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Even when it was busy and lots of people were around, there were plenty of other open spaces. Why park next to me?
God, I was getting paranoid.
I needed to relax.
I was just worked up about working late and alone.
Still, the guy was just sitting in his car next to me. Engine running, like mine was. But not making any move to back out.
It felt weird.
It felt weirder still when the second I backed out of my spot, he did as well.
“Okay. Alright. It’s not that weird,” I told myself aloud as I blinked to turn onto the highway.
But then I pulled out.
So did he.
I moved over to the fast lane.
So did he.
“Okay. Kind of weird,” I said, panic starting to rise as I once again switched lanes.
And, not five seconds later, he did as well.
I was moving on autopilot as I stabbed my finger into the phone screen, finding Wells’s number, and calling it as my heartbeat hammered when I turned off of the highway at the wrong intersection.
And so did the car behind me.
The sound of his voice managed to calm me almost instantly. And when he offered to let me come to his place, most of the anxiety fell away, making me realize just how much of it I felt about being alone in my own house. Even with as good a guard dog as Tilly there with me.
I felt a little silly when, finally, the guy turned off.
But not silly enough to tell Wells that, knowing he was at my house waiting for me. When he was offering to let me come to his house.
Even, if I wasn’t completely misunderstanding him, to stay the night?
I wasn’t sure on that, though, so I just grabbed an oversized purse, so it didn’t look presumptuous, and slipped a change of clothes in there, rolled up real tightly, along with my toothbrush, toothpaste, and a brush. I also tossed in a storage bag of Tilly’s food, a few treats, and her favorite two toys.
With that, I made my way back out.
To find him talking to Tilly like she was going to talk back.
And, yeah, I was pretty sure I fell a little bit in love with him right then and there.
I truly always believed that you could judge a person, especially a man, by how they treat animals. If a man not only took care of them, but was willing to act silly by talking to them or baby-talking them, then you knew he was a keeper.
“I was just telling her about Boss,” Wells said when he saw me, looking a little sheepish at being caught.
“What did she say?” I asked, smiling as I put my bag in my front seat.
“She’s withholding her judgment,” he told me, handing me her leash when I reached out for it.
“She’s been good with other dogs. We’ve gone to the park twice now, and she kind of ignores most of them. And if one of them comes up to her, she does the sniffing thing, but doesn’t seem overly interested.”
“They’ll be fine,” Wells assured me. “You following me?” he asked.
