The Air He Breathes (Elements, #1)(5)

My heart leaped into my throat and stayed there, blocking the ability for me to inhale my next breath. I slammed the car into park. Emma asked what was happening, but I didn’t have time to reply. I swung my door open, reaching the poor dog right as a man raced up to me. His wide-eyed stare locked with mine, almost forcing me to train in on the intensity of his stormy grayish-blue eyes. Most blue eyes came with a warm, welcoming feeling attached to them, but not his. His were intense, just as his stance was. Icy and private. Around the rims of his irises were profound blues, but silver and black strands of coloring were woven in and out, which added to the shrouded look in his stare. His eyes matched the shadows of the sky right before a thunderstorm was about to pass through.

Those eyes were so familiar to me. Did I know him? I could’ve sworn I’d seen his stare somewhere before. He looked both terrified and livid as he moved his eyes to what I was assuming was his dog, which was lying still. Around the stranger’s neck were huge headphones that were attached to something resting in his back pocket.

He was decked out in workout clothes. His long-sleeved white shirt hugged his muscular arms, his black shorts showed his built legs, and sweat was brewing along his forehead. I assumed he’d been taking his dog for a run when he lost hold of his leash, but the man wasn’t wearing any shoes.

Why wasn’t he wearing shoes?

That didn’t matter. Was his dog okay?

I should’ve been paying closer attention.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see…” I started to say, but the man grunted harshly at my words, almost as if they offended him.

“What the hell?! Are you f*cking kidding me?!” he shouted, his voice making me jump a bit. He lifted his dog into his arms, cradling the pet as if it were his own child. As he stood, I stood. As he searched around, I searched around.

“Let me drive you to the vet,” I said, my body shaking from seeing the dog trembling in the stranger’s arms. I knew I should’ve been annoyed with the tone he’d taken with me, but when someone was in panic mode, you couldn’t really blame them for their behavior. He didn’t speak back, but I watched the hesitation in his eyes. His face was framed with a very thick, dark, untamed beard. His mouth was hidden somewhere in the wildness resting against his face, so all I had to rely on was the story he told with his eyes. “Please,” I begged. “It’s too far to walk.”

He nodded once and only once. When he opened the passenger seat, he and his pet sat inside, closing the door behind them.

Hopping into the car, I started driving.

“What’s going on?” Emma asked.

“We are just going to take the pup to get checked out, honey. Everything’s fine.” I really hoped I wasn’t lying to her.

It was a twenty-minute drive to the closest 24-hour animal hospital, and the car ride didn’t exactly go the way I’d thought it would.

“Take a left on Cobbler Street,” he ordered.

“Harper Avenue will be faster,” I disagreed.

He grunted, his annoyance shining through. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, take Cobbler!”

I took a breath. “I know how to drive.”

“Do you? Because I think your driving is the reason we’re sitting here.”

I was five seconds from kicking the rude jerk out of my car, but his whimpering dog was the only reason I didn’t. “I already apologized.”

“That doesn’t help my dog.”

Asshole.

“Cobbler is the next right,” he said.

“Harper is the next, next right.”

“Don’t take Harper.”

Oh, I’m taking Harper just to annoy the living shit out of this guy. Who does he think he is?

I turned right onto Harper.

“I can’t believe you just f*cking took Harper,” he groaned. His infuriation made me smile a little, until I hit the construction zone and ‘closed street’ signs. “Are you always so ignorant?”

“Are you always…always…always...” I started stuttering, because unlike some, I wasn’t great at arguing with people. I actually sucked at it and normally ended up crying like a child because words didn’t form in my head at the speed that fights normally functioned. I was the awkward person who thought of the best comebacks three days after the argument took place. “Are you always…always…”

“Always what? Spit it out! Use words!” he ordered.

I swung my steering wheel around, making a U-turn, and headed for Cobbler Street. “Are you always a…”

“Come on, Sherlock, you can do it,” he said, mockingly.

“A DICK!” I screamed, turning on Cobbler.

The car went silent. My cheeks heated up, and my fingers gripped tightly around the wheel.

When I pulled into the driveway, he opened the door and, without any words my way, lifted his dog and rushed into the emergency room. I debated if that was where we should part ways, but I knew my mind wouldn’t be able to calm down until I knew the dog was okay.

“Mommy?” Emma asked.

“Yes, baby?”

“What’s a dick?”

Parenting fail number five-hundred-and-eighty-two of today. “Nothing, babe. I said tick. A tick is a bug.”

“So you called that person a bug?”