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My stomach drops. She and Eli know each other?
But where her face shows familiarity, his expression is blank, borderline wary, though he doesn’t seem necessarily surprised that she recognized him.
Weird.
Dr. Evie’s eyes take on a predatory look I don’t like even a little bit, and her posture shifts from grumpy boss into siren mode. It’s subtle, but I don’t miss the slight arch in her back and the coy tilt of her head. As she steps around me and closer to Eli, her hips sway. She practicallyglides.
Like a gorgeous poltergeist.
When Beth and I aren’t discussing Dr. Evie’s penchant for biting criticism, we’re rolling our eyes at her uncanny ability tochannel sex appeal while wearing a white lab coat. I swear, the woman has her scrubs and coat specially tailored to accentuate her figure.
I don’tlikethe woman, not even a little bit. But it’s imperative that Ipretendto like her. Not only to keep this job, but also because I need her recommendation for vet school. Which means I can’t punch her for the way she’s looking at Eli.
“Hello, Eli,” she says in a sultry voice that does not belong in an animal shelter. “I’m Dr. Evie. Eli, Evie.”
She laughs, like it’s the funniest thing ever how both their names start with E.
I frown. Okay, so shedefinitelyknows him. But if they know each other, why is she introducing herself? And why does he look so uncomfortable?
Eli circles his arms a little tighter around Doris—either in an attempt to protect her or use her as a canine shield—and takes the smallest step back.
“Hello,” he says stiffly. No smile.
Why does this make me so unreasonably pleased?
Doris gives a low growl as Dr. Evie steps closer. She pauses, eyes narrowing before they flick back to me, instantly shifting from sultry to sharp.
“Doris hasn’t been cleared for adoption yet,” she says. “And I wouldn’t think hockey players have the time to care for a dog.”
Busted!I wonder exactly how much trouble I’m going to be in for bringing Doris out. And for Eli’s visits when he’s made it clear he can’t adopt a dog right now. And for—wait.
Hockey player?
I make note of Eli’s broad shoulders and the way his thighs are testing the tensile strength of his pants seams. Professional athlete makes sense. Which I guess means his job is not bare-handed tree removal.
But wouldn’t I have heard about this? If Dr. Evie recognized Eli right away, Katrina and the other volunteers always drooling over him probably know who he is.
Come to think of it, they probablydoknow. I assumed they always congregated when he arrived because he’s attractive. Which could still be true. But I bet they just never mentioned who he is. And why would they? We don’t interact much. If they’re the cool girls, I hang with theothercrowd—the shelter’s social equivalent of the band geeks or nerds.
Though they’re both decades older than I am, Beth and Cyn are the only ones at the shelter I really talk to. I’ve always felt a little bit more on the outskirts when it comes to the college-aged volunteers and staff. Losing both parents early will do that to a person. I feel infinitely older than twenty-three.
Hockey, huh? I study Eli again, trying to picture him in skates, a stick in hand, and … whatever hockey players wear. A jersey? Pads? A helmet? Try as I might, my imagination has very little to draw from when it comes to this—or any—sport. I’ve never seen a hockey game despite Harvest Hollow being home to the Appies, a wildly popular minor league team.
One which Eli apparently plays for. It totally tracks. Still, finding out this fact leaves me strangely shaken for reasons I can’t really explain.
“Are you hoping to adopt a dog?” Dr. Evie asks Eli.
Eli seems to shrink away from Dr. Evil’s attention. The expression on his face returns to the lost look he wore when asking for a dog in need of a hug.
He drops his gaze to Doris. “I, um …”
I clear my throat, which feels slightly raw from all the cough-trauma. “Eli was actually interested in our volunteer program,” I say, hoping he’ll play along.
“You want to volunteer?” Dr. Evie asks him with an arch of her brow.
“Yes,” Eli says quickly. “The Appies do a lot of volunteer work, and I was interested in …”
His gaze meets mine, and it’s strange how we suddenly seem able to speak soundlessly from across the room.
