Page 75 of When In Doubt

“Shit.” I hiss as I narrowly avoid splashing myself. I put everything down and pull my robe tighter over the pajamas I changed into as soon as I got home. Padding over to the door, I spare a quick glance at the clock in the hall. Who’s at my apartment at eight thirty on a Thursday night?

When I reach the front entrance, I check through the peephole. I frown against the wood. On the other side there’s a slightly disheveled-looking Oscar, holding a large cardboard box.

What is he doing here? It’s been nine days since our date, and outside of the odd text conversation, he’s been too busy with work to catch up in person.

It was a little awkward at first, at least on my end, my mind still reeling from the almost kiss. But I can’t have made a total fool of myself, not when he’s been chatting to me in his easy way.

I just couldn’t break out of the spiral I was in. It felt too familiar, too much like all the times Aaron kissed me when I didn’t want him to, when he would talk me into things, convincing me that they were just “normal” and playing on my insecurities to get what he wanted. In my mind I know that this situation isn’t the same, that Oscar’s nothing like him. I just can’t quite get my nervous system to catch up.

I fumble with the chain, butterflies forming at the thought of having him in my space. As I get the door open, I can see that he’s breathing heavier and that his hair’s mussed, like he’s been running his hands through it.

“Freya.” His face goes soft when he says it and all those butterflies start rioting in my belly. He’s looking at me like he’d be happy just standing here doing that for the rest of the night.

“Hi,” I breathe out, not sure what else to say.

We stand in silence, the soft breeze lapping around my bare ankles as I watch a loose strand of his hair flop onto his forehead.

A scratching sound comes from the box he’s holding and my focus snaps down to it. He starts awkwardly shifting around, his arms flexing as they try to compensate for whatever’s moving inside the box.

“Are you allowed pets in your apartment?” he asks tentatively.

“What?”

“I figured you were. I know Ms. Roberts down the hall has like, fifteen guinea pigs.”

“How would you know that?” I don’t know why I’m asking, not in a town like Cedar Creek.

He shrugs. “Fitted her smoke alarm.”

“Oscar, what’s going on?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry.” He braces the box against the railing, one hand keeping it balanced as the other scrubs along his jaw. “I hate to show up like this, but it’s kind of an emergency.”

“What’s happening?” I step forward, looking over him like I’ll find a clue.

“Is there any chance you could take Harvey for a few days, maybe a week?”

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Wildfire callout, up in the Rockies.”

“Oh my God.” I cross my arms over my chest, my thumb running soothing circles over the inside of my elbow. I see Oscar notice, but I can’t stop myself.

“It doesn’t sound like it’s too bad just yet, but they’re calling in some of the reserves just in case.”

“And that’s you?”

“Yeah, me and a bunch of the others. We don’t get the call often, but when we do we gotta go.” He picks up the box again, looking at me hopefully. “I’m really sorry to dump him on you. My mom usually takes him, but she’s out of town. I could leave him with Joni but she’s already got Birdie to contend with, and⁠—”

“Hey, it’s fine.” I step forward, reaching out to squeeze his elbow. “I mean, it’s probably fine. I’ve never actually had a pet before.” I pick up one corner of the lid and peer inside, taking in the long body and big black eyes staring at me. This is okay, I can handle this. He’s just a bunny, how much trouble could he possibly be?

“I’ve got all his stuff, and he’s pretty low maintenance once he’s settled.”

I look behind him and see the bed of his truck filled with all kinds of rabbit housing. Will that even fit in my living room? As we enter my apartment I cringe at the mess I’ve let pile up. Errant balls of yarn decorate the floor along with about fifteen mugs littering every available surface. I frantically try to scoop things back into the basket, but Oscar doesn’t seem to notice. I clear a space on the couch and he sets down the box.

“I’m gonna go grab the rest. You are seriously saving my ass, Freya.”

“Do you need a hand?’