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His eyes softened with sympathy. “Only if you let it. I don’t know your ex, but it looks to me like he took a big L for walking away from you.”
I dropped my hand from my neck, now warm and getting hotter from his assessment. “That’s kind of you.”
“I’m not being kind in a bullshit way. I’m being honest. Any man who was lucky enough to be with you and walked away needs to have his head checked for a concussion.”
I laughed. “My ex didn’t have a concussion, but he did have his head filled with dreams of making it big. We both did, if I’m being honest. But I tried to make the marriage and work life balance, you know? He didn’t want to.”
Ryder just shook his head. “His loss.”
We stopped talking. Maybe I said too much. A silent moment passed where our eyes met and I could tell we were both thinking of the same thing: last night, wrapped in each other’s arms, sweaty and tangled in the sheets. My body was a live wire as I recalled every touch, kiss, and thrust. Geez. I had it bad for Ryder.
“I better change and meet you at the dog shelter.” I got the car door open.
I felt his warm hand on my knee. The simple action made another memory unlock from last night. I was never going to be able to even look at another Lexus without thinking of my experience in this one.
“I can wait for you.”
“No, it’s cool. I can drive myself. Besides, I like to have all my work gear with me.” I talked on, trying to make a believable excuse for why we didn’t need to show up together.
He gave a knowing chuckle for all my effort at trying to save face. “Everyone knows you’re interviewing me for an article, Ava. It doesn’t look weird if we’re in the same car.”
But it would if I tripped up and stared at him too long. Or if my body was drawn his way. Already I felt a tug towards him. Before I could change my mind, I gave him a friendly, neutral wave. “You can text me the shelter address. See you in a little bit.”
I stepped away from the car. He left me with a half-smile and that worldly, bullshit-proof look of his before putting the car in reverse to pull out of the lot. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. I gave another wave.
Sure, I was neutral. Completely.
I took the stairs to my hotel room, popped into the shower, and got my stuff to get started for the day. Last night was in the past. I couldn’t let myself get sucked into an old headspace. For goodness sakes, didn’t I leave California for a reason?
I thought I left behind the old emotional Ava, the one who allowed herself to get wrapped up in a fuzzy romantic blanket, only to get drenched with neglect or ice-cold rejection. Ryder already showed he was different, that he respected me and could handle the one time we let our walls fall.
So why was I continuing to look for bricks to throw at my own boundaries?
I zipped my laptop bag. My body still remembered last night, but I had to put my mind on what I came here to do. This visit to the dog shelter would give me more writing material on Ryder’s life.
He texted me the dog shelter address. I plugged it into my phone’s GPS and got into my car. About ten minutes later, I arrived at my destination.
The shelter was a little haven nestled within a calm corner of the city. The exterior had charming wooden signs and a colorful mural depicting happy dogs in various playful poses.
I summoned my courage to go inside the facility Ryder had founded. I told myself I was here for research, though it was hard to get past the simple thought of wanting to see him again.
Eventually, I managed to walk through the front door. Soft barks and the soothing sounds of gentle conversations between staff and volunteers filled the air. I quickly picked up on a sense of warmth and comfort. The space was bright and inviting, with large windows allowing warm autumn sunlight to stream in.
The central reception area welcomed visitors with informative brochures about the shelter's programs and initiatives. Wall photos captured heartwarming moments of dogs finding their forever homes. Ryder was already there. He crouched on the floor of the lobby, giving a treat to a lab as he praised the dog for following a command. He saw my shadow fall over him and he looked up. My heart cartwheeled like a kindergartner trying to impress her first crush.
"Ava, what a nice surprise," he said, standing up and walking over to me. I caught a whiff of his cologne and had to resist leaning into him. "What brings you here?"
I blinked. This was odd behavior given that he just texted me the address.
Then he got close to me and muttered under his breath. “How’s this for playing along?” He was enjoying this too much. I caught that smirk on his face, an all-too obvious reminder of last night.
I corrected my stiff posture, hoping the heat from my flushed face wouldn’t cause my makeup to slide off. I considered myself a pro at journalism. Could I at least do a reasonably good job of amateur acting? "I heard about your charity. I'd love to learn more about the work you do here."
"I'd be happy to give you a tour," he said, his voice light and conversational. His eyes lit up as he began to describe the organization. "We train rescue dogs to be service animals for people in need."
As he showed me around, I became captivated by his passion for the mission. The main kennel area was a spacious haven for the dogs awaiting adoption. Comfortable bedding, toys, and water bowls were provided for each furry resident.
“This is Luna.” Ryder stopped by a kennel to pet a grey wiry-haired poodle. “She’s going to help a little girl with anxiety. And Oliver here will work as a medical alert dog for an older vet who lives alone.” He spoke about each dog and client with care and tenderness, and I could see how much this work meant to him.
