by Avery Ford
Every one of Dmitri’s dogs was as sweet as could be. There were a few he’d trained into guard dogs for security firms or the estates of the incredibly rich, but he vastly preferred dogs whose obedience wasn’t linked to violence.
“They’re so cute,” Rachel said as she entered the enclosure. She shut the door behind her. “Look at them, getting along with my puppies. Sweethearts, every one of them.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have Soldier here with me today,” Dmitri said.
“Soldier?” Rachel sat by his side.
“A dog I’m rehabilitating from Locust Hill. I think he’s a Cane Corso and Doberman mix, probably with something else thrown in. A big, powerful, fear aggressive dog. We’ve been making progress, and so far he’s been okay with the dogs I bring home, but I wouldn’t trust him around puppies just yet.”
“Mm. You really are incredible, you know.” Rachel cupped her knees with her palms. “Not everybody would go out of their way to rehabilitate a troubled dog like that. Do you think you’re getting through to him?”
“I know I am.”
It had been close to a week since Dmitri had brought Soldier home. In that time, Soldier had gone from crouching in the corner of the kitchen, watching Dmitri suspiciously, to walking freely around the house. He’d met with Lily, who was the sweetest of Dmitri’s bitches, and with Poindexter, who was so clueless that there was no way Soldier could feel threatened. Then, when he was adjusted, he’d met with Voss and Jagger.
So far so good.
Dmitri was proud of him.
“Well, if there’s one thing I don’t doubt, it’s that Dmitri O’Hannahan can get through to a dog.” Rachel lifted her arms and stretched to one side, then the other. When she settled, she crossed her legs and leaned back against the wall. “You’re always here, after all.”
“I’m not always at the kennel,” Dmitri said defensively.
“Okay, let me take that back. You’re almost always at the kennel. If you’re not, you’re probably at Locust Hill. And if you’re not there, you’re at an AKC rally, bringing home another championship title.”
Dmitri couldn’t argue — she was right.
“Dmitri… I know that this is what you do, but I’m starting to worry about you. Ever since your mom died, you’ve been burying your head in the sand by making work your whole world. You live and breathe this. Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”
“I’m… okay,” Dmitri said. He wasn’t sure if he meant it. “The dogs need me.”
“Sure they do. But you know what? You need you, too. If you keep working like this, you’re going to burn out. I don’t want you to get sick, too.”
“I’m not going to get sick,” Dmitri murmured. Memories of his mother’s deteriorating health and the fear that he was going to face the same wasting health issues left him feeling uncomfortable. “I’m still young.”
“So act like it,” Rachel said. “You’re twenty-seven, not seventy-two. Come out and have some fun with me. Harry and I are talking about going on a date. You should come.”
“… You want me to be a third wheel on a date with your husband?” Dmitri asked flatly. “I don’t know what world you’re living on, but on my planet, that’s not considered much of a good time.”
Rachel laughed. “No. I mean, you should come on a double date with us. Let me set you up with someone. There are other gay men in Rollins, you know. I’ve got my mind on someone I think would be perfect for you.”
Dmitri let his gaze lose focus. Going out on a blind date did not sound like fun, but the itch was back, and it tormented him as it had never done before. The only reprieve had been the few times he’d crossed paths with Arthur at the shelter.
Sapphire eyes. Tight, scornful lips. Messy brown hair…
“It looks like you’re lost in your head,” Rachel remarked. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Dmitri snapped back to real life. “When are you thinking of going out?”
“Really?” Rachel’s whole face lit up. “You’d consider it?”
“When are you thinking of going out?” Dmitri repeated playfully.
Rachel laughed in victory. “This Friday night. Maybe Saturday, if that works better for you and your mystery man.”
“Either day works for me,” Dmitri said. “Getting out of the house for a while is going to do me good. You’re the second person in a week who’s mentioned how lonely I look. I’m going to take it as a sign that this was meant to be.”
“I’m so excited!” Rachel beamed. “I’ll text you to let you know about the when and where, okay?”
“So you’re not going to tell me who it is you have in mind?” Dmitri lifted a brow as he looked at her. “Not going to describe him to me?”
“Nope.” Rachel already had her phone out, and she angled it so he couldn’t see the screen. “I’m going to text him to ask him what his schedule’s like so we can get this thing in motion immediately. I really didn’t expect you to say yes.”
“I’m full of surprises,” Dmitri admitted, dry sarcasm seeping into his tone. “Just… let’s do something traditional. Dinner, or movies, or something. No ziplining.”
“No ziplining,” Rachel agreed. “Harry and I aren’t very exciting people anyway. Dinner sounds just fine for us.” She grinned. “I’m just so thrilled you’re actually doing it. I feel like I’ve been pestering you since forever about it, and it’s finally happening. You have no idea how glad that makes me.”
“You’d better remember this moment, because I’m pretty sure I’m never going to let it happen again.” Dmitri shot her a look.
Truth be told, it wasn’t only Martin’s prodding at dinner the other week that had lit a fire under his ass. Seeing Arthur at the shelter, even if it was only in fragments and pieces, rattled him. The emptiness was more intense when Dmitri was alone than it ever had been before. More than that, he hated how good he felt when Arthur was near.
