Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,12

quietly like he’d been waiting for her to come to the dramatic rescue.

“Do you have enough energy to swim back?” She held the dog to her shoulder, skillfully keeping his head above water.

Did he have … “I’m fine! Hey—does he belong to you?”

She blinked at him as if he was not all there. “He’s not with you?”

“No!” They both looked at the dog who Reid swore appeared to be enjoying the attention. “You—you shouldn’t be in here,” Reid bit out, his legs wavering, his teeth starting to chatter. “I have it under control.”

“Sure you do, Hot Jerk.” And then she kicked out her feet and headed back to shore, swimming on her back with the puppy held under one arm, his head above water. Like she rescued animals from freezing lakes every day.

What in all that was fucking fucked was fucking happening here?

Robbed of his chance to be a hero, he followed alongside, keeping an eye out for trouble (and maybe another chance to be a hero). She was a strong swimmer and it seemed best to leave her holding the dog who obviously preferred her rescuing arms to Reid’s. Once at the rocks, she held on to a boulder with one hand while treading water.

“I’ll get out first,” he said, already pulling himself up over the first rock and looking for a foothold that wouldn’t have him slipping and hitting his head on the sharp stones.

“Are you okay?” someone called out. The man in the couple he had overtaken earlier—or at least he thought it was him, except now he had a pack of dogs with him on leashes. “Should we call 911?”

“We’re okay,” he called back. He leaned over and held out his hands for the dog. Coffee Shop Girl looked up, her hair dripping into her silver-disc eyes, like the swim in the lake had invigorated her. “I can take him.”

She held the pup a few inches out of the water and he used every ounce of his training to keep his balance.

“Got him?” Gripping the rock, she held tight while the lake rocked her. But she didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. He was glad he didn’t have to choose between her and the dog.

Society would have expected him to go the way of the human.

“I do. Back in a sec.”

Quickly and carefully, he stepped over the rocks until he reached the grass. He placed the shivering puppy down and got a better look at him. Indeterminate breed, a brown and white streaked mess, plentiful scars, and a history of pain.

He peered up at the couple. The woman had her phone out, but not to call for assistance. She was taking a picture. “Can you watch him for a minute?” Reid growled, annoyed that she was taking this opportunity to snap a stupid picture instead of helping.

The man nodded. Reid turned, ready to yank Coffee Shop Girl out of the water only to run right into her. She had pulled herself out in no time at all, a testament to significant upper body strength.

“Are you okay?” He grasped her shoulders and instinctively rubbed them trying to get warmth into her ice-cold skin, or maybe into his hands.

She nodded, pushing wet strands out of her eyes, and he didn’t imagine that slight angle of her body toward his. “F-fine. How’s our guy?”

Our guy.

Not waiting for a response, she hunkered to a crouch and ran assured hands over the dog’s body. “There, there, buddy, we’ve got you now. No one’s going to hurt you again.” She peered up at Reid through spiky, wet lashes. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“No, I just saw him struggling in the water.”

She held his gaze, bit her lip, and something sparked between them: a recognition of what had occurred and a simpatico that now connected them. Some fucker had thrown the dog into the water, discarded him like trash. No way did the pup make that decision. If he was with someone, where was his owner?

She reached over a few feet and picked up a piece of clothing. As she rolled it out, he realized what she was doing: giving the dog her coat. Reid should have thought of that. He hunkered down and together they moved the dog onto the coat’s fleece lining. She wrapped it around him and started rubbing the dog’s body, gently but vigorously.

“You can quit filming now,” she said without taking her eyes off the dog.

“I’m—I’m not.” The woman lowered the phone, caught Reid’s