Page 12 of The Obvious Check
I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t care what he is, though. He’s mine now and that’s all that matters.”
Dash exhales sharply next to me. “Who’s going to look after him?”
I snort. “Me.” Obviously.
He continues to stare at me, that silent judging face. Shit. Is this why Stanley was so appealing to me? Because he looks at me with the same contempt as my best friend?
“I’ve been lonely in my apartment,” I admit. “Coach already said Stanley can come to practice as long as my performance doesn’t go down.”
“Your performance won’t drop,” Dash says. Then tilts his head toward the rest of the team, and I smile. Erik, Scotty, and Henry are all actively passing pucks to Stanley like he’s their newest teammate. All the while, my dog prances between them, and has already learned the only way to stop is to drop to his belly in what I’m calling a sploot.
“But what about everyone else’s?” Dash finishes.
“They’ll be fine. He’s going to sit in the stands during practice.”
Dash crosses his arms, shaking his head. “And who’s going to make sure he stays there?”
“Really? You’re asking me that?” Plain-faced, I point at all the friends and family who are sitting on the side of the rink. Most notably the manically waving blonde at the boards, who’s desperately trying to get Stanley’s attention.
“Madison is usually here. When she’s not, there are plenty of dog lovers on the team.”
More grumbles from my overthinking goalie. “What about when we’re on the road? Who’s going to look after Stanley then?”
“You seem to be underestimating my sister’s love of dogs. I video called her when I was still at the shelter. Good thing you weren’t with her. You would’ve tried to talk me out of it.”
“Because it’s insane. You’re a college student. You don’t have time for a dog.”
I lift a brow. “Not much else is going on in my life, Dash. Now that I’m off campus and in an apartment of my own. I’m not going to many parties, and the hockey dorm has lost all of its appeal recently.”
That shuts him up. The only reason I’m in self-exile is because of his actions.
“Oh my goodness!” Madison’s squeals interrupt us. She’s still at the boards, looking at Stanley in awe. “So this is Stanley Biscuit?” she asks as though he’s not the only dog in the rink.
“It’s Mr. Biz,” Henry corrects as he skates by and Madison shoves him in the back, only making him fall forward. Henry’s a hockey player, so his reflexes are quick, but he still lets out a small cry in protest since he knows he can’t do anything with her overprotective brother and built-like-a-brick boyfriend around.
“Madison can’t have him in her dorm,” Dash says, still trying to sour my mood.
“No. You’re forgetting I have an extra room she can sleep in.” I leave out that she only agreed so she could see me more. When I first moved into my apartment, she decorated the two bedrooms with a promise of coming back for the rest of the place. I haven’thad her over since. The sad reality of avoiding them together means I’ve been reluctant to invite either of them over.
“Stanley!” Madison calls, and as if he’s already accustomed to his name and knows who his aunt is, he bounds over and scrapes at the boards to try to get to her.
Scotty crouches, picks him up, and hands him over to Madison. Her eyes water as she cradles my dog like a damn baby.
“I think someone needs a nose boop,” she coos, booping his nose before nuzzling into his fur.
Stanley lets out a friendly yelp like he’s already found his favorite human. I knew they’d be best friends.
Dash?
Still brooding, but that isn’t unlike him.
“And what are you going to do when Madison is traveling with us on away games? Hell, what are you going to do when you go pro? You’re never going to be around for him.”
I roll my eyes, wondering how Dash functions on a good day. So many questions, so much reluctance for change, I do wonder how my sister managed to convince him to keep their relationship a secret for as long as they did. I bet it was eating him up inside. Good. He deserved it.
I pat my friend on his shoulder. “Stop worrying so much about the future. Things will figure themselves out. They always do.”
“If you say so…” Dash levels me with a look. I know that look well. It means I’m in for a lecture. Pfft. He’s one to talk.
