But the worst damage comes from not being prepared. From being hit with disaster without an ounce of warning. From being deceived when the weatherman predicts sunshine and blue skies, completely ignoring the monsoon brewing outside your front door, just waiting to completely decimate you whole.
My proverbial natural disaster came in the form of a golden retriever while I read my book, minding my own business. I heard the clinking of the tags first, then the shuffles in the dried leaves that covered the ground. I glanced up from my book, wondering about the distraction ahead of me, when I found the most beautiful dog with long, blond hair and a wagging tail. I stood, stuffed my book into my jacket pocket, and then slowly approached the animal. I made sure to keep my movements soft and fluid, not wanting to frighten it, but it came right to me, panting around the heavy tongue that hung from the side of its mouth.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked aloud while petting the soft coat. I took a peek at its belly, checking the gender before taking a look at the tags around her neck. “You’re a good girl. Where’s your home?” Her tags held no information other than proof of her vaccines. I knew she belonged to someone who took good care of her because she certainly didn’t appear to lack food or shots.
She turned around, heading back where she had come from, and I followed, making sure she got home safely. Every few feet, she’d stop and glance behind her, checking to see if I still trailed her, and it put a smile on my face. I laughed at the thought of her playing matchmaker for her owner and me. That’d be something I would read about in a book, not something that’d happen in real life, but it gave me humor to imagine it, nonetheless.
We must’ve walked about six houses away from where we’d started, toward the far end of my street. The wooded area had grown wider with every step we took, and it became harder to see the houses on either side of the line of trees. But eventually, I followed the dog out of the neighborhood forest and into a well-manicured back yard on the street behind mine. Her pace slowed, showing how exhausted she must’ve been after her adventure.
I stroked her coat once more, and then waited for her to plop onto the open patio before turning to head back, but she stopped when someone spoke up. “Lassie? Where did you…?” I stilled at the edge of the yard, my feet teetering on the line of grass that disappeared beneath brown leaves. I didn’t move again until I heard my name. “Bree?”
With my heel dug in, I spun around, squinting my eyes in the sun to find the owner of the deep voice that had called my name. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found him, since I’d heard him say my name dozens of times before, but that didn’t stop the swarm of Monarchs in my stomach when my eyes settled on his before wandering south to take in a body I’d only dreamed about.
“What are you doing here, Bree?” he asked while twisting his shirt in his hands. His expression appeared rigid, concerned as he studied me carefully through his long lashes. The crease in his brow deepened the longer I stood there, but I couldn’t find my voice.
His rough, worried tone accentuated his intense stance and penetrating gaze, and it sent my world spinning. I’d seen him plenty of times in dress shirts and slacks, and even once while he wore a sweater and jeans. But nothing could’ve prepared me for what he’d look like without a shirt on. All the time spent imagining what hid beneath those shirts in class didn’t do shit, because the hard planes of his pecs, the clear definition of his abs, and the deep lines that ran inward on either hip—the ones that formed a prominent V leading beneath the waistband of his jeans—made my mental picture of him seem more like Popeye before the can of spinach. Whereas, seeing him with my own two eyes, in the flesh, right in front of me, he was definitely the sailorman post-greens.
“Bree…” His voice broke the spell enough to catch my attention. “Is everything okay? Are you all right? What are you doing here?” he asked as he took guarded steps in my direction.
I shook my head, needing to dispel the images his half-naked body projected in my mind, and directed my sight to the grass below my feet. “I’m fine, Axel. I’m just taken off guard. I didn’t know you lived here.” I glanced back up, sensing how close he’d gotten. “I was in my back yard reading when—what I’m assuming is—your dog came over. I just wanted to make sure she got back home safely. I swear, I didn’t know this was your house.”
His shoulders dropped as he released a ragged breath. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said with a shaky laugh. “Lassie likes to wander around in the trees sometimes when I’m working in the yard. I thought I heard her come back, and then I saw you, and my mind… I guess I thought the worst and panicked a little.”
I tried to smile, hoping it would ease the heart-pounding tension that now seemed to encompass us both. “It’s okay. I’ve got to say, seeing you kind of freaked me out a little, too. I wasn’t expecting to run into you in my own back yard—well, your back yard. You know what I mean.” My words became jumbled as I tried to explain, my waning insecurity coming back tenfold.
We’d managed to be at ease around one another for two weeks, talk about almost anything, laugh at everything, and not once did either of us act as if we shared airspace with Dumbo. Yet, for some reason, standing together in the open, away from the protection of school with no witnesses, we acted more like perfect strangers instead of friends. Our eyes failed to hold the other’s, our smiles faltered, and our chuckles came out forced and uneasy. Our feet shuffled nervously in the grass, and neither of us seemed to know what to do with our hands. This was certainly new, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
“I told you I live close to you. Your house is on my way home from the school. I wasn’t lying about that. It wasn’t a made-up excuse to see you or anything.”
“Yeah, but living close to me could be a mile or so away…that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re right outside my back door. It doesn’t even insinuate you’re in walking distance from me. You knew this whole time that we live, what…five, six houses away from each other, yet you never told me?”
He appeared to be put off by my attitude because his line of sight danced around the trees behind me, never settling on my face. “Yes, but I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it.” Finally, he took a deep breath and scrutinized me with his intense stare, making me feel as though a heat wave had blasted through my body, despite the sixty-degree weather and cool breeze. “I didn’t want to make it seem like an invitation to stop by, because that would be completely inappropriate. I understand I came to your house when you were sick, but I’ve since realized how wrong that was. And I swore I wouldn’t do it again—unless it’s absolutely needed. Unless you’re in trouble and need me to come. Other than that, I have no business at your house, and you have no business at mine. What good would it do for me to tell you where I live? Why would I need to tell you that?”
Axel had always been really good about not making me feel rejected, even when rejecting me. He had a way of wording things to ease the blow, and I was fine with that. I understood our friendship, and I never expected anything beyond it. I’d always kept our conversations clean, free of anything remotely close to indecent topics. So his explanation sent a hard punch to my chest, knocking the wind out of me. It hurt, stung, and the pain rippled through me until it morphed into anger. The anger bubbled, boiling into rage, which left my face heated from the fire it ignited within me.