Marly

Today, 13:05

Marly

Have you heard about Stravawankers on Instagram?

Ilya

...

Ilya

Porn on Strava? And it’s advertised on Instagram?

Marly

No! It’s people posting ridiculous activities on Strava. Like someone recorded their walk down the aisle. A chick recorded giving birth as a workout

Ilya

That is a fucking workout.

Marly

No shit. Strava should have a category for it.

Marly

But I wanna be featured on the Instagram page.

Ilya

Of course you do.

Marly

It would be funny.

Marly

You know that people can see when you like posts on Instagram, right?

Marly

And that I know your burner account name?

Marly

You want in, don't you?

Ilya

Obviously.

Ilya

Wait, are you still talking to that Strava girl?

Marly

Yeah!

Marly

It’s really easy to text to her. She’s super into fitness so we’ve just been talking about that. I’m picking up some tricks from her!

Ilya

Never too late for an old dog to learn something new

Marly

stfu

Ilya

😉

Marly

Today, 15:23

Marly

Hey

Ilya

Did you get featured?

Marly

Sadly, no

Ilya

Phew, still a chance for me to beat you

Marly

But remember how I'm talking to Strava girl?

Ilya

Yes

Marly

I asked her out on a date... so I'm flying into Montreal in two days.

Ilya

All for a date?

Marly

She's really cool! And the way she texts about rock climbing is super intense and inspiring.

Ilya

Okay, okay, enough.

Ilya

Do you need a place to crash?

Marly

Roz, I'm here for a date, remember?

Ilya

Right

Ilya

But you should still hang out with Anya, Shane, and me when you're not on the date.

Ilya

Anya needs to watch the rest of the Fast and Furious movies.

Marly

That sounds great!

Marly

But… I kinda need your help the day before the date.

Marly

Do you know how to rock climb?

Ilya

Oh fuck, what did you agree to?

Marly

Please take this class with me so I don’t look like a fool in front of my date

Ilya

fuck

Ilya

okay yes

Ilya

I will take class with you

Ilya

How hard could it be?

The last time Cliff felt this wiped out from a workout, he had a 102 degree fever and fell off the treadmill in the Raider’s training facility. He was rushed to the emergency room and still got shit from Ilya as he was strapped to the board. Even now, the fever dreams and sweats were nothing compared to his current soreness.

At least he still had Ilya sprouting out nonsensical shit.

Cliff’s entire forearms felt like they were on fire. He was grateful that Ilya had driven them to the gym, clutching a steering wheel sounded like an extra workout. His upper back was also sore, which, okay, made sense with the belaying and climbing. Yet, he also knew that he would wake up tomorrow morning to discover more sore areas.

Thankfully, Ilya was just as wrecked, sprawled besides him on the couch while Shane went to fetch them glasses of water. The chalk from climbing was still smeared on Ilya’s cheek and his hair was an absolute frizzy mess.

“You two are professional athletes. How the hell did rock climbing take you out so bad?” Shane asked, incredulously, carrying the drinks into the room. As he got closer, Ilya reached for a glass, winced, and dropped his arms. He patiently waited for Shane to set it down, then grabbed the glass and gulped it noisily.

“Thank you,” Cliff muttered as he reached forward for his glass. He gritted his teeth as he gripped the glass and brought it to his lips.

He was fucked.

“Is it that hard of a workout? You two are strong! And now you can barely lift a glass of water!” Shane said, exasperatedly, dropping into the armchair across from them. Anya trotted into the living room, jumped onto Ilya, and rested her head on his lap. Ilya placed a hand on her head. Instead of scratching, he merely patted her, earning a glare from her.

“Anya, I’m so tired, I can barely pet you moy lyubimyy,” Ilya apologized, but Anya, dissatisfied, hopped off and wandered over to Shane. She quickly hopped on his lap and curled into a ball. Ilya pouted at them. Shane tilted his head, mouthed “sorry”, and scratched behind her ears.

“The internet said you should be using mostly your legs. Did you do that? Did the instructor tell you that?” Shane asked, still doting on Anya.

Ilya barked out a laugh. Cliff chuckled, shaking his head. Ilya looked over at him, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the statement.

Their instructor told them a thousand things. Most of the class had been focused on how to do safety checks, how to belay, and how to tie knots. Cliff vaguely remembered some helpful tips about climbing, but he and Ilya had been too busy scheming on how they would race each other up the wall.

