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I head to the vet after Callum gives me directions, Luna’s little head in the crook of my neck, her warm(er) body plastered up again my skin, her little paws even getting stuck in the cups of my bra, but that is just a sacrifice I am willing to make in the name of her well-being.
Her whimpering stops after another ten minutes of navigating traffic because that’s when roadwork usually happens—overnight when there aren’t a lot of cars around—and I had to take a detour to get to the vet’s office while Callum sits quietly beside me.
Now, I don’t really mind the quiet. I just don’t like it all that much when there should be a conversation happening. What do they call it—companionable silence?
Yeah, whatever that term is, Callum and I do not have it, and I’m not too sure why.
It could be that he’s brooding over there while I have a cozied-up Luna on my chest, demanding attention and cuddles, and being the sweetest pup in the entire world while Callum could be sulking.
I mean, if someone basically hijacked my rescue dog and my car battery died when she was in my car, well, shit I’d feel pretty awful about it, too, I’m thinking.
So maybe that’s all this is. Maybe he’s going to tell me to beat it once we get to the vet, even though I’m invested now.
I mean, the pup is sitting directly on my chest, and basically left a literal paw-print on my heart, there’s absolutely no way I’m not going to see this through, no way.
Callum can suck it if he doesn’t like where all of this is going. We basically have joint custody now even though I’m not providing any of the shelter or the food. But I’m basically the hero coming to the rescue, so that pretty much amounts to the same thing.
Totally.
Shit, no it doesn’t. But I still want to see where this goes! Luna and I are already best friends!
Hôpital Vétérinaire 24H has those awful bright lights shining inside as I pull into their parking lot, Luna snuggled close to my chest. It’s like she forgets I’m right here and when she realizes that my face is right next to hers, I get a few licks in gratitude even while I’m putting my car in park.
Callum swings out of the car before me and rushes over to my side, his coat flapping since he clearly never zipped it back up, moving over to my side, hunched over against the cold and wind and opening my car door for me.
Luna whines high in her nose, and I get out of the car, cursing when some snow gets into my boots, starting to soak my leggings. Nice.
Callum’s bracing himself against the wind, waiting for me to follow and lock up my car, tugging my purse along and heading toward the front door of the twenty-four-hour vet until we get inside and get blasted with the heat turned on high that hits me right in the face.
Luna loves it as she squirms against my chest. I unzip my coat and bring my hands up to cradle her through my shirt and then pull her out of my collar, pretty sure I’m giving Callum a free show until I can hand Luna over to him, but she squirms pretty hard and looks afraid, so I cradle her back to my chest, Callum looking all broken-hearted.
“Sorry,” I murmur, because honestly, it’s pretty shitty when the animal you adopt doesn’t trust you yet, and Callum looks really upset about it.
“Nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you hold her. I don’t want to freak her out even more,” Callum says, voice steady and calm, like he’s trying to soothe both Luna and me. He opens the inner door for us and waits for both of us to walk right on in, Luna giving me another lick underneath my chin, making me grin despite the seriousness of the situation.
I greet the college-aged guy behind the desk in French and then turn to look at Callum, waiting for him to decide how much he wants to say.
The rundown goes something like this: Callum only adopted Luna a couple of days ago, found her in the dumpster outside of his building, and he doesn’t know how long she was in there for.
He’s taken care of her as much as possible (apparently YouTube was a major player in what he learned), and then he tells the story of bringing her to work with him, but keeping his car running for the night, not having anywhere else to keep her for the long night shift.
He was afraid she’d go into panic mode if he left her behind—which has been the case, and she’s already been through so much that Callum didn’t want her to feel any worse.
The guy behind the reception desk keeps nodding as he takes notes and then tells us to wait in the waiting room that smells like a mixture of dog food and alcohol swabs.
Luna appears to be anxious as we take a seat, squirming in my hold, until I get up and start walking around with her, cooing to her, shaking her up and down as if trying to calm down a baby, like it’ll do the same thing for the canine version. I murmur softly to her, but her distressed sounds make me wonder if she has to go do her business or not.
