My best friend and agent knew exactly what I wanted to hear.
Mouse barked and nudged my hand bringing me back to this damn rocky cove in New York. “Why aren’t you with Phoebe?”
His stupid tongue lolled out of his mouth as his nails tapped on the wood of the porch as he practically vibrated with the need to go for a run. The snow and ice had melted leaving only a few mounds along the stairs and framing the driveway. I headed down the stairs, Mouse following with excited barks.
No matter how much I ignored him, he looked for me every morning.
Phoebe had been quiet and distant. I spotted the lights on in her studio and her truck was gone at odd hours. I found myself looking through my window for her all too often. My system kicking into overdrive when I heard her calling for Mouse. The dog was always on one of his walkabouts in the evening, but he always came ripping out of the forest at her call, happily tripping over his own feet to get to her.
The morning seemed to be my turn. I walked the beach each morning, Mouse usually in tow. I’d found a cove about a mile away from Phoebe’s place. The other side of my cottage was still walled off with ice and snow. As the temperatures slowly rose, huge chunks of ice crashed against the rocks at the base of my house.
The sounds added to my sex dreams about Phoebe. Either I was sweaty and a second from getting off with her, or I was losing her to the lake. Didn’t take a genius to figure out I was a damn head case and ruined a good thing before it even began.
It was for the best, I just had to remember that.
For now, the walks on the beach were the only thing saving my sanity.
I climbed the trail at the edge of the cove and sat on one of the sunbaked rocks. Mouse explored the shrubs, marking his way around the area. I pulled my pen out of its loop and scribbled a few descriptions of the lake. The lake took on a green tone thanks to the wreath of white pines, sugar maples, andeastern hemlocks with their massive statures.
I made some crude sketches. Analog felt far safer than even using my phone to take photos of the area. I got up and stretched my back, called for Mouse, and made my way farther up the trail. The sun had melted most of the ice and snow from the storm so I chanced the climb to get a better look at the center of the lake.
It wasn’t quite as incredible as the photos of Clear Lake from central New York, but Providence Lake sure as hell showed out.I was hoping to see the car Phoebe mentioned, but the chunks of ice were obstructing the view. I tried to visualize it.
My imagination had always been my super power for as long as I could remember.
Until this shitstorm.
Annoyed, I worked my way back down the path to the beach. Mouse crashed through the bush behind me making me jump. He bounded over to me with a stick in his mouth. He dropped it at my feet.
“I’m not in the mood to play.”
He nosed it closer to me.
I growled and picked it up, hurling it down the beach. He took off, pure joy in each stride. He tumbled after the stick and wiggled into the wet sand making Mouse angels, the stick still in his mouth.
I stood over him. “You’re an idiot.”
He pawed at the air until I bent down and rubbed his belly. I took the stick out and whipped it farther up the beach toward my cottage. He took off and we continued with that game until Phoebe’s house came into view.
She was on her basket swing, her knees tucked up against her chest. As I got closer, I realized she was painting her toenails. Such an ordinary thing, but instead of stillness, the basket was slowly rotating and she had complete focus.
Focus in chaos.
It was Phoebe in a nutshell. She’d been the same when we’d kissed. Vibrating with need and this inner glow that lured me in closer. I wanted to feed off it. To let it help heal the dark nothing I’d been sitting in for so long.
Which was why I’d stopped.
She didn’t deserve that. Using her for that was unfair to her because I wasn’t sure I’d ever have something to give back.
Mouse’s happy bark changed from the pure joy in the stick to realizing he was close to her house. He took off running up the icy hill, his weird little alien dew claws gripping the dirt and rocks for purchase as he climbed as nimbly as a goat.
Research was my default. I’d looked up everything I needed to know about the damn dog. If he was going to keep intruding on my life, I wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into. That was the only reason.
Phoebe’s face lit up as he scrambled up her porch. She set aside her bottle and opened her arms for him as he climbed into the swing with her. He wasn’t a lap dog for fuck’s sake, but she simply wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his fur.
What was she saying to him?
Shut it down, man. You don’t care.
