I shook my head, muttering under my breath, “Idiot,” as I reached for the car handle. Before I could even move, Asher was already outside my car door, closing it.
“What the hell, Asher!” I shouted as the door clicked shut. He opened it himself with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Swinging my legs onto the ground, I shoved his shoulders while hoisting myself upright.
“Oh, little siren, you never should be opening a car door on your own,” he said, his voice low and smooth, almost a purr.
I couldn’t resist. Arguing was always in my nature, a reflexive defence. “Yeah, well, I’m not incapable. I can open my own fucking door.”
“No one said you were incapable, Lennon. But a portion of your life has been difficult, taxing, and fucking exhausting. You’ve had to do it all yourself. You can allow yourself to be spoiled with me, okay? I know you don’t believe it, but you deserve to just enjoy the little acts of service I’d love nothing more than to offer you.”
I rolled my eyes and scoffed at him.
“Why do you gotta be so mean?” He chuckled.
“Growing up, I had to be fucking mean. It was survival, a means to an end, really,” I admitted, then softly added, “I don’t want to be mean—it’s just all I know…if that makes any sense.”
Embarrassed at offering a glimpse of myself, I shook my head and walked ahead, needing the space.
Asher picked up the pace, leaning close so his voice brushed against my ear. “I kind of like it when you’re mean. Also, first one to the door gets the final say on who we bring home!”
Before I could register what he was doing, he sprinted toward the front entry of the humane society. Realizing what he was doing, I bolted after him like a bat out of hell.Not today, Asher. Not today.
It wasn’t far, but I crossed the threshold mere inches ahead of him. For an athletic guy, he was panting as though it had taken everything in him to run that fast.
“You don’t have to flatter me and let me win.” I laughed, breathless.
Tossing his hands up in defeat, he admitted, “You got me, fair and square.”
Once inside, we approached the receptionist and explained we were looking to adopt a dog. She clicked eagerly at her computer, signing us in so we could go see the dogs.
Following her as she led us to the back room, we entered a space filled with rows of large kennels, each housing a dog. Slowly walking down the hallway, I surveyed them all, and a wave of emotion washed over me. I wondered if this was how parents felt when choosing a child to adopt. Even worse, I wondered why some children—or in this case, dogs—were passed over for others.
Was it how they looked? Their hair colour, height, build? The way they smiled—or didn’t? Did they not like my clothing choices?
Pulling me out of my head, a soft voice caught my attention. “Hey, Lennon, where did you go just now?”
“Nowhere,” I said immediately, my attention shifting back to the dogs. They stood at the edges of their cages, eager for attention, tails wagging, searching for someone to take them out of their confinement. They are all so cute, so desperate for a home. Someone to get them the hell out of here.
Asher stepped closer, pulling me out of my thoughts again. “I would buy you any dog you want, Lennon. We don’t have to just pick from what is here.”
Without looking at him, I said softly, “These dogs need someone to take care of them and give them a good home, too.”
He paused thoughtfully, then nodded without a word. He didn’t know the full weight behind my statement, but he sensed that it was something that resonated with me on some level. I realized then that Asher was attuned to the people around him, cautious, always thinking ahead about how others felt.
He offered me his hand, and I hesitated. It was daylight. There was no imminent risk or adrenaline. And someone was at the end of the hallway. I gulped, unsure why I felt apprehensive.
I rubbed my fingers into my palm, telling myself to just fucking do it. Why make it complicated? To show him my appreciation for how thoughtful and kind he was, I offered him my hand. He interlaced his fingers with mine, and if I hadn’t already been lost in my own head, I might have thought our fingers were made to fit together.
Asher didn’t make a fuss. He simply took my hand, letting me focus on each dog waiting for attention as we knelt to pet their little heads. By the time we had passed eight or nine kennels, I stopped at the next one.
At first glance, it seemed empty, but then a tiny tail peeked from the corner. If it hadn’t twitched ever so slightly, I might never have noticed it. I paused my slow meander with Asher, turning my full attention to the back of the kennel. There, huddled in shadows, was a fluffy dog with dark, blue-grey fur and piercing, light-green eyes—so pale they almost blended with the whites.
Kneeling in front of the kennel, I peeked in with the kindest eyes I could muster. “Hey little guy, whatcha doing back there?” I whispered gently.
Asher knelt beside me, watching with quiet patience. And in that very moment, I was grateful for him.
“Want some pets? Want to come say hi?” I murmured to the fearful dog. The receptionist was making her rounds, approaching behind us.
“Oh, that’s Nova. She’s been here quite some time, but she’s the sweetest thing once she warms up to you,” the staff member explained.
