by Melissa Haag
* * * *
For the next few weeks, the challenges stopped, and I pushed the pack, strange colored sparks, and my pull from my head. Instead, I focused on my studies.
Clay worked at Dale’s while I stayed on campus. I hadn’t given up trying to figure out why he’d picked Dale to be his employer. However, whenever I asked, he responded with a shrug. I never asked him if he followed me to school as Luke had suggested. Some things I preferred to remain a mystery.
I thought Clay’s expectations would change after our kiss, but he never pushed for more. He continued to stay in his fur most of the time, except for Tuesday nights when he had dinner waiting for me. I looked forward to our nights together and not just because he cooked exceptionally well.
Rachel knew I was spending more time with him, and on one of our quiet nights together, she asked about Clay-the-man while Clay-the-dog lay curled on the floor next to me.
“You are so weird about him. What is it about the guy that keeps you coming back?” She sat on the couch, folding her summer clothes and packing them into a tote.
Smiling slightly, I turned the page of the book in my lap before I answered.
“You don’t know him like I do.”
“How can you know him at all when you two don’t talk?”
“You don’t need to talk to get to know someone. You just need to listen,” I said absently, trying to concentrate on my reading. My words rattled in my head for a moment before what I said clicked into place. I froze and looked at Clay. His brown eyes met mine steadily.
Damn the patient, clever dog. A smile twitched my lips. I never had a chance...and I didn’t mind.
“But that’s what I’m saying. He doesn’t talk. What are you listening to?”
I laughed at her and myself. “Actions speak louder than words,” I quoted, finally looking up at Rachel. “He’s there when I need him, he’s kind and caring, he keeps me safe, and as you’ve seen, he cooks and cleans. What’s not to like, Rachel?”
She grumbled under her breath but didn’t have anything else to add.
Clay walked over to her and lay on some of her dresses, ending her mutterings that I should get out and meet other people. She laughed at him then tried to move him. He laid his head on his paws and winked at me. He wasn’t mad but enjoyed giving Rachel some grief.
Shaking my head, I went to the fridge and left Rachel to tug her dresses out from under his bulk on her own. In the fridge, I saw a new carton of orange juice along with a double-chocolate cake. Two layers of chocolate frosted goodness. My mouth watered. I usually ignored the food Rachel bought, but that one begged my attention.
“Can I have a piece of your cake?”
“I thought it was yours. It was here when I got home,” she called back.
I stood staring at the cake a long time. How could I be so blind? He’d shrugged when I’d asked why he’d gotten his job, but the answer, wrapped in layers of sinful chocolate mousse frosting, sat before my eyes.
Thinking back, I identified several of the little things I’d previously overlooked. Things I’d assumed Rachel had purchased, like movies I’d mentioned I wanted to see. He’d gotten his job for me because of my speech the day after we’d met. My heart melted a little as I thought of all the effort he’d put into trying to be what I needed, and I knew I fought a losing battle.
