"Holy mother of crap!" I exclaimed as Spot, my hyper dog, managed to curl his leash around my legs and take off. "Spot!" I yelled after him, just as I fell. What was wrong with him today?

I got up and went in the general direction he had disappeared. There shouldn't have been many people in the park at this hour. I had hoped I'd find him quickly and give him a piece of my mind. I saw him near the lake and quickened my steps, angry steam coming out of my ears.

"Spot!" I shouted. His head turned to me, and then he turned his attention back to the dog next to him. It looked like a female.

Figures.

I sighed, aggravated.

"Come here, insufferable animal!" I was still in my work clothes, and it was enough that he had sent me onto the dirty asphalt. I whistled, hoping to get his attention again. There was only one way.

To advance on him.

I could see myself falling in the lake, just like Roger, or whatever his name was, from 101 Dalmatians.

"Spot, I swear, I won't bring you to the park for the rest of the month," I hissed, stepping on the still wet grass from the earlier rain. He barked and licked the other dog's head. As I approached, I saw the other dog had a tag too. Someone had lost her.

Dixie. That was a nice name. She was a Husky, just like my disobedient dog.

"Dixie?" I heard a girl's voice coming closer and sounding panicked. "Where did you go? You know I hate the dark."

"She's over here!" I yelled to the figure that was passing us a few feet away. She stiffened and turned to me.

"Oh, baby!" The girl cried out and rushed to us, hugging her dog. I had managed to put the leash back on Spot. "Thank you!" She turned to me and hugged me too.

"It's alright. He left my side and it took me almost half an hour to find him," I explained. Spot circled me and went to Dixie, sniffing her.

"We're going home, Spot," I ordered. I took a step back and lost my equilibrium since I was wrapped in his leash, again. I managed to right myself this time, but when he ran after the other dog, playing, I fell. In the water.

I resurfaced, sputtering and moving my hair out of my eyes. "You're dead," I hissed and jumped on the ground.

Laughter attracted my attention to Dixie's owner. The girl was doubling over.

"I don't see anything funny," I grumbled and took my phone from my pocket, water dripping from it. Perfect.

"Is your name Roger, too?" she asked, amused. So I had been right. The owner of the Dalmatian was named Roger.

"Actually, I'm Edward," I offered, and extended her my hand.

"Bella," she said with a small smile. "Are there going to be one hundred and one Huskies?" she asked, giggling.

"God no! He is enough!" I exclaimed, shaking my head to dry my hair.

Somehow, we ended up leaving together, and I decided to be a gentleman and walk her home.

We were approaching my street and my block. Was it possible that she lived so close by? She was a charming girl, and I was captivated by her every word. She had just moved to Woodstock, New York from sunny Florida where she had studied Art. She loved the quiet town, and she insisted that she had been born two decades too late.

"We're here," Bella said after a few more minutes.

I looked around and chuckled. She was in front of my house. I was living on only one floor; the other hadn't been rented … until now, apparently. How had I missed that I was living with her? The kitchen and living room were a common area.

"What's so funny?"

"Have you met your house mate?" I asked conversationally.

"Not yet."

"I bet you have," I said, still laughing.

"How would you know that?"

"You're talking to him," I pointed out.

"It's you?" she asked, surprised. I nodded.

We grinned and started walking toward the door. This was going to be interesting.