Charming as Puck(29)

“I, erm, heard that was the last straw with the coaches,” I offer. “There shouldn’t be any more animal pranks.”

With the press release they put out yesterday about the players volunteering once a week for the next four weeks at various pet shelters around the city, I’m almost positive this really is the end.

“I’ll take her to work with me and find her a forever home by the end of the week,” I promise Officer Badcock.

And that’s how I end up with Sugarbear riding along in my Mazda, her head hanging out my back window, on my way back to work for the second time that morning.

Mom just shakes her head while I tie the cow puppy to the Employees only parking sign at the back of the lot near the only patch of grass we have.

My phone dings, and I glance down to see another text from Nick.

I’m sorry.

I ignore it—and the lump in my throat and the hot sting in my eyes—and shove my phone into my back pocket.

Nick never says he’s sorry. Never.

“No chance of patching things up?” Mom asks while she scratches Sugarbear behind the ears.

“I just don’t see us with a real future.”

Not one where we both get what we want.

My phone dings again, and this time, I ignore it.

I’m sorry too.

I’m sorry that I can’t see anything clearly when he’s around. I’m sorry that I forget my own name when he kisses me. And mostly, I’m sorry that I ever thought he could feel the same way about me.





Seventeen





Kami



Because Felicity is freaking magic, she calls just before lunch with good news. She definitely has a place Sugarbear can stay for a week or two. After work, I load up my temporary puppy in the back of my car again—using Nick’s Cherokee is out of the question so long as I’m trying to get over him—and head over to the Belmont district.

Felicity’s gaping as I pull into the long drive of her parents’ house with Sugarbear hanging her head out my back window.

“That cow really does look like a dog,” she says, as if she doesn’t have a pet monkey at her place. Yep, a real pet monkey. Long story.

“You saw her with my real dogs last night. Wouldn’t surprise me if they taught her to play catch too,” I tell her.

She cracks up, and the tightness in my chest loosens. “The neighbors will love that.”

As for me, I’ll love that the neighbors are all at least a quarter mile away, and that Mr. and Mrs. Murphy have enough land that they can legitimately raise a cow here.

She steps closer and rubs Sugarbear’s cheeks. “You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you?”

“Felicity! Honey, don’t touch the cow. Not in your condition. You don’t know what kind of germs it has.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Murphy,” I call to her mother, who’s coming out the etched glass front door in a pink tracksuit. Probably on her way to or from the gym. “So long as she washes her hands good, she’ll be okay.”

“Go on, you heard her. Go wash your hands.” Mrs. Murphy marches down the steps. “How old is this cow again? And how long does it need to be here? Felicity. Go wash your hands.”

“She’s carrying Ares Berger’s baby,” she mutters to herself in one of her puppet voices. “The cow germs don’t stand a chance.”

But she dutifully heads for the house.

Probably because we both know her mom won’t stop until she’s sure the baby isn’t in any danger, even if the baby’s father’s genes are most likely as indestructible as he is.

Mrs. Murphy stops in front of the car and shakes her head. “A cow. What will they think of next?” She’s smiling, though. I know that smile. It’s the same smile Nick has. “It’s so nice of you to be the team’s vet, Kami. I’m so glad Felicity and Nick have friends like you.”

Wow, that wasn’t a fireball straight from a guilt monster at all. I smile weakly as I busy myself helping Sugarbear out of the car. “Where do you want her? I promise this is a short-term thing. Just until I can find a petting zoo or something that will take her.”

According to Felicity, who cornered Zeus last week, the cow came from an auction somewhere outside the city. Apparently they knew I’d find her a home.

I hope every one of them gets sprayed by a cat with anal gland issues when they do their shelter volunteer days.

Kami will take care of it. She’s so sweet. She won’t let anything happen to these poor innocent animals we use. She’s so dependable. She’s so fucking boring.

Felicity joins us again as we get Sugarbear set up in the grass behind the pool, which is thankfully covered. “Do you have the yard treated?” I ask.

“With organic fertilizer.”

I smile at her wry tone. “Your insistence?” I ask Felicity.

“No, Nick’s,” Mrs. Murphy answers. “Do you have dinner plans? We’re having tacos, and we haven’t seen you in forever.”

Pew pew goes the guilt blaster. “You saw me just last week at my birthday party.”

“But you were so busy, we didn’t get to talk.”

“Actually, I need to go get ready for a date,” I lie, because Felicity was kind enough to let me know that Nick’s living here while he looks for a new apartment, and I don’t want to be around when he gets home from afternoon practice.