Page 31

Juniper

From inside my apartment, I hear the high-pitched squeak of a bark. It sounds like a puppy, but our complex doesn’t allow pets. No one would be crazy enough to smuggle in a dog. Sure, maybe a rabbit or easily a fish, but definitely not a dog.

I peek through the peephole, but can’t see anything.

There’s a voice on the opposite side of the door, male, deep, and I relent, opening the door to see who smuggled a puppy into the building.

“Bailey, you’re going to get me in trouble,” Conrad says, bending down, petting the little pup, trying to settle his barking.

He’s absolutely adorable, the dog, that is, with his slightly fluffy coat of grays, black, and very light brown.

“No trouble from me,” I say with a faint smile, tilting my head and leaning in on the doorframe. “You’re one of Myles’s friends.”

“Guilty as charged.” Conrad meets my stare, his deep-brown eyes standing out against his dark midnight hair.

“Visiting Myles?” I guess, because why else would he be in the hallway on my floor? He’s not here to visit with me, and I doubt he knows any of my other neighbors.

“I was supposed to meet up with Myles, but I think he forgot.” Conrad gives me a lopsided grin. “I would try calling or texting him, but my phone is dead.” He shows me his cellphone. The screen is dark.

Sighing, I glance behind Conrad at Myles’s apartment door. He helped me once. He kept that bad date from turning into something of nightmares a couple of weeks ago.

The least I can do is help out one of his friends. It’s the neighborly thing to do, and whether I like it or not, Myles and I are neighbors, at least until I graduate college.

“Do you want to come in and charge your phone?” I offer.

Most strangers, I wouldn’t invite into my apartment, but it’s Conrad Sinclair. If there were anything dangerous about him, it’d be all over the news media. He’s never been in trouble for domestic violence. No prior arrests as far as I’m aware. The team members of the Ice Dragons are expected to uphold a certain standard. I’m not particularly concerned.

“Can Bailey come inside? We’re a package deal.”

I glance at the gray, black, and brown cutie. Bailey is mostly covered in gray, with a dark-black stripe going over the back. There’s black covering its ears and around the right eye, with light brown on its cheeks and paws. “What is it?” I’m not sure if Bailey is a boy or girl dog name.

“It’s a dog.” Conrad laughs at me, and I grumble under my breath.

“I meant is it a girl or boy?” I roll my eyes, slightly annoyed with his antics.

“Bailey is a girl,” Conrad beams, and I get the sense that he treats the pup like his child. She’s got an adorable collar and leash, both match with a hockey print, and on closer inspection, it is the Ice Dragons emblem with his jersey number all over it.

I’ll bet he had that custom made.

I’ve always wanted a pet, but with the apartment not allowing it and school taking over my life, it didn’t seem fair to adopt and not be around for it. “Do you know what breed she is? She’s stunning,” I admit. She’s also clearly still a puppy. She has the youthful puppy appearance that makes her paws too big for her body and that irresistible face.

“She’s a Blue Heeler mixed with Australian Shepherd. I think. That’s what the rescue claimed.” Bailey squats in the hallway, and Conrad’s eyes widen in horror. “No. No. No,” he chants, like that’s going to stop Bailey, who is mid-squat and emptying a full bladder.

Chuckling, I point toward my apartment door. “How about I grab some stuff for cleaning up and you two wait outside? I’ll charge your phone for you, and in the meantime, you can use mine to reach out to Myles.”

“Really?” Conrad’s eyes light up. “That would be great.” He heaves a sigh of relief.

“Can’t promise he’ll answer, but you can leave him a message. Give me a sec.”

He shoves his phone at me, and I head inside my place, plugging his cell phone into my kitchen charger while I bring back out my phone and some paper towels along with a small garbage bag to discard the remnants.

I unlock my phone for him, and he calls Myles who, of course, doesn’t answer the phone. Conrad leaves a voicemail with him and then proceeds to text him as well.

We trade off; he gives me back my phone and I give him the paper towels to dry up the hallway. He pats and blots most of the dampness. “It’s going to smell like pee.” He wrinkles his nose. “Do you have any carpet cleaner, or at least soap and water I can douse the mess with?”

“I swear you’re just like Myles, always asking for more,” I joke and head back into the apartment. I dig under the kitchen sink and find a mostly full container of carpet cleaner and offer it to him.

“Thank you.” His little pup starts tugging on the leash with her teeth.