Puppy Love (15 page)

“Thanks.” I smiled at him. He smiled back. There was a moment of silence, and we both sipped our drinks at the same time.

“So,” Adam said after another moment. “Are you having fun in class so far?”

“Definitely! It's great.” Realizing I might have sounded a little too enthusiastic, I added, “We're all having fun. Um, I mean I know Rachel and Jamal are too—Rachel even took your class a second time, after all.”

He was nodding. “That vizsla of hers is a handful. I hope she sticks it out with her, though. They'd probably do well in agility, too—it would be a good outlet for all that energy.”

“Yeah.”

Another moment of silence. It was so quiet I could hear soft snuffling from under the table. Muckle had fallen asleep.

I scanned my mind for something to talk about. Maybe I should ask him about himself. Everyone liked talking about themselves, right?

Besides, I really did want to know more about Adam. I wanted to know everything about him. His favorite color, his taste in music, his hopes and fears and dreams. But I figured I'd start with the easy stuff.

“Speaking of agility,” I said, breaking the silence, “how'd you first get into it?”

He brightened. “Oh, I've been competing since I was a young lad,” he said. “See, my family had this whip-smart collie that was always getting into mischief. When she got bored and ate a hole in the wall one day, my parents threatened to get rid of her.”

I grimaced. “Sounds kind of like me and Muckle.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I was determined to keep her, so I started looking for ways to keep her occupied. A lad at the vet's office told me about an agility class he knew of, and that was all she wrote.” He smiled, his blue eyes far away and nostalgic. “That dog was a natural—she ended up being my first champion. First of many.”

Coming from anyone else, that might have sounded like bragging. But he sounded sweet and humble—as if he was giving all the credit to the dogs instead of himself.

He went on to share a few more highlights of the doggy adventures of his youth. After that, we talked about his plans for the future.

“After graduation, I want to open up my own dog-training business full-time,” he said. “Make it my life's work, you know?”

“Awesome. You'll be great at that,” I told him.

“Hope so. My parents, they'd like to see me go to college.” He swished his ice cubes around in his drink. “But I'd rather take a few
business classes part-time while I get started, you know? Why put off what I want to do just because they don't think it's the proper way?”

I nodded sympathetically. “My parents are the same. They never listen to what I think about anything, pretty much. My sister, on the other hand . . .”

“Like how they didn't want you to get a dog.” He smiled ruefully. “I suppose they're all the same. In any case, I'm not going to give up my plans for anyone, even them.”

“Good for you.” I smiled. “So what else do you like to do besides the dog thing? Are you into music or movies or anything?”

“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. “I'll catch a film now and then when I have time.”

“What's your favorite genre?” I asked. “Mystery, action, horror . . . ?”

He took another sip of soda. “I don't really mind. Whichever.” Just then Muckle's tags jingled under the table. Adam peered down and smiled. “Look, he's dreaming. I love when they do that—act like they're running when they're sound asleep.”

Glancing down, I saw Muckle's legs jerking around. His eyes were shut tight.

“Yeah, it's pretty cute,” I agreed. “He does that a lot. My dad says he's too hyper even when he's asleep.”

Adam laughed. “That reminds me of this training client I had once who swore his dog had a sleep disorder. . . .”

With that, he was off and running again, describing yet another dog from his past. It was interesting, though I was starting
to wonder if he ever talked about anything but dogs. For instance, he hadn't asked me much about myself. Well, except for the dog-related parts, of course.

But was that so bad? I'd wanted someone with a passion, after all. And Adam definitely had that.

Besides, this was just one more thing that made him different. Most guys weren't that good at talking about anything except themselves. At least that was how it had always seemed to me, based on every guy I'd ever met. Especially Robert. He'd probably never stop talking about himself if I didn't smack him upside the head now and then.

As he finished his story about the sleep-deprived dog, Adam gulped down the rest of his soda, then checked his watch. “Listen, I've really got to go now,” he said, standing. “But it's been great hanging out with you, Lauren. I wish I could stay longer.”

“Yeah.” I jumped to my feet. “Me too.”

Muckle woke up and came out to see what was going on. His tail wagged, and he barked at Adam.

“See you in class, little fella.” Adam gave him a pat. “Try not to pee on your mum's shoes before then, eh?”

I laughed. “I'll walk you out.”

We headed for the front door with Muckle tagging along. When we got there, Adam stopped and turned to face me.

“Well . . . ” he said, then paused.

I held my breath. He was gazing at me with a meaningful look on his face. What was he thinking? Did he want to ask me
out? Or maybe . . . could he be thinking about kissing me?

My heart pounded at the thought. I hoped the Listerine I'd swished around my mouth earlier was still holding. Was I supposed to close my eyes when he leaned in, or wait until his lips actually touched mine? This would be my first kiss, and I wanted to make sure I did it right. Especially since it was happening with the man of my dreams . . .

Adam cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. Aw! Was he feeling as nervous about this as I was? It was a strange thought, but a sweet one. I knew what Robert would say:
Go for it! Don't wait for him to kiss you—just kiss him yourself!

But I wouldn't dare. Would I?

“So,” Adam said, interrupting my frantic interior monologue. “Um, it'll be twenty-five dollars for today's session.”

I stared at his lips, my body swaying toward his a little more as if pulled by a magnetic force. Then I blinked. Wait, what?

“Um . . .” My face grew hot as I took in what he'd just said.

He wasn't staring at me because he was thinking about kissing me. He was wondering if I was going to pay him for the training!