Callum pulls out a leash from the pocket of his coat, then attaching it to Luna’s collar before he gently takes her from me and takes her outside. I can see through the window that Callum places her gently on a small patch of snow, and Luna’s looking up at him as if he’s committed the gravest of sins against her.
She starts sniffing around the snow and then finally does her business, walking back toward the vet building with a little spring in her gait and rushing toward me once Callum gets the door open, like she’s forgotten I existed at all and is happy to find a new friend.
A capable-looking woman about my age wearing a lab coat comes walking into the waiting room, looking like she’s trying hard to stifle a yawn. “It’s for Luna, yes?”
I nod at her, then stoop down to pick up the pup and cradle her to my chest and follow the vet back into an examination room, looking over my shoulder to find Callum following after me.
Maybe I shouldn’t be here, huh? Luna is Callum’s dog, not mine.
She’s my dog in my heart, and that definitely counts for something!
The vet, Dr. Robert, looks between Callum and me as I gently place Luna on the examination table.
There’s a run-through of questions—is Luna eating well? Does she play well? How much does she sleep during the day? And Callum answers to the best of his ability, glancing to me as if I have something to add, as if I know Luna’s habits when I literally just met her what, like an hour ago?
“You’ve been cold for a little bit, hey, sweetheart?” Dr. Robert asks Luna, the pup squirming in her hands as the doctor runs her fingers over her body, searching out sore spots until she gets to one of Luna’s back legs and Luna gives out a pained yip of alarm that makes me gasp. I glance over to Callum, who looks like he’s been shot, his eyes looking glassy like he’s about to get emotional in front of everyone in the room.
I glance back at Luna, who’s nosing at Callum’s hand and giving him a lick at the back of his knuckles, but squirms away when he moves his hand to pet her properly. There’s something about him that makes her uneasy—maybe he’s too big, too brash.
I’ve only been with the guy one-on-one for a little bit, and I can already tell that he’s a calm person, all smooth-sailing instead of panicking like I am right now.
What’s wrong with Luna? And can we fix her?! How much is that going to cost?
“I’m going to have to take some X-rays,” Dr. Robert says, giving a little treat to Luna, her tail wagging quick and fast. “Do some blood work. Are you all right with that?” she asks, her dark eyes going back and forth between Callum and me, like this is somehow a joint decision, when it isn’t, it’s not my money.
“Yes, please. Help her.”
Dr. Robert nods and then takes Luna in her hands, going to the back door of the exam room and into the bowels of the building. “You can wait here, or in the waiting room, whatever you prefer,” she calls over her shoulder, giving us one last smile, and then one last fleeting look at Luna before disappearing. I hope it’s not the last time I see the pup or I’m gonna be sad forever and ever.
Now it’s just Callum and me, staring at each other, no Luna to make conversation that much more easier.
“You can go,” Callum says, clearing his throat, looking everywhere but at me. Jesus, do I offend him in some way just by breathing in the same air in the same immediate space as him? “You can go, and I’ll take a taxi home or something. I don’t want to ruin the rest of your night, well, morning. You can leave us here and go home.”
I tilt my head at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Well, that’s rude,” I say, watching him glance away from my face. Is my face really that horrendous to look at, honestly?
Remember that time where we slept with all of our makeup up and got glitter everywhere, and there was so much mascara smeared all over and under our eyes that we resembled a corpse? Maybe that’s what’s happening right at this very moment, you just don’t know.
I stifle the urge to check my face, then give in to swipe underneath my eyes and hardly find any mascara that’s been moved around, so I know I’m good to go.
“I’m not being rude, I promise I’m not being rude,” Callum rushes to reassure me, waving his hand in a ‘no’ gesture. He sighs, then leans his head back against the wall that he’s leaning on, closing his eyes against the harsh lighting, and man, I never knew that throats could be as attractive as they are—but maybe that’s just because it’s Callum’s throat.
Definitely. Definitely because it’s Callum’s throat. Uh-huh. Yes, to all of the above.
