You ever have one of those days where you just don't know what to do with yourself? Nothing good on TV, no new episodes of your favorite show, nothing to do on the internet, no new book, no friends to hang out with. Nothing. You feel like a social introvert and just end up starring at the wall.
I was having one of those days.
I had gone to a party the night before, so I can't say I'm a total bum. But it was Sunday. I had zero motivation to anything and zero things that caught my interest. I was basically just a bump in my bed.
Eventually, my mother must have noticed, because, well, she notices everything (I'm convinced she's a witch, but not the bad kind though). So, like any self-respecting mother, she told me to get my lazy ass out of bed and go outside. I was, of course, appalled by the idea, but was forced to leave my humble abode and take the dog for a walk anyway.
The walk was supposed to be fairly pleasant. I planned on going up to this bakery/coffee shop that was about 3 miles from my house, and sit outside with Jack (my dog) and sip on a nice pumpkin latte, people watching. It was mid-fall. The leaves had all turned and fallen and Halloween was past, but the weather was still pleasant, if not a bit windy. Perfect day.
Well, it was until my plan completely failed, like most of my plans do.
I was just turning a corner, when I bumped into someone. Well, it wasn't really a "bump" it was more like a body slam into a wall of muscle, which ended up with me on my ass, which also lead to me releasing Jack's lease, causing the dog to run away like he was being chased by a panther.
So here I was, sitting on my ass, watching my dogs tail disappear around the corner. Now, I know what you're thinking "You idiot, don't just sit there. Go after the dog!" and I whole heartedly agree with you. And I would have. Except for the fact there was a huge, very immobile and very handsome guy standing above me, and for some reason my brain went caputz.
"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrow cocked.
"Do I look okay?" I asked from the ground, a bit rude I know, but the guy was kind of an ass. No "I'm sorry," no "Here, let me help you up." Just a quirked eyebrow.
"Sorry man, didn't see you there" he said, still not bothering to help me up or apologize.
"Oh, no it's okay. I mean, it's totally possible to not see a lanky teen with a 100-pound golden retriever walking in plain daylight in the middle of the side walk." I say, still sitting on the ground. I really should get up, but I was also kind of not looking forward to hunting down Jack.
"No need to chew my head off. But really, it was your fault for not paying attention." And he still had that fricking eyebrow quirked.
"My fault? My fault?! Who's the one sitting on his ass on the concrete because he got plowed over by the hulk, with his dog running free through the forest! That would be me!" I basically screech at him. My voice tended to pick up a few octaves when I got angry or excited. A trait I inherited from my mom sadly.
"Well, why haven't you gotten up?" he asked.
"Because I was hoping you would be a gentleman and help me up, but I guess not." I tell him as I stand up and brush myself off.
He was pretty tall, I'll say that much, he was a few inches taller than me, and I was almost 6 foot. He was packed with muscles, so much so, that his black T-shirt looked like it was about to rip across his biceps and pecs. Especially with him arms crossed. He probably spent about half his day in the gym, and the other half chugging protein shakes. Any other day, I would have been drooling over the meal in front of me, but this guy was clearly a jack ass and I still had to find my dog.
"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not much of the gentry type." I could see the tip of a black tattoo peeking out of the collar of his shirt. And a small scar on his eyebrow, the not raised one. Yikes. Defiantly didn't want to piss him off too much. Operative word in that statement being "too":
"I can see that. Well, thanks for the no help. Now, I must be off to find my dog." I say and start to walk off in the direction that Jack took off in. If I don't find him tonight, my mom's going to kill me.
"Hey, you want any help? It would be a lot faster if we took my bike." He said as he followed behind me. What was this guy's problem? First, he plows me over and doesn't apologize or help me up. Then he says it's my fault I got ran over. And now he's following me, wanting me to get on the back of his bike.
"Well, seeing as I'm kind of not wanting to die today by the hands of some crazy axe murderer in the middle of nowhere, I'm going to have to say no. Plus, hasn't your mother ever told you not to talk to strangers?" I keep walking, not turning around to talk to him, but I could feel him following me. That damn dog, once I get my hands on him, I'm going to use his hid as a rug, or a new blanket.
"That's a good point. But she never mentioned cute strangers." he said and I felt the blush rise up my neck. Damn, that was a good one. But I was not going anywhere with him, no matter how annoyingly charming he was being right now.
"Sweet talk will not get you anywhere. Now, would you please leave me alone?" Sure it was a bit rude, but he had been plenty rude to me.
"No, it would not please me to leave you alone. If you're not getting on the bike, then an extra pair of eyes couldn't hurt." Okay, this was getting ridiculous. I stopped and turned around to face him, only to have him nearly plow me over again. I took a step back and looked up into his eyes (which was an annoyingly beautiful forest green. My weakness.)