“What did I tell you, Marly? Huh? Shane was going to come to us with something as ridiculous as logic,” Ilya said teasingly, giving Cliff a wink. Shane looked utterly confused, frowning as he waited for the remaining lecture.

“Shane, moy lyubimyy, the holds for the feet are tiny. Perfect for Anya’s small feet, not for me and Cliff. And we were wearing shoes that are too tight–”

“You size up–”

Ilya let out a groan, cutting Shane off. “Shane, they’re supposed to be tight. Supposed to help with foot placement, which would be great if I had the skill of a ballerina balancing on my tippy-toes,” Ilya said loudly, gesturing to his feet that were propped on the table.

Cliff noted the matching socks, a far cry from the Boston days when Ilya showed up in mismatched socks with holes in the toes and heels. Cliff glanced at his own feet and wiggled his toes. His socks were different shades of grey.

He wondered what it would be like to have someone care about his socks.

Shane frowned, looking between Ilya and Cliff.

“I don’t get it, how was this hard? Did you even climb a 5.14?” Shane pressed as Ilya howled with laughter. Cliff buried his head in his hands, snorting, and letting Ilya take the lead.

“First,” Ilya leaned forward on his elbows that rested on his knees, pointing at Shane. Shane, clearly used to the dramatics, merely blinked. “The scale goes up to 5.15. Very rude to assume your boyfriend can’t climb that–”

Shane rolled his eyes so far back, Cliff figured they would get stuck.

“You just said–”

“Second,” Ilya threw out another finger, cocking his head with the same lopsided smirk that charmed most of Boston and got him suckerpunched by the rest. “We climbed up to a 5.10D and that was hard enough. Only ballerinas could do what we did today–”

“And that eight year old kid who just lapped us with every route,” Cliff said, reaching forward for his water again.

It was humiliating. Cliff had attempted the route and fell. Then Ilya fell three times off of it before getting Cliff to lower him down. Then, a scrawny eight-year old scampered up it like it was nothing… Well, Cliff saw red and Ilya muttered a lot of words in Russian that Cliff knew were cussing the kid out.

“An eight year old climbed a route and you couldn’t?” Shane asked, doing little to hide the judgment in his voice. Ilya frantically shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Ah, no, I looked this up. I knew Marly was going to blab and you’d ask. Okay, Google says it has to do with their center of gravity. Not my fault I’m a grown man!” Ilya said defensively, leaning back into the couch and puffing out his breath then turned to Cliff.

“Can you change the date to something else? Top roping again tomorrow might kill you. I’m being serious, okay? I’m dying just thinking about you climbing again tomorrow–”

“Stop being a baby, I’m going to get you two something,” Shane muttered, setting Anya down and getting up. Anya followed him dutifully as their footsteps echoed out of the room.

Cliff shook his head, pulling out his phone to reread the messages, looking for any loophole. His Strava date was pretty adamant on going climbing, convinced it was the perfect first date.

Which, after today, Cliff could list out a million better first dates. Preferably one with a beverage–coffee, beer, milkshake–and lots of laughter.

He could only hope for the latter.

“It has to be a top roping date. Look, it’ll be fine, I’ll rest up tonight,” he tried to reassure Ilya, but Ilya muttered under his breath as he reached for his glass again. He tilted his head side to side, and Cliff could practically hear the thoughts. He waited as Ilya drowned the last of his water, then slammed the glass on the table.

Ilya shifted, draping an arm over the back of the sofa and he was staring at Cliff with an intensity that matched game day.

“If you want, I can call you, pretend I need you for a hockey emergency. She doesn’t know hockey, right? I can dress up as a babushka and then you have to reschedule the date–”

“We cannot resurrect Rozzy the babushka again. Last time was the last time, especially after you got mahjong pieces thrown at you! You got a black eye!”

Ilya raised his hands and looked around, as if trying to see what was the issue. “But you got out of the date, did you not?” Cliff rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

“Okay, fine, if not Babushka Rozzy, Shane can come in with an emergency.”

Cliff snorted, craning his neck behind the sofa to see if he could spot Shane or hear him.

”What, like Sobo Shane? I don’t think Hollander approves of our alter-egos,” Cliff said, raising his eyebrows at Ilya, who swatted his hand in the air.

