Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,20
end of the sofa. He took up a lot of room with his long legs and big chest and no doubt other body parts vying for space on the leather.
“I play hockey for the Chicago Rebels.”
“Mia said.”
“I’m on the road and at practice a lot. Home games are often an all-day affair though I can come back here in the afternoon for a couple of hours and check in on him.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’d make a good owner at all.”
There it was, the beast scowl, but with something else mixed in: she had wounded him.
“I know he needs a lot of care,” he said after a protracted beat. “But I’m determined to look after him. I don’t think he’d have much luck at a shelter.”
“Oh, I don’t know. If you spin the story of how you saved him, do something on Insta or with your team’s PR, you’re bound to find a good home for him. You see stories like that all the time.”
What was she playing at? It was in her interest to have him need her, not to find a way to divest him of this puppy. But she also wanted the dog to have a good life. He hadn’t had one up until now. As much as she needed a roof over her head, she wouldn’t play along with any puppy-for-a-day scheme.
Reid shifted, placed his hands together and his elbows on his knees. He seemed to be thinking about what she said, actually giving it careful consideration. It made her heart thrum. Having someone listen to you with such intensity was potent stuff.
“I would like to try to care for him first. If it doesn’t work, I’ll find a solution but I have to give this a shot.”
He sounded so serious, like this was his sole purpose in life. His gravity seeped into her and laid claim to her heart.
She felt a cold nose at her hand. Bucky must have sensed they were talking about him and had left the shelter of his cardboard harbor to be part of the conversation.
“Hey, there, it’s great to meet you again.” She gave him a tentative pat. He stayed put. She rubbed him a little more forcefully. He angled into her touch.
She turned back to Reid, who was watching her and Bucky carefully. Almost like his Terminator brain was recording the interaction.
Three strokes. Dog likes. Store in memory hard drive.
“So are you going to tell me what happened that got me fired but still wasn’t your fault?”
“There was another guy.”
“Did he have one arm, Dr. Kimble?”
He raised that arrogant eyebrow. “I was waiting for you to finish your rant when another customer came in after me. He was annoyed to have to wait but he recognized me and wouldn’t shut up. Then he got annoyed about you again and said he would call the corporate office.”
“And how is this your fault?”
“I told him he should do it.”
“I see.”
He gestured with his hand. “Purely to get him out of my face.”
“Well, I can understand how your need to escape some inconvenient fan worship might be more important than my employment.”
He scowled again. “I may have encouraged him but he made the call.”
“Incitement to do violence to my job prospects. Got it.”
Head shake. “I’m making up for it now by offering you a job looking after Bucky. I would need you to stay over here while I’m out of town and stop in to care for him during practices and home games. It would be a full-time gig.”
“Until you get tired of him.” She was still hung up on the loss of a job she didn’t even like though the answer to all her problems was being offered up on a platter.
“I won’t get tired of him.” Said with a growl and a clear sense of conviction. “I want to keep him and I’ll do whatever it takes. True, I won’t be around as much as I’d like but when I am he will be left in no doubt that I care for and love him dearly.”
Just when she thought this guy had hit the ocean floor of her disapproval, he said something to haul himself above sea level. Looking around, she took in the large apartment filled with furniture but lacking in personality. Of course it was his apartment, so it shouldn’t surprise her.
“Did you just move here?”
“A couple of months ago.”
“From where?”
“Boston, but I’m originally from Canada. A small town in Quebec.”