I was dog-sitting for my parents during their trip to the Bahamas.

Of course, I worked from home and lived nearby, so it made sense, and I wouldn't have minded... if it wasn't for the fact that Bud--short for Budweiser--was an absolute menace.

The Australian Terrier did only two things: he either yapped ceaselessly at people, other animals, the wind--everything, really--as if he thought he was twice as big, or humped everything that let him. That poor monkey plushie of his had surely suffered greatly over the years.

After trying, despite myself, to ignore the horny mutt and its relentless whining for a few hours, I simply couldn't get any work done, so I took him on a walk around the neighborhood. I still had quite a few tasks to finish for tomorrow, so this had to be an in-and-out deal.

"A quick poop and then we're headed back," I said to Bud, as if his tiny doggy brain could understand the concept of deadlines.

The dog ignored me and started yapping at a squirrel.

"Great..." I sighed.

At least it was nice out. The sun was shining, a cool breeze brushed against my skin, and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Crazy to think that my parents would spend money to stay at a resort when we had weather this good.

And yet, I envied them. I was well overdue for a vacation, and the idea of sipping margaritas on the beach didn't sound too bad at all. But I simply didn't have the time or the money right now.

Soon, I told myself.

Since I wasn't really the 'runner' type and didn't have a dog myself, I rarely walked around the neighborhood like that.

Admittedly, those were some lame excuses. I just never took the time.

But I was glad to be out right now. I wasn't thinking about work or anything. I was just looking at the trees, listening to the birds singing--

--and to Bud growling.

I snapped back to reality when I felt him pull on his leash.

He was trying to sniff another dog's butt. It was a German Shepherd, a massive thing that could easily bite this little guy's head right off if it wanted to. But it didn't seem to mind.

"Aww, aren't you a cute one!" said the owner of the bigger dog as she crouched down to pet Bud behind the ears.

I hadn't even noticed her until now.

She had raven hair loosely tied in a messy bun at the top of her head, with a few curly strands escaping the elastic. Her big blue eyes were framed by fake lashes and thick eyebrows. She wore short gym shorts that rode up her thighs as she crouched down, flashing just a glimpse of her thick ass, and she clearly wasn't wearing a bra, as the outline of her heavy breasts and stiff nipples showed through her Bruno Mars T-shirt.

She said something I didn't understand when I realized I'd been gawking at her for much longer than what would be deemed appropriate.

"Sorry, what was that?" I said, stupidly.

She smiled.

"I just asked what his name was," she said a little louder, still petting my parents' dog.

"Oh, erm. Bud. Like Budweiser," I started explaining as I approached them. "Dumb name, I know. Picked it like 12 years ago."

"No, I like it!" she laughed. "It's cute. This one's Mimi. She's a gentle giant. Say hi, Mimi!"

As she spoke the command with the gentlest voice, her dog, Mimi, sat and raised her paw, her jaw open with her tongue hanging out to the side.

"Oh my god," I said, genuinely impressed. "She's really well-trained! Bud couldn't even learn to fetch."

She giggled again, covering her mouth as she did. She was so astonishingly gorgeous in this moment.

She got back up and walked toward me, letting the dogs sniff each other out.

"I'm Jenna, by the way," she said.

"Fred. Nice to meet you."

"I haven't seen you walking your dog around here before," she said. "I'm pretty well acquainted with most of the other dog owners here."

"Oh, that's because I just moved here," I lied.

"Huh," she said, considering me. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Fred. I'll see you around."

She smiled and continued on her walk.

What was I thinking? I've been living here for years now. Fuck.

You know exactly what you were thinking. You wanted her to think you were also a dog owner, since it's the only thing you have in common aside from living here. Saying you were dog-sitting for your parents as a 27-year-old would have been an ick, and you want to see her again.

Damn. That makes a lot of sense.

I had to see her again.

~

Over the next three days, I must have taken Bud out every hour or so to maximize my chances of seeing that hot neighbour, Jenna, again.

At first, the little guy was ecstatic, as he'd never been on so many walks before, but by the ninth walk in a single day, I could tell he was getting fed up with it. He started hiding around the house every time I picked up his leash, and I basically had to pin him down to put it on him.

I went out early in the morning, at noon, before and after supper, late at night, and I still hadn't seen her again. Not even once.

My obsession was getting debilitating. She was consuming my every thought, and I could barely focus on work. I couldn't stop picturing her--her casual elegance, those beautiful eyes, and that body of hers...

Fuck.