“Okay, yes, Sobo Shane would not be as good as Grandma Marly, but maybe he can do something else?” Ilya bit his lip, clearly thinking. “We can workshop something tonight, and then he can come and save you to reschedule the date–”

Cliff placed a hand on Ilya’s arm, “Roz, it’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be better tomorrow and it’ll be way easier, you know? I actually know what I’m doing now and I can safely belay her. I hear the key to a good date is keeping them alive.”

Ilya gave him a small smile that looked closer to a grimace. Anya barreled into the room, looking over at Shane as he came back holding a theragun in each hand.

“You can use these on your forearms, and that should help,” Shane said, handing over the massage guns to each of them. Ilya whispered “Spasibo” under his breath.

Cliff didn’t need to be told twice. Neither did Ilya, as they both started using the massage guns on their forearms. Cliff let out a grunt, the kind he only let lovers and massage therapists hear, while Ilya practically whimpered as the gun worked over his arms.

“You two… sound like you need a room,” Shane said, frowning at them. Even Anya had her ears pinned back and looked up at Shane in distress.

“Reminds me, I heard the best line at the gym today,” Cliff said, turning to Ilya, who wore a lazy smile.

“Tell me.”

“Just spread your legs and trust the rubber,” Cliff said in a sing-song voice and Ilya snickered, then broke into full laughter. Shane just looked even more confused, staring between them.

“What? How is that a thing?” Shane asked, turning to Ilya, who reluctantly switched off his massage gun and sighed loudly.

“When a man and a woman decide to have sex but don’t want-” Shane chucked a throw pillow at Ilya’s face. It ricocheted off of his face and it fell silently to the ground. Ilya blinked, looked dumbly down at the pillow, then threw an annoyed glance at Shane.

Shane merely raised his eyebrows.

“You should have swatted that. Looks like you’re getting slow,” Shane said smugly, leaning back with his hands behind his head.

Ilya rolled his eyes, “Okay, yes, point to Hollander. But the climbing shoes have rubber, and there are some climbs where you basically have to do splits and all these stretches–”

“So like Yoga on the wall?” Shane said, brightening up and looking at Ilya with such excitement. Ilya narrowed his eyes, then gave a curt nod, his lips curved upwards.

Cliff ducked his head to hide a smile. He could see the gears turning in Ilya’s head. Cliff couldn’t translate Russian, other than the swear words Ilya taught him, but he could translate Ilya’s side of the silent conversation. All he needed was Hayden for Shane’s side.

“Okay, yes, we can go tomorrow,” Ilya said, and Shane beamed, clapping his hands together.

“But back to this super funny joke–”

“If you have to explain it, is it really funny?”

Ilya scoffed at Shane. “Well, did you get the joke?”

“I mean, yeah, after you explained it–”

“Yeah, after–”

“I didn’t say it was funny!” Shane snapped. Ilya placed a hand on his chest. He groaned dramatically and leaned back into the sofa.

“You wound me, Shane. It is fucking hilarious. That’s why Marly is best bud and you’re just best friend.”

Cliff lifted his fist for a bump; they mimed an explosion afterwards. Shane shook his head and got up from his armchair.

“I’m going to start making the spaghetti,” he said, leaning over to kiss Ilya’s forehead. Ilya hummed happily, closing his eyes as a small blush crept across his cheeks.

Cliff had to look away, grimacing as jealousy tightened in his chest. Once Shane walked away, he turned to Ilya.

“He’s great, you should marry him,” Cliff said, jerking his head towards the kitchen.

“Ehn, he’s okay,” Ilya said with his typical shit-eating smirk as Shane shouted down the hallway.

“I heard that Rozanov!”

“I know moy lyubimyy!” Ilya shouted back. He sighed, readjusting on the couch as he turned to Cliff.

“I fucking love that man. He has my whole entire heart. It’s insane,” Ilya whispered, then paused before yelling, “Did you hear that Hollander?”

Kitchen cabinets slammed and pots rattled in the background. “Hear what?”

Ilya slapped his thighs and got up, heading to the kitchen, “Unbelievable. You only listen to the mean things I say, never the nice things I say behind your back!”

“You can tell me to my face!”

“Why do you think I’m coming to the kitchen!” Ilya yelled back. Cliff smiled as Anya hopped on the couch beside him. Her tail wagged as Cliff scratched behind her ear.

“Don’t worry, that’ll be me and Strava girl soon enough,” he whispered, ignoring the unease in his chest.

On the way to the date, Cliff clenched his jaw, staring out the taxi window as the streets of Montreal passed him. He tried to relax into the seat, turning up his music, hoping it would untangle the knot in his stomach.