“Okay, but I’m gonna tell you that basically no one really tells me what to do unless it’s my mom guilt-tripping me into shit, so I can tell you right now that I want to be here. Luna’s half-mine now, like I said, and I was being totally serious.” I watch Callum’s mouth twitch, as if he wants to smile before it’s being chased away by a worried frown.
“There’s nothing that I take more serious than dogs, so deal with it. I’m gonna be here until Dr. Robert comes back and tells us what’s wrong.” I jerk my thumb toward the inner door that the doc disappeared behind.
Callum opens his eyes, leveling me with a stare, his green ones getting lost in the shadows in the hollows of his face. He’s still pretty breathtaking in the way that’s arresting.
He’s not overly beautiful, and he’s not the kind of guy that you would stop and stare at in the middle of the street if he passed you right by.
Callum’s got the kind of face that you wouldn’t look twice at, but if you do, it comes with the entire package—the way he holds himself, the way he perpetually looks like he wants to hurt everyone in his near vicinity for even moving in his personal space. And his voice?
Deep and raspy and pretty perfect, if you asked me.
No one asked you, though, Iz. Nobody did. Not one person.
Callum’s the quiet, brooding guy that might not provide a lot in way of conversation, but honestly, I can talk for the entire room if I want to. And the more I look at his face, the more I look at him, I just can’t stop looking at him.
His face...is interesting. The scar slashing across his left eyebrow holds some sort of funny story that I can’t wait to hear, and he’s got the kind of eyes that look right at home in the springtime when everything blooms after the long, dead winter, the sky an impossible blue.
“Totally serious?” Callum asks, his voice tilting up in a question and that troublesome corner of his mouth quirking up like he really does want to smile at me.
I shrug, refusing to be embarrassed. Why should I be embarrassed? I excel at persuading and dissuading hot guys, slinging them drinks and shit, flirting shamelessly to get bigger tips than the previous night I worked. It’s why I’m dressed the way I am, and the way I have my makeup the way I do.
So why does it feel different with him?
I cough and clear my throat, waiting for him to make the next move, but all he does is raise an eyebrow at me, and I want to start laughing like a maniac to ease this perceived tension right now.
“What are you going to do about Luna?” I ask, kicking my ankles out, leaning all the way back against the wall and letting myself rest up against it. It’s that time of the night where I’m exhausted, but my third wind has kicked in, and I don’t really feel like I’m inside of my body.
Callum shrugs and runs a hand through his short hair, glancing down at his feet like his shoes might help him make his final decision whether to talk to me or not. He sighs again, leaning back upright to look at me, and I swear to God, it’s like the first time in a long time that I feel seen—as a woman—not somebody’s bartender that needs to jump through hoops and perform a bunch of tricks to get some money.
“I don’t know yet. Shit, I knew getting a dog would be expensive, but I was hoping to at least have it happen in her old age, not now as a puppy. I basically found her and nursed her, and she still doesn’t trust me enough to come close for me so I can properly train her. I don’t know what happened to her before I found her, but I’d like to find the guy who hurt Luna and shove his face in, turn him inside out.”
I mash my lips together, trying not to find it cute that Callum wants to avenge his dog on some odd stranger.
“She’s just so small and little, you know? And she has these big green eyes, and she looked so helpless, what was I supposed to do? Ignore her? No way. You’ve seen her, she has a way of worming her way into your heart.”
I smile at him. “I know. She basically shoved herself right in there,” I say, patting a hand over my chest. I clench my jaw tight against a yawn, wanting to be here, wanting to stay here, all because it feels right somehow, feels like I’m supposed to be here.
If I were to talk to my cousin Vick, she’d say it’s something about timing, like her fiancé, Michael, would say, that everything is supposed to happen for a reason that all sounds like a bunch of shit to me.
Honestly, I’m comfortable with Callum here; there’s no unease or worry curdling in my belly when I look at him. And honestly, that’s saying something since I’ve been hit on by the scummiest of scum that the island of Montreal has to offer.