If he could go out on a blind date, he’d be able to remind himself that there were other men out there. Other less annoying, far more mature men. Men who Rachel and Harry would approve of.
Dmitri could move on.
“I will,” Rachel said. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to hire a camera crew to follow us around so I’ll have video evidence.”
“Is your goal to talk me out of coming?” Dmitri asked with a laugh. “All I want is a casual evening with some company, okay? No big video productions, no actors, no dramatic twists and turns.”
“You got it.” Rachel winked. “Like I said, we’re boring. You have nothing to worry about. I can dream all I like, but in the end, it’s going to be a routine dinner with some good friends.” She looked down at her phone. “Oh look! He got back to me. Friday’s good. It’s only Monday, so that gives you plenty of time to get ready.”
“Great.” Dmitri did his best to ignore the pang of hesitation in his chest. “I’ll be there.”
It was time for something new.
He needed this.
A little change would knock him out of his routine and get his head back in the game. At the very least, it would help get his mind off Arthur.
11
Arthur
The thick, imposing envelope from Blackburn University remained unopened. Arthur kept it tucked in his bag, and he did his best not to think about it. Inside that letter was the answer he’d been waiting close to a year to know.
Inside the letter was his acceptance or rejection from Blackburn’s biology graduate program — Arthur’s top choice for school.
In the preceding days, Arthur had received letters from other colleges. Most were from in-state colleges he’d applied to as just-in-case scenarios. A few others were from out-of-state, colleges he wasn’t expecting to be granted admission to. There were some yeses and some noes, nothing that drastically altered the course of Arthur’s life any. He knew that if he wasn’t accepted to Blackburn that there were other colleges eager to have him, and that in itself was a relief.
/> But he couldn’t bring himself to open the letter he’d been waiting for the most anxiously.
“Hey,” Quip whispered. They were side by side, trying to slog their way through a study packet that Dr. Halifax had distributed. “Do you have any 0.5 lead? I just ran out.”
“It’s in my bag, in my pencil case,” Arthur whispered. His bag rested on the floor between their chairs. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
Quip rooted through the bag. Arthur heard the zip of his pencil case opening, then the sound of Quip’s fingers disrupting his collection of pens and pencils. Quip pulled out a little container of lead from Arthur’s pencil case, but he also pulled free the thick envelope from the Blackburn admissions department.
“Explain yourself,” Quip whispered, setting the envelope on the table between them. “This baby’s sealed, and it says the postage date was last week. You’ve been hanging onto this for days without opening it.”
Arthur stared so hard at the study question on the page before him that he was certain it would burst into flames if he went any harder. There was a dissonance inside of him that made him want to avoid the letter at all costs.
If he didn’t know what it said inside, he didn’t have to deal with the disappointment of being turned away.
“Hey.” Quip poked his side. “You can’t leave me hanging. I understand that you’re scared, but now that I’m here, we can deal with whatever it says together.”
“Right.” Arthur sucked in his bottom lip and glanced at the letter. There was no indication on the envelope if it was good news or bad. “… Can you open it?”
“I think that’s a felony,” Quip said, tone hushed. “You’ve gotta do it yourself.”
Arthur set his pencil down. He looked at Quip, begging him with his eyes to reconsider, but Quip held firm. He pointed at the letter, and Arthur folded.
The paper was stiff. Holding his breath, Arthur opened the back flap. He squeezed his eyes closed as he guided the paper from inside.
“Open your eyes and tell me what it says,” Quip whispered.
Arthur did.
He unfolded the letter and smoothed it flat on his desk.
Dear Mr. Jessup,
We are elated to welcome you to the graduate studies program for biology at Blackburn University.
There was more to the letter — much more — but Arthur’s eyes were fixed on the first sentence. He read it again and again, but each time, nothing changed.
Quip covered his mouth with his hands and choked back a cry of victory that earned him a scowl from Dalton, but it didn’t look like Quip noticed. He reached out and dropped a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, smiling ear to ear.
“You did it!” Quip whispered. “You must be over the moon! This is exactly what you wanted! Congratulations.”
Arthur read the first sentence again. He held back a frown.
He should have been so full to bursting with happiness that he couldn’t sit still. Instead, he felt nothing.
No matter how many times he read that sentence, it didn’t change how he felt.
There was something disconnected about it all. Something wrong. He traced his fingers over the paper, looking for answers, but found nothing.
For the last year he’d worked his ass off to make sure he got in. He’d fought with everything he had to keep his grades up while working almost full-time so he could afford his apartment and the tuition his father now refused to pay. Against all odds, he’d made it.
But Arthur felt hollow.
“Let’s go out for dinner,” Quip whispered, a thousand times more enthusiastic than Arthur would ever be. “My treat. I mean, I’m not exactly rolling in dough, and it’s not like Rollins has a lot of gourmet fare to offer, but all the finest fast food shall be yours. You just have to say the word.”
“Thanks,” Arthur murmured. He folded the letter back up carefully, then returned it to its envelope. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
“It’s funny how stunned you are,” Quip said with a broad grin. “You’re so shell-shocked that you almost look haunted. God, you’re going to be a basket case when the shock wears off. What else do you want to get up to tonight? Celebratory drinks? Snooping out a house party somewhere?”
