression. As I do, I step into the cross-street in front of us, and with a swift grab at my arm, Logan pulls me back. I yelp and yank Bean out of the street as the Toyota I didn’t see heading our way goes by.
Logan sighs. “Stevie, I hate to have to say this, but you should really look both ways before crossing the street.”
I agree, when I can finally breathe again. He’s right, and it’s not the only thing I