It had been a while since Cliff went on a date that made him nervous. The type of date where his heart was racing, his mind running through all the worst case scenarios. Maybe it was that everyone around him was partnered up, like kids in gym class, and he was the last one standing wondering if any team would even want him.

He swore under his breath as his playlist skipped to the next song, and instead went back to the last song and put it on repeat. He sighed, leaning back as the buildings started to look familiar. He was close.

Once the car stopped, he quickly got out, and walked through the doors of the musty gym. He made a beeline to the front desk. His date had offered him a guest pass, but he preferred to support the gym. He could afford the day pass and she could save the guest pass for someone else.

After grabbing the rented harness and shoes, he dumped his bags into the locker rooms. While the climbing walls and the gym equipment were well maintained, the lockers still required you bring in your own lock. It was silly, but he always got a little excited using an old school lock, especially his bright purple one that he’d had for over a decade.

He left the locker room and sat on a bench near the wall. He pulled on his harness, checking it sat above his waist and was double-backed before moving to his shoes. As he fastened the last velcro strap, he realized he might look too eager, fully geared up before she even arrived. But he shrugged it off, he’d seen this girl’s Strava. She seemed very intense about her workouts.

He glanced down at his watch and saw that he still had a few minutes before she was supposed to arrive. He leaned back against the wall and craned his neck up to see all the different routes. It was impressive to watch climbers of all ages scale the wall. There was a couple in particular who had matching white hair and muscles Cliff could only hoped to have a fraction of in twenty years.

He watched the pair climb up the wall, held his breath at the jumps between holds, at the moment the climber’s leg shook with exertion… only for them to make it to the top. Cliff had to stop himself from applauding as the climber was lowered down. Their belayer shouted compliments as the climber blushed all the way down.

Maybe he could have that one day.

His phone buzzed. He fished it out and frowned at the screen. It was already five past their set meeting time and the message said she was leaving her place in a bit.

Cliff texted her back not to worry, that he was just walking in, and set his phone to the side as he kept watching climbers take on different routes.

Fifteen minutes after her text, he stared at his phone and willed it to light up with a message from her.

Instead, it stayed dark. Cliff could practically hear the crickets.

Huffing, he grabbed his phone and moved closer to the front desk area so he could spot her when she came through. As he was walking, he opened his text threads, hoping to prompt a reply.

Instead, his group chats had exploded from two unread messages to nearly a hundred. Cliff sighed, running his hand through his hair as he scrolled through the messages, trying to remember when he’d left off, tracking the different reactions, and scanning to see if any were important–

He crashed into someone, spilling a bright pink drink all over their white T-shirt. Cliff smelled the sticky-sweet pink lemonade scent and let out a sound of disgust—who the fuck drinks this shit anymore—and looked up to find his date glaring at him, adjusting her grip on her now-empty cup.

His stomach dropped as she gasped at the front of her shirt.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Here, let me get you a towel,” he told her, and hurried past her to grab a towel, then came back with the fluffiest one he could find. She grabbed the towel, mumbled thanks as she started dabbing at her shirt.

She looked over at Cliff and wrinkled her nose.

“Where’s your harness and shoes? Did you leave them in Boston? The rentals are just so gross, like how do people use them?” she asked, slinging the towel over her shoulder, huffing out a laugh.

Cliff looked down at his outfit, suddenly self-conscious of the gym-branded gear.

“Uh, no. Just started climbing, so I’ve been renting gear. Figured I’d get an understanding of what I like before I go all in, you know?” he said, grinning. She smiled back, but it looked unkind as her gaze swept over him.

Cliff swallowed, his palms breaking out in a sweat.

He should have asked for Babushka Rozzy.

Cliff rested his forehead against the front door wondering if it was possible to be swallowed whole by the ground. If he was smarter, he would have lied to Rozzy about the date once it was done, he wouldn’t have blabbed and he could have iced his bruised ego in private.

Cliff sighed as he pulled his head back and stared down at the keypad. He punched in the code for Shane and Ilya’s house, grateful to hear Anya sniff at the door before frantically pawing at it. Cliff opened the door and Anya jumped on him. Her tail wagged as he bent down to pet her. Somehow, he managed to squeeze inside, drop his bag, and sit against the door while Anya licked his face.

“Ah, Anya, no!” Shane’s voice cut through and Anya turned to look at him, guilty.