I'd been staring at my screen for 30 minutes and still hadn't written a single line of code.

I opened Outlook and sent a quick email to my boss, asking for an extension. Then I closed my computer.

"Come on, Bud!" I shouted, and I heard the dog whimper from across the room.

Again? Get a life, his eyes said as he lay on the couch.

I ignored it, put his leash on, and took him on another walk.

We circled the neighbourhood once, twice, went to the dog park, then circled the neighbourhood again... and still no signs of her.

It was as if she had vanished. There and gone. A fleeting figment of my imagination. A desperate plea for social interaction, perhaps, or simply companionship.

Oof. That got sad real quick.

I sat on a bench in the park to process everything that was going through my mind right now.

What was I thinking? I'd only met this girl once, and already I was obsessed with her. I just had to accept that I wouldn't see her again and move on.

Who knows, maybe this was the wake-up call I needed to finally get on the apps?

A disgusting retching sound snapped me out of my moment of self-loathing. I looked to my left and saw Bud breathing heavily, trying and failing to puke, with half-eaten garbage laid out in front of him.

Oh fuck.

I jumped toward him and quickly checked to see if he still had anything in his mouth or if something was stuck in his throat.

"Come on, buddy," I pleaded as I pried his jaw open.

I couldn't see anything, and he wasn't looking good.

Shit.

I panicked. I picked him up in my arms and ran back home. I put him in the back seat of my car and drove straight to the closest vet I could find on Google Maps.

I burst through the doors of the clinic and made a beeline for the reception desk.

"My dog swallowed something," I said through panicked breaths. "Trash or something. I didn't see what it was, but he doesn't seem to be doing too good."

The receptionist immediately stood and met me on the other side of her desk.

"Alright, let me bring him to the emergency room," she said, calm and precise.

I handed the dog off to her.

"You can grab a seat," she said on her way to the back. "We'll take care of him."

And then she was gone.

~

"Mr. McClair?" said the technician. "Your dog's okay. You can come into the exam room. The doctor will be with you shortly."

Thank God. That had to have been the longest 47 minutes of my life. What would I have told my parents if Bud didn't make it?

I took a deep breath and stepped into the small cubicle room.

Bud, who was lying on the table, sat up as soon as he saw me walk in and started wagging his tail.

For what may have been the first time in my life, I was genuinely happy to see the little terror.

"Why'd you have to eat trash, Bud?" I whispered as I approached the table and gave him a good scratch behind the ears.

He yipped and started licking my hand.

The door opened behind me as the vet walked into the room.

"Mr. McClair," she started, looking at her notepad. "Good news: your dog didn't ingest anything toxic. It was just a small piece of plastic that got stuck at the back of his throat. But he should be all better now."

She looked up from her notes and removed her mask.

"Jenna?"

My eyes went wide.

"Fred!" she said, her big blue eyes lighting up. "I thought I recognized Bud."

I just gawked at her, thoroughly stunned.

I hadn't recognized her at first with her big, round glasses that hung at the tip of her nose. Her hair was tied in a tight ponytail. She wore navy scrubs that emphasized the color of her eyes and hugged every curve just right.

I was so glad to finally see her again, yet so fucking embarrassed that it was in her workplace of all things--and for something so stupid.

"H-hi," I managed, my voice just a smidge too high-pitched. "I didn't know you were a vet. No wonder you're so good with animals!"

I moved slightly closer to her.

"Thank you, honestly," I said, my voice lower. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."

"Oh, please, it's nothing," she said. "That's what we're here for."

"No, no, I mean it! I owe you one."

Here I go.

"Let me buy you a coffee," I offered, "or a drink sometime. My treat. It's the least I can do to thank you. You did save Bud's life, after all."

She didn't say anything at first and just looked at me, her eyes searching mine.

"Sure," she said, that same genuine, gorgeous, full-lipped smile on her face. "I won't say no to a free drink. How about tonight?"

"Let's do it," I said simply, my heart pounding in my chest.

She scribbled something at the bottom of her notepad before handing the paper over to me.

"Great," she said. "I'll wait for your call."

And sure enough, she had written her number down for me.

"See you tonight then," she said. She gave Bud a good chin scratch. "Bye, buddy. Don't go eating trash anymore, okay?"

Bud's tongue was out, absolutely delighted by her attention.

Jenna was about to leave the room when she turned around and said, "Oh, don't forget to stop by the front desk to settle the bill."

She winked at me, and then she was gone.

The total at the bottom of that bill snapped me right back to reality.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered.

Oh well. It was worth it.