The Player and the Pixie(48)

“I didn’t, but thank you for informing me,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic.

“You should consider taking part in World Meat Free Day this year.” I nudged him encouragingly with my elbow. “I’m doing it, and so is Rick.”

“You can’t maintain a physique like mine by surviving on chickpeas,” Sean replied. “Now come on, let’s go get some street meat for dinner. You really do know how to treat a man.”

“Oh, don’t be such a snob,” I chided, laughing, and led him in the direction of the kiosk.

Along the way I spotted a guy playing Frisbee with his dog in the park. Pulling out my phone, I snapped a few shots. Sean arched a questioning brow in my direction, so I explained, “Taking pictures of animals is a hobby of mine. I’ve been collecting them for a while now. I’m actually hoping to set up a blog. Instead of Humans of New York, it could be Animals of New York. Or something like that. I don’t know. Maybe it’s silly.”

“I don’t think it’s silly,” said Sean warmly. “I think it’s a great idea. Plus, if the millions of views videos of kittens get on YouTube is anything to go by, there’s certainly a market for it.”

I shrugged, bashful but pleased he hadn’t thought it a stupid idea. When I’d told Mam about it she’d laughed and said I was just trying to find another way not to have a real job.

“I thought I could pair stories with the pictures, too,” I went on. “At the animal shelter we always get dogs coming in with tales of abandonment or how they’ve been left to fend for themselves. I feel like people need to hear their stories.”

Sean nodded enthusiastically. “And if these dogs get adopted into homes, you know, rehabilitated, you could add that, too. Give the story a happy ending.”

I smiled widely, taken aback by his suggestion. “That’s a lovely idea. Anyone might think you have a soft heart under all that muscle and brawn, Sean Cassidy,” I teased.

He lifted a shoulder. “I just like a good underdog story, that’s all. Every stray deserves a chance at love.” He stared at me a moment, and I was captured by the sincerity in his gaze. After a second, he grew self-conscious. “And you know, a home, a warm bed to sleep in at night.”

“You’re right. No dog, or person for that matter, should ever be left out in the cold.”

Right after I said it, Sean seemed to still, like I’d just said something that resonated with him. The intensity coming from him was almost too much, so I decided to move the conversation along.

“Anyway, if you’re interested, you should come along with me to the shelter some time. They always need the extra help, and I’m sure they’d be more than happy to welcome a big strong guy like you. There’s this gigantic malamute named Stan, and I swear he’s so powerful he almost pulls my arm from the socket when I take him for walks.”

Sean chuckled loudly. “When I was a kid I had an Irish wolfhound. His name was Wolfie, original, I know. The dog was huge. Up until I had my growth spurt at fourteen he’d run circles around me.”

I could tell by the way he spoke about the pet that he’d loved him, and something in my heart warmed to think of Sean loving something other than himself. It was a dangerous sort of warmth, one that could transform into true feelings if left unattended.

“I wish I could have met him.”

“He was . . . a good friend. I had him for ten years. He died when I was twenty-one and I never quite had it in me to get another. This is going to sound ridiculous, but it was like losing a person,” he said, laughing tenderly as I heard something catch in his voice.

I grabbed his arm and squeezed it. “It’s not ridiculous, far from it. You loved him. And,” I went on, grinning now, “as far as I’m concerned, dogs are people, so never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Sean smiled back at me, and in that moment it felt like we truly “got” each other.

We walked a bit farther in comfortable silence, the type of pleasant limbo one shares with a friend, until we reached the hot dog kiosk. Once there, I ordered for him, and then we sat on a nearby park bench to eat. Sean took several giant bites out of his hot dog and it was already gone. I was a little bit stunned by how fast he ate.

“Wow, do you rush through everything the same way you rush through sex?” I asked honestly, truly wanting to know. Meanwhile, my entire hot dog sat untouched in my lap.

He considered me as he chewed the final bite. “That’s a low blow, but yes, I just don’t see the point in waiting around. If you want something, go for it.”