“It’s okay, I let her. Yell at me,” Cliff said tiredly as he stood, and Shane looked between them. His face was pinched with concern, and Cliff realized that Ilya had spilled the beans.

He should be used to his friends telling their partners by now.

“We’re trying to train her–sorry, I should’ve just let her be,” Shane said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cliff gave Shane a small smile. Might as well put him out of his misery. “Don’t worry, Shane, I’m well aware that anything I text Rozzy gets back to you. Besides, I haven’t even shared the worst of it.” Cliff bent down to untie his shoes, then followed Shane into the living room. Ilya walked in seconds later, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Okay, you said there was more in the text. But I don’t know how it could be worse,” Ilya said, flopping onto the couch beside Cliff while Shane sat across from them.

“Showing up fifteen minutes late is wild. I would’ve left,” Shane said, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

“I would have left after she made fun of the gear. She knew you just started climbing,” Ilya said, shaking his head before biting at his thumbnail as he looked over at Cliff.

Cliff grimaced, knowing how outraged Ilya and Shane would be in just a few minutes.

“I should have left after she left me on the wall for minutes.” Shane’s jaw dropped and Ilya clenched his jaw, his eye twitching. “She refused to lower me down until she thought I’d put ‘more effort’ into the climb,” Cliff said, rubbing his face.

Ilya muttered in Russian under his breath. Cliff was sure he heard some nasty words, as Shane shifted in his seat. “You still climbed with her after that?” Shane asked quietly and Cliff nodded, lifting his head from his hands. Shane was biting his lower lip and Ilya was sitting up straighter.

“I did tell her not to leave me on the wall if I asked to come down. That I thought it was condescending as fuck to do that… and she agreed not to do it. But she didn’t apologize, and then shouted all the things I was doing wrong during my climbs like not putting enough weight on one foot or being stupid for grabbing a foothold versus a handhold–”

“Is there a difference?” Shane asked looking over to Ilya who shrugged his shoulders before lifting a finger to his lips and pointing to Cliff. Shane raised his hands in apology.

Cliff looked over at Shane, happy to stall before hitting the final nail in the coffin. “There is, and I got an earful about it. Something about how you should look for chalk patterns and scuff marks? I don’t know, at that point I was just done. But she didn’t want to stop climbing so I belayed her for a few more routes–”

“Cliff!” Ilya hissed, fists tightening by his side.

Cliff let his shoulders slump, an argument he and Ilya had a thousand times. “I know, I know, but she really pushed for me to belay even when I said I had to go to meet you two.”

“Okay, so then how did you escape this date from hell?” Ilya snapped.

Cliff let out a bitter laugh. “She tired herself out. Literally. And then she shook my hand, told me we wouldn’t work out because she needed a boyfriend who could climb and wasn’t so sensitive. She even unfollowed me on Strava and blocked me. Same with the rest of the apps,” Cliff said, feeling slightly dazed.

He’s had bad dates. He’s had girlfriends who blocked him. Hell, he’d done it too. But it had been a while since he reached for the premature block and delete method. It was a shock to have a date go so poorly after all the texting between them.

It was a shitty-as-fuck feeling.

Anya trotted to where they were all sitting. She wagged her tail, bared some of her teeth, and growled at them. Cliff looked over at Ilya, unaware Anya could growl with how sweet she usually was. Ilya slapped his hand to his face and Shane swore in French. They both turned to Cliff guiltily.

“Sorry, she usually goes for a long walk, but since we slept in and went climbing late this morning, she’s grouchy,” Ilya explained, gesturing towards Anya, whose tail stilled. Ilya grinned at her, “Here, I can take her out.” Ilya stood up and Anya sprinted out of the room.

“Shane, can you start dinner? Cliff, you can keep him company, drink some beer,” Ilya said and Shane nodded, giving Cliff a grin.

Cliff liked Shane. Hell, he could easily drink with him and swap hockey stories or shit on Ilya. But right now, he could barely muster enough small talk to escape the humiliating flashes of his date. Hell, even if it was Ilya staying behind, Cliff would still want to stare at a wall, and that would drive Ilya insane.

“Can I take her for a walk? Might be nice to clear my head,” Cliff asked, standing up quickly. Ilya tsked, shaking his head.

“No, Marly, you’re a guest! Look, you can just relax here, you can play on the PS5–”

“Ilya,” Cliff cut him off, and Ilya shut up quickly. “I could really use a walk right now. You’d be doing me a solid by letting me walk Anya,” Cliff pressed. Ilya glanced towards the hallway, then back at Cliff before nodding.