"Okay man, what is your problem? First you plow me over and don't even apologize and now you want to help me find my dog? What's the deal?" There goes that squeaky voice again. He just stares at me, now with a smirk on his stupid, finely sculpted lips.
"I find you interesting. Most people would be intimidated by me, or try and get in my pants. But you chew me out for running you over. And you're pretty damn cute when you're annoyed and flustered. Plus, it's my fault your dog ran away, isn't it? It's only right that I help you find him." And then he passes me, looking left and right into the surrounding trees. I'm kind of in shock, so I end up just standing there for a few seconds, my mouth gaping in silence. Which, is a feat in and of itself. But then I snap out of it and run after him. Damn, he has long legs. When I catch up to him, I'm panting and I feel like I want to pass out.
"First of all... you sounded very "rapist-ish" just then. Second of all, I am not cute, I'm manly as hell. And third, how the hell can you walk so fast?"
He just does this annoying smirk and keeps walking, totally ignoring my statement. Talk about rude.
********************************
It was around sundown when he finally found Jack. The stupid mutt was covered in filth, smelt like a sewer and was sniffing around in someone's garage. The dude, who I have come to know as Kyle, spotted him first, which irked me beyond belief. Everything he did irked me. From his stupid good looks, to his stupid muscles, to his stupid smooth ass comments. By the time we found Jack, my face was so red from embarrassment and annoyance, I thought it would melt off.
So, when I finally spotted him, I screamed his name like a curse word, and marched up to him. Which was in all retrospect probably not a good idea. About anyone could probably feel the anger and irritation rolling off me in waves by now, so like any dog would he immediately ran from me.
I was gripping the leash so tight that I thought it just might snap. I had been doing that since I started walking with Kyle, either blushing or furious, a lot of times both.
So as I stood in my silent fury, and watched my dog trot away from me, Kyle got down on one knee and started to call Jack in a soft coo. He was relaxed, and soft with his words and Jack slowly started to walk towards him. He smiled a little and held a comfy ease to him, if that made any sense.
And surprisingly, I wasn't mad at the fact that he could get my dog to come to him, but mesmerized in fact. All this time while we searched for the dog he had been annoying, and rude, and cocky, and couldn't seem to get his mind out of the gutter for any reason (I had received enough sexual hints and innuendos to make a nun faint) But in that moment, he kind of just stopped...and transformed into a different person. Someone, who wouldn't be so bad to be around.
I started walking towards them when Kyle finally got his hands on Jacks collar. I finally clipped the leash onto Jack's collar, and Kyle stood up to face me, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.
"Well, I hope you don't get into too much trouble when you get home." I sighed and looked down at my happy, panting, and absolutely filthy companion who starred back at me like everything was hunky-dory. I would have a nice time explaining to mom why he looked like chocolate lab instead of a golden retriever.
"Yeah, well, nothing to do about it. He needed a bath anyway." We stood there awkwardly for another couple of seconds, before Kyle raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck.
"So listen, I know this whole thing was kinda my fault, and I still feel bad about it..." He wasn't making eye contact with me, which was strange because he always looked at me when he talked to me for the past three hours.
"My buddy, his parents own this cool Italian place down on Second and Fillmore..." He was scuffing his shoes on the ground, and still scratching his neck.
"And, maybe if, you know... you might wanna..."
Then it hit me. He was nervous.
"Are you asking me on a date?" He looked up suddenly, and I saw the faint blush crawling up his neck.
"Yeah. I am." I thought about it. He was initially the whole reason I was in this mess, but...he did help me find Jack. And he was pretty cool when he wasn't making sexual innuendos and trying to annoy me.
"Alright. But you're paying; dinner and dessert." He looked at me and smiled that cheeky smile, and I wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time.
We exchanged phone numbers and it dawned on me how late it was getting. It was almost dark, and Jack and I still had 2 miles to walk back home (thankfully Jack went towards home and not away when he escaped.)
"We should probably be heading home now. It's getting dark pretty fast."
"Let me walk you home." He said as he came nearer.
"What? No, you've already helped enough. And I'm not some defenseless damsel. I can walk home by myself." I was a bit miffed he thought I was some pansy.
"Nah, I don't think you're weak or anything. Just wanna talk to you is all."
"We literally just spent the last three hours together."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't stop gripping at me about how I'm such an idiot and cursing me about making you lose your dog. Maybe I wanna see what you look like without a stick up your ass."
"Touché. Alright, if my mom's gonna kill me, might as well have a witness."
"Sweet. By the way, you have some leaves in your hair."
You could say my mom was pretty surprised when she opened the door to find her only son, her once golden, now brown retriever, and a delinquent looking vagabond standing on her front porch, damp from the sudden rain.
I saw the rant die on her lips, and she raised her hand to squeeze the bridge of her nose.
"Get in."
And the three stooges shuffled inside the warm house.