“Dinner’s fine.” Arthur didn’t feel much like celebrating. Getting into the graduate program at Blackburn had been something he’d wanted to do to make his father proud, but no matter his accomplishments, that wasn’t going to happen anymore. He could be a world class geneticist and still his father wouldn’t forgive him.
Arthur swallowed down the knot in his throat and put the letter away.
“If you change your mind, my schedule is wide open. We can do whatever you’d like.”
“Thanks.”
Quip clapped him on the back, then turned in his seat to face the front again. He fitted lead into his pencil, then clicked the top a few times to get it to load into the chamber.
“All right,” Quip murmured. “Time to see how much we’ve forgotten throughout the course of the semester. This is going to be fun.”
But all Arthur could think about as he looked down at the practice questions was the crossroad he’d now come to, and what it would mean for his future.
12
Dmitri
“Did you hear?” Nikki leaned forward, eyes gleaming. Dmitri saw her clearly from his spot in the office, but as far as he could tell, neither Nikki nor Elizabeth, another of Locust Hill’s longterm volunteers, could see him. They didn’t know he was there.
“Hear what?” Elizabeth asked.
“About Dmitri.”
It was Dmitri’s turn to lean forward. He crossed his arms on the office desk and furrowed his brow as he listened in. He was filing the return paperwork for Soldier, but now he was glad that he was at a desk instead of working with another dog.
Dmitri didn’t like rumors. They never led to anything positive.
“No. What?”
“Well, you know he runs O’Hannahan Kennels, right?” Nikki’s voice was conspiratorial. “One of his bitches went into heat recently, one of his purebred, super fancy, AKC champion bitches, and apparently she got out and now she’s pregnant by some alley mutt.”
“Are you serious?” Elizabeth asked with a gasp. “He must be furious. That’s like, what, how much does he charge for those dogs? A few thousand dollars a puppy? That’s a lot of money to lose.”
“So I think that’s why he’s been so grumpy lately,” Nikki said. “That’s what Celeste has been saying, at least.”
“I should have known,” Dmitri said aloud. He stood from the desk in time to see Nikki and Elizabeth jump apart like they’d been caught in a tryst. “For your information, if you care about the truth, Annie is being bred by another purebred Belgian Malinois. With any luck, he’s already sired pups with her. It shouldn’t be that long before I know.”
“Oh my god,” Nikki squeaked. “I’m sorry, Dmitri. I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t know, so I’ve told you.” Dmitri left the desk and headed for the office door. He joined them in the lobby. “And I’m sorry if you think I’m being ‘grumpy’. I didn’t think I was acting much differently than normal, but I guess I was mistaken.”
Nikki and Elizabeth were both red with embarrassment. Nikki shook her head, unwilling to meet his eye.
“It was wrong of me to gossip,” she said. “I’m sorry, Dmitri.”
“You’re fine.” Dmitri punched in the access code for the door to the main hall. “But I’m going to have a word with Celeste about starting rumors she knows aren’t true.”
The door opened. Dmitri let himself through. He passed the cat rooms and made his way for the kennels. Celeste was in one of the kennels, washing the floor.
“Celeste,” Dmitri called out as he approached. She stopped mopping and looked up, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Can I have a word with you, please?”
“Not now, Dmitri. I’m busy. I’ve got to get all these kennels cl
ean before Ar—”
“I don’t want to leave this hanging unspoken.” Dmitri stopped outside the kennel, but didn’t open the door to let himself in. Instead, he watched her through the gaps in the chain link. “I just heard the rumor you started about Annie getting out and being bred by an alley dog.”
“Oh.” Celeste’s expression hardened. The usual sparkle in her eyes was gone. “Dmitri, listen — I’m having a bad day. Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow? I’m not in the mood to have this conversation now.”
“And I’m not in the mood to have my bitch’s reputation smeared by carelessly spoken lies.” Dmitri stood firm in front of the kennel door. “Why would you say something like that? It’s not like it’s such a big deal, but if word got out online it could throw the reputation of O’Hannahan Kennels into a tailspin. I don’t want anyone to have reason to believe their dogs are anything less than purebred.”
“It’s what I overheard you telling someone else the other day,” Celeste said defensively. “You were talking about how you headed out of the house so abruptly because Annie was in heat.”
Dmitri pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you leapt to the conclusion that she’d gotten out and conceived with a stray?”
“I told you before, I’m not in the mood to talk right now.” Celeste set her jaw. She gripped the handle of the mop like a lifeline, her knuckles turning white as she did. “I’m having a bad day, Dmitri. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”
“Who else did you tell?” Dmitri asked.
“Dmitri, drop it.”
“It’s important to me,” Dmitri said. “I haven’t spent my entire life running this kennel to have rumors start flying about it. I need to stop word from getting around before it gets to someone it shouldn’t get to.”
“I only told Nikki.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Celeste narrowed her eyes and scowled. “Why are you being such a dick? If I said I only told Nikki, then I only told Nikki.”
