The Attack Zone (Slap Shot #2)

23. Stacey

CHAPTER 23

STACEY

I should not have suggested this.

When I saw the sign, I thought maybe we’d stop in quickly and grab a few photos of Mitch taking a tour for Rebounds for Rescues social media or something. I didn’t think it through, though, because now I’m sitting in a room with a very adorable, very nervous pit bull puppy while Mitch tries to coax it out of its crate.

“She’s so nervous,” he says. “Poor thing had her ears snipped too.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means they were planning to use her for dog fighting,” he says, voice dripping with sadness. “It’s okay, Bella, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.”

“They literally cut her ears off?!” I ask, anger filling me.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s terrible.”

So, so terrible. I guess that explains why the normally impatient Mitch has been sitting here waiting for her to come to him for ten minutes already.

“Why don’t you try?” he asks. “She might be afraid of men.”

“Oh, I ...” I say. “I don’t know. It seems like this is more your area of expertise.”

“She’s a puppy, not a piranha. It’ll be fine,” he says.

He’s looking up at me with puppy dog eyes bigger than Bella’s, and evidently I’m incapable of resisting them both because I cross towards the crate and squat down.

“Okay,” I say. “Give me a treat and wait over there.” I point across the room, close enough that he can help me if something happens, but far enough that his presence might not scare the dog.

Once he’s safely out of sight, I hold the treat in my hand and try to make myself as small and unimposing as possible.

“Hi, sweetie. I’m Stacey.” I say as of this dog needs to know my name. Good lord, I am not good at this.

She lets out a little whimper, shoving herself further into the back corner of her crate, and my heart basically breaks in half. No wonder Mitch is so intense about his non-profit. This poor pup is really struggling and she’s not even six months old.

“I have something for you,” I continue, holding the treat out in front of me carefully. “Do you want it?”

Her head moves forward a bit as her nostrils flare. Her nose moves a bit as she sniffs out in front of her. I reach my hand a bit further, this time moving it inside her crate so she can smell the treat better. She takes the most tentative step forward I’ve ever seen, but it’s in the right direction so I’ll take it as a win.

I move my hand back just an inch in an attempt to get her to keep moving towards the treat. It works, she moves towards me, each step becoming faster than the last. When her mouth is just millimeters from my hand, I extend the treat out. She gingerly takes it in her mouth and munches down on it slowly.

“Great job, love,” Mitch whispers. “Now try to pet her.”

I hold my other hand in front of her nose so she can sniff me. Once she seems comfortable, I reach for her head and give her a little pet. She nuzzles into my hand and her little tail starts to wag.

After a few moments of building up her comfort, I turn to Mitch. He has the sweetest grin on his face and if I wasn’t so focused on Bella, I’d find it insanely distracting.

“Do you want to try now?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says. I hope he isn’t brokenhearted if she’s still scared of him. It’s not his fault he’s a six-foot-five hockey player. He approaches slowly and quietly, making sure not to startle her. When her eyes find him, I feel her stiffen below my hands, but she doesn’t run away. He crouches down a few feet away from us and then, to my utter shock, he crawls on the ground towards us.

“I’m trying to get to her level,” he says. “Big dogs do it when they want to play with small dogs.”

“You’re a man,” I laugh.

“Don’t tell Bella that,” he laughs back as he army-crawls his way over. When he finally reaches us, he pauses. Bella still hasn’t tried to leave my side. I think she’s enjoying the pets a bit too much to care as much about Mitch. That, or his absurd army-crawling is working. Once he’s satisfied that he hasn’t scared her yet, he reaches his hand out to her nose. She sniffs it a bit and doesn’t seem too offended by his presence now. He pets her head lightly, his hand brushing against mine as he does. There’s something so sweet and kind about how he’s doing this, and when our hands brush again, I feel the ache to kiss him. I turn around to be sure no one is looking through the windows of the room we’re in, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek.

Bella lets out a bark .

I can’t tell if it’s a good bark or a bad one, and I still immediately, my mouth resting against Mitch’s cheek.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Her tail is wagging.”

He turns his head towards me and our lips meet. It’s a short peck, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was enough to make Bella jealous because then she launches herself at Mitch and licks the other side of his face.

“There we go,” he laughs. A puppy licking Mitch’s face has to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and it’s doing something to me, because I’m giggling uncontrollably.

I pet Bella’s back while she continues to give Mitch puppy kisses. The three of us are basically snuggling on the floor of this animal shelter when the staff member we signed in with walks through the door.

“I knew you’d be able to get her to come out,” she says. “You’re always so good with the most traumatized ones.”