This was a disaster. Well, a near disaster. At least I hadn't actually gone ahead and tried to kiss him. That would have been a disaster. On an epic scale. As in, Vesuvius-level epic. What would he have thought? Talk about humiliating!

“Okay, yeah, sorry,” I said quickly. “Er, just let me grab some cash. Be right back.”

I rushed off, hoping he hadn't noticed that my face was now
lobster red. How could I have been so stupid? This hadn't been a date to him at all. It had been a job! Just another dog-training client with a puppy that liked to piddle on the rug.

Then I realized I had another problem. I was broke. I'd spent the last of my cash at PetzBiz yesterday, buying more dog treats. How was I going to pay Adam? I couldn't exactly go back out there and tell him I'd thought today's training would be free, what with my massive crush on him and all that I'd somehow, stupidly, thought might be mutual. . . .

I thought about calling Robert, begging him to rush over with some money. But no, that would take too long. Besides, I'd just remembered my mom's petty cash drawer in the kitchen. She always kept a few bills there in case of emergency. Blowing out a sigh of relief, I yanked the drawer open and counted out what I needed. I'd just have to borrow it from Robert and replace it before Mom noticed.

Hurrying back out to the hall, I handed over the money. “Well, thanks for coming,” I said in what I hoped was a businesslike tone.

“Anytime.” He pocketed the cash. If he noticed I was acting weird, he didn't let on. “Thanks, Lauren. See you in class on Tuesday, eh?”

“See you then!” I maintained my perky smile until the front door shut behind him. Then I collapsed against it and pulled my phone out of my pocket to call Robert.

Chapter
Fourteen

R
obert was wearing a tweedy
wool cardigan with leather elbow patches when he arrived to pick me up on Tuesday morning. So he was in a college-professor kind of mood today, apparently.

“Hurry up,” he said as I climbed into the Volvo. “I still need to finish my French vocab sheet before first period.”

“Where'd you disappear to yesterday after you dropped me off?” I clicked on my seat belt as he backed out of the driveway. “I texted you after Muckle's walk to see if you wanted to hang out, but you never texted back.”

“Sorry. I was running an errand. Guess I missed the text.” He reached over and switched off the CD player, which had been playing one of my favorite Skerrabra songs.

“Hey, I was listening to that,” I protested.

“You know, Corc's accent is starting to get on my nerves a little,” he said. “In fact, I'm starting to think the entire British Isles are way overrated.”

I stared at him, perplexed. It was too early in the morning for such an abrupt change of subject.

“Huh?” I said. “Since when?”

He shrugged. “Since right now. I'm thinking it's time to try something new. Get over the angsty Anglo thing. Maybe this afternoon we should disguise ourselves as salsa dancers or something—you know, try to pick up some hot Latino guys.”

I blinked, still not quite following his train of thought. “I can't do anything this afternoon,” I reminded him. “Puppy class, remember?” My stomach flip-flopped as I said it.

“Oh, that.” Robert shot me a sidelong look. “Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“About what? About how puppies are too much trouble?” I rolled my eyes. “I've heard it before.”

“No, not that. It's about Adam.” He clutched the steering wheel tighter as he turned onto Main Street. “I know I said Adam was hot before, but I'm kind of over him now. I think you're too good for a guy like that.”

I stared at him. “Is this about Sunday? Because I told you, I'm sure that's all my fault. Like you said, I should've just asked him out instead of hiding behind the whole training thing.”

“It wasn't your fault,” he insisted. “Any other guy would've picked up what you were laying down. Adam's just clueless, and
that's a bad sign. I mean, if he couldn't see the opportunity he had with you, he's too stupid to be with you. Possibly too stupid to live.” He frowned. “It sort of makes me think he's actually a huge jerk underneath that hunky exterior, you know?”

Okay, now he was starting to annoy me. Yes, we'd spent at least a billion hours dissecting what I'd done wrong on Sunday afternoon. And yes, Robert had been supportive and sympathetic as usual. But as of when we'd last discussed it the previous day at lunch, he'd still been all about the try, try again thing. So where had this bad attitude about Adam come from all of a sudden?

“Are you kidding me with this?” I demanded.

“I'm dead serious.” He swung the car into an empty spot near the flagpole. “You snooze you lose, buddy. Sayonara.
Hasta la vista.
All that jazz.”

I frowned. “That's not how it works. He's just really focused on dogs.” I hesitated. “Right?”

Just then a beefy guy in a letterman jacket knocked on the window, wanting to talk to Robert about the French homework. So that was the end of the conversation.

I was glad about that. Whatever had suddenly gotten into Robert, I hoped it went away just as suddenly. Because I would need his help to figure out what to do about Adam. Puppy class was that afternoon, and I wasn't sure I was ready to face him again.

By the time the final bell rang at the end of the day, I'd worked myself up into a tizzy of nerves. “Oh, man,” I moaned as Robert and I headed out to the parking lot. “I'm not sure I'm ready for
this. Maybe I should skip class today.”

“Maybe you should,” Robert said immediately. “We could go shopping instead. Maybe catch a movie. You've been so tense lately—you could use a little fun, right?”

I sighed. So much for counting on him to help psych me up to face Adam. After that morning's conversation, I probably shouldn't have been surprised.

“No, forget it,” I said, yanking open the car door. “I can't let Muckle down. Not when he's finally starting to learn some stuff.”

Robert climbed into the driver's seat and glanced over at me. “But are you sure he's learning enough?” he countered. “I mean, face it—you're probably a little distracted by the teacher.”

“More than a little,” I agreed with a grimace.