I feel like I know a thing or two, and my internal radar for assholes has been fine-tuned over the years and years I’ve been working as a bartender at L’Arsenale.
Callum isn’t setting off any kind of alarms, and he’s all the way over there, keeping to himself, not trying to get closer to me, and he’s not saying anything or leering at all. He’s acting like I’m any other person, even though I have tits and a uterus.
It’s refreshing and a little disconcerting to be this close to him. I don’t really know how to turn off my flirting, don’t really know how to talk to a guy when there really isn’t anything I want from them—not tips, or attention (to get tips at work), or the kind of attention when I want to keep things casual.
Callum... Callum could be boyfriend material, and I don’t know how to feel about that.
“So you really want to stay here and hang out with me?” Callum asks quietly, glancing at me like he’s waiting for me to say no.
Something in my heart bursts at the sight of him looking at me like that, and I just shake my head. “I do want to stay here. I need to know if she’s going to be okay.”
“How are you gonna do it, Izzy? How are you keeping school and work straight?” Callum asks, rubbing a hand over his shorn head again. “I don’t even know how I’m going to do it. Hell, it feels like Luna came at the wrong time in my life for me to be the one to take care of her. Not that I don’t want to, I’m just spread really thin already,” he sighs. “Wait, you don’t want to hear any of this,” he says, verbally backpedaling, and I find myself taking a step forward, trying to reassure him somehow.
“I don’t mind, actually. I don’t mind at all. S’not like I have any plans other than to go home and sleep. I have that case to work on, but tomorrow’s my day off. You?”
Callum nods. “Yeah, same. The Daytona case for O.M.? I haven’t even started that.”
“Oh, well, if you want, we could maybe go through it together? If you wanted. Then again, who knows how we’re gonna feel when the sun comes up...” I laugh weakly, and Callum just smiles at me, making my heart stop in the middle of my chest.
Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do if he smiles at me with teeth and everything, and really means it.
I won’t survive. I know I won’t survive.
“We could. We could meet at the coffee shop near school? I’ll buy you coffee and lunch for helping me out tonight.” Callum nods at me and keeps nodding until he seems to realize what he’s doing and glances away from me.
In physicality, Callum’s big and brawny enough to be a bouncer, obviously, but he also looks like he could crush me to a pulp with little to no effort, and yet I’m the one that makes him flustered, little ol’ me.
It’s pretty cute, really cute.
“Sure, that sounds like fun,” I say, turning as the inner door is opened and Dr. Robert comes back to us, holding Luna in her hands. The pup squirms and practically jumps onto the table, snuffling, her entire body shaking with the way her tail’s wagging so very hard, and both Callum and I move to the table to give her gentle pets. I still feel bad that Luna moves closer to my body than Callum’s but still allowing him to pet her, and she even licks him a couple of times that I swear makes him smile like he’s won all the accolades in the world.
“I’ll get back to you within the next half hour, and I’ll let you know what to do next,” Dr. Robert says. “You can wait in the waiting room, there’s some toys there, and some treats and fresh water if she gets hungry or wants to play. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
I scoop up Luna and head out of the examination room, finding the little play spot in the waiting room that is behind a hidden wall where Luna can play and have some food. She looks happy, tail wagging so fast it’s nothing but a blur, even if the cotton ball that’s taped to her leg looks glaring and reminds me that she could be sick.
Who would leave a puppy in the dumpster? What kind of fucking asshole would do a thing like that?
I think I might join Callum on his crusade to destroy the person that threw Luna away like a piece of garbage.
We play with Luna for the next little while, taking turns passing a yawn between us, smiling at each other before Luna finally lies down between us and takes a little break from playing with the toys and heaving a deep sigh, like she’s had a very long day.
Dr. Robert comes out of the hall where the rest of the staff is, something like hurt written all over her face.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep Luna overnight for observation.”
I glance over to Callum to see how he’s going to take the news, and he looks like he’s been fatally wounded, and I don’t know what to do to make him feel better.
Because I do, I do want to make him feel better.
Pretty sure that means you’re invested in him too, Iz.
Shit.