Wait ... this woman knows Mitch?

This has happened before?

“Actually,” he says. “This one was all Stacey.” He rests his hand on my thigh after motioning to me. He doesn’t move it. Why isn’t he moving it?

And why do I like it?

“Well,” she says. “Great job. I’ll leave the three of you be. Let me know when you’re done and I’ll bring her back to her kennel.”

Once the staffer has left the room, I turn to Mitch. I feel like I’ve broken into a private, secret part of his life like the Kool-Aid man busting into someone’s house. I need to apologize. Or at least say something. But he’s looking at me with those puppy dog eyes again, though I can’t tell what he wants right now.

“You were great with her,” he says, kissing my temple.

“I had no idea you did this,” I say, trying to ignore the sensation of his lips touching my skin so sweetly. “Why haven’t we used this for Rebounds for Rescues ? ”

“It’s just something I do,” he says. “I’d rather not have people know. If that’s okay.”

I reach for his hand that isn’t giving Bella pets and give it a small squeeze. “Of course it’s okay.”

“Well, I, for one, am starving,” he says as he starts to stand up.

“What about Bella?” I ask.

“What about her?” he says, brushing some fur off of his pants.

“We can’t just leave her here,” I find myself saying.

He laughs and offers me his hand to help me stand up. “It’s a no-kill shelter,” he says. “She’ll be fine.”

“But ...” But what? It’s not like I’ve ever wanted a dog before. And I don’t want one now. “What if no one wants her since she’s a pit bull?”

“What are you proposing?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just ... maybe we should come check on her soon.”

“We?” he asks.

“If that’s okay?” I say, suddenly very self-conscious.

“Of course it’s okay.” He takes my hand in his and guides us out the door. “Now, let’s get some lunch, love.”

We park at Mitch’s condo and walk to a small cafe down the block. Once we both have our salads, I decide to ask Mitch the question that’s been on the tip of my tongue since we left the shelter.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask.

Mitch looks up at me with a smile that could level an entire mountain. “Of course,” he says.

“Why don’t you have a dog?” I ask. His face falls and I immediately regret the question. “It’s just ... you clearly love them,” I continue despite myself. “Is it your game schedule or something? ”

“No. It’s not that,” he says. “Well, not just that.”

“Sorry,” I say after a long moment of silence. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no,” he says. “It’s not you. I just ...” He lets out a short sigh and pokes at his salad with his fork. “There’s something I should probably tell you.”

Well, that sounded ominous.

“What is it?” I ask. He doesn’t say anything right away. Now he’s swirling his water in his hand, apparently mesmerized by the way the water is moving in the glass. “You can tell me, Mitch.”

He looks up at me, eyes soft and uncertain. “I have bipolar disorder,” he says.

Oh.

“Oh,” I say.

That is ... not what I was expecting.

“I don’t tell most people about it,” he says. “But my sleep schedule has gotten a bit messed up lately and it’s starting to have an effect.”

I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about this. I can tell he’s embarrassed, even if he shouldn’t be. I also feel horrible that I might have triggered something for him.

“I had no idea,” I say. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have made you stay up so late if I’d known.”

“It isn’t your fault, love,” he says. “I know what I need to stay healthy and I’m the one who ignored it. But anyway, that’s why I don’t have a dog.”

“What does bipolar have to do with a dog?” I ask.

“I’m not responsible enough for a dog,” he says. “I can barely keep my own shit together. Especially with how much I travel.”

I can understand what he means, but I also think he’d be able to figure it out. And he clearly loves dogs so much. He shouldn’t just be sneaking into animal shelters to get time with them. It’s not my place to tell him what to do though. We’re barely even friends. So I keep my mouth shut by shoving more salad into it and let Mitch decide if he wants to change the subject or not. I might be being a coward, but at least I’m not making him more defensive or uncomfortable than I already have.

“Anyway,” he says. “Please don’t tell anyone. I choose to keep it private.”

“Of course,” I say.

Then, despite the very loud alarm bells going off in my head, I reach across the table and grab his hand. We might just be fuck buddies, but he’s right, we’re friends. And friends reassure friends.

“I’m glad you told me. Now I won’t expect you to fuck me senseless at one in the morning,” I say quietly, making sure no one is listening.

“I still very much plan on fucking you senseless,” he laughs. “Maybe just a little earlier in the evening.”

“Deal,” I say, squeezing his hand a bit before forcing myself to let it go. It feels wrong right away, not holding onto him. But I refuse to start acting like this man’s girlfriend in public. I’m realizing I have to draw a line somewhere, or who knows what will end up happening? I can’t risk it.