Free Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) by S. M. Smith Page B

normal.”
    “Prescriptions? Is he okay?” I ask, taking the bag and turning a more concerned eye down to the lovable chunker.
    “Had hip surgery a few weeks ago. He finished up his physical therapy this morning. Doc has cleared him to come home.” She looks longingly at the dog. 
    She hands me the bag, giving me one more once-over, making me feel like I’ve somehow stepped on her toes. When she shakes her head and reaches for her glasses, I think I catch a glimpse of her eyes rolling. She turns without saying another word so I don’t even bother with standing to say goodbye. She suddenly stops after she opens the driver’s side door and pulls the glasses back up.
    “Listen, I know why you’re here, but can I just give some unsolicited advice?”
    Everything about the way she’s been staring me down screams there’s a story here, but something deep down is fighting my natural urge to ask. Instead I just watch as her eyes take in the sight of me and Hank in front of her.
    “Logan’s a great guy and all, but…but don’t fall for him. You’ll only end up in pain before it’s all said and done.”
    “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here, but do you mind me asking what your relationship with Logan is?” I ask, before she can climb back in and drive off.
    A sad, almost sarcastic smile slides over her face. “If you don’t already know the answer to that…” she stops herself and looks off into the distance as if she’s trying to hold her tongue. “That’s probably a better question for Logan.”
    This time she slides back into her car before I can get another word out.
    Feeling like I’ve hit yet another blackened out window that could give me something into Logan’s life, I turn and hold the front door open for Hank. He takes his slow, sweet time walking inside. His claws click on the hardwood floors as he searches the living room then the kitchen for presumably Logan. When he turns to head down the hallway that leads to the gym, I call out to him.
    “I’m sorry, little guy. He’s not here right now.”
    Hank stops and turns around to face me, gently plopping himself down. His beady eyes staring at me sadly.
    “I was going to go into town,” I tell him, somehow expecting him to understand me. “Do you think you can hang out here until we get back?”
    The dog doesn’t move an inch, those sad, black eyes still boring into me. Guilt tugs at my heart and suddenly, I can’t leave the poor baby here by himself. Not sure if he should roam the town with me, I sigh and retreat to my room. Dropping my purse on the little desk and kicking off my shoes, I turn to find Hank staring at me from the doorway.
    “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m not going anywhere today.”
     
    ***
     
    The sound of the kitchen door slamming shut jars me and Hank awake. His head lifts up off my leg so he can sniff the air. He starts to get up but our blanket is tangled around his stumpy legs and I’m pretty sure that jumping off the couch could be detrimental to the physical therapy he just completed.
    “Hold on, hold on.” I wrap one arm around his thick body and lift him up enough to untangle the blanket and use both hands to put him back down on the floor. The clicks he makes as he takes off and up to the kitchen are the fastest pace I’ve yet to hear him move and it makes me smile.
    “Hey there, Hank-man. Welcome home.” I stand up and peer into the kitchen. Logan winces as he crouches down and ruffles the pups jowls with both hands.  He winces again as he goes to stand and picks up the bag of medication I left on the island.
    “You okay?” I ask as I fold the blanket and place it over the back of the couch. Logan looks to me in surprise. Whether he’s surprised I’m still here or if I’m asking about his well-being, I’m not sure.
    “Yeah, just pushed a little harder than usual today.” His brows furrow as he turns back to the instructions in his hands. “You were here when Cassady dropped him off?”
    I