“Sure, let me make sure to get her treat bag with some poop-bags,” Ilya muttered, and Cliff followed him into the hallway where Anya was pacing in circles. She kept shooting them annoyed looks as Ilya pulled down the items. Anya started whining at them.

“I know, I know, Anya. Forgive me, Cliff is going to take you on a walk. A nice long walk and then we’ll all watch Fast and Furious because you’re behind, my girl. And that’s not good,” Ilya said to Anya, while Cliff clipped the treat bag to his waist and stuffed the bags in his pocket.

“Thanks man for letting me take her out,” Cliff said, patting Ilya on the back. Ilya smacked him harder in return. Cliff rolled his eyes at Ilya’s smirk.

“Of course. Now I can make sure Shane cooks us real food. None of his healthy stuff. At least your bad date gives me an excuse to convince him to stray away from the diet,” Ilya said, crossing his arms.

Anya barked, and Cliff quickly bent down to clip the leash on her collar.

“You can tell who runs this house… it’s neither me nor Shane,” Ilya joked, scratching the back of his neck.

“She’s a queen, of course she runs circles around you two. You typically take her out for an hour?” Cliff asked. Ilya’s eyebrows shot up.

“I mean, she’d love an hour. Usually half an hour, but go out as long as you want. She loves going to the dog park a few blocks down the street. Just turn right when you leave the driveway,” Ilya said, leaning over to open the door. Anya immediately sprinted as far as the leash allowed.

“See you!” Cliff called over his shoulder as he tumbled out of the house, Anya tugging on the leash.

As soon as they hit the pavement, Anya scampered around his feet, barking as they headed down the street. Cliff took a deep breath, thankful that he was outside and had Anya as company. Ilya must have rubbed off on him–he’d started talking to Anya like she could answer.

“Oh, you know we’re going to the dog park. You may need to lead the way,” Cliff told Anya, who sneezed at him before trotting on ahead.

They silently walked down the street, pausing every few minutes so she could sniff patches of grass or inspect sticks. Nothing held Anya’s attention for long before she lifted her nose and kept walking.

Cliff chuckled and secretly hoped he could get a photo of her with a stick twice her size. Rozzy always sent him those photos and it never failed to crack Cliff up. He could use a laugh right now.

The next time Anya buried her snout into a patch of grass, practically snorting, Cliff jammed a hand into his pocket for his AirPods. He was so focused on grabbing the case and keeping an eye on Anya that he nearly missed the corgi barrelling into view. The corgi crouched low in front of Anya.

Cliff stiffened as Anya mirrored the stance, both tails wagging. In a flash, the two dogs were playing. They were barking and chasing each other around Cliff, a blur of fur as he tried to keep track of Anya.

“STEVE!” cried out a high-pitched voice, and for a second, the dogs paused. The corgi cocked its head to the side before deciding to ignore her. Anya continued to sprint, yelping as she hit the end of her leash. Cliff tried to untangle himself, but there were two leashes that had tied his legs firmly together and both dogs were barking at him as if it were his fault.

“Steve– Oh my God!” the voice said again, and this time, Cliff finally found himself face-to-face with a blonde woman staring in horror at the tangled leashes. Cliff glanced between the happy corgi and the distressed woman.

“Uh, I take it that the corgi’s yours?” Cliff offered, laughing as the woman groaned loudly. She dramatically stomped her foot as she stepped towards him.

“Yes, Miss Steve is mine and is being such a little B!” the woman wailed before dropping to her knees and looked around Cliff’s legs to find where each of their leashes were tangled. Cliff looked up at the blue sky, focusing on the clouds and biting down hard on his tongue.

He’d already gotten in enough trouble today.

Steve tried to run to her owner, only to be stopped short by the tangled leash. Steve turned to Cliff and growled. Cliff snapped his head down just in time to catch her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Cliff controlled his breathing as she kept placing her hands delicately on his calves. “Oh my God, this is all your fault Steve! Stop being mean to this innocent man!” she whispered to her dog as she untangled the leashes.

Fuck it.

“Don’t think I would call myself innocent,” Cliff said, the words tumbling out before he realized how bad they sounded.

The woman paused and looked up from her crouched position. She grinned up at Cliff, bringing a hand to shield her eyes from the sun above. “Whenever Steve is involved… trust me, she’s the bigger troublemaker. It’d take a hell of a lot for you to outdo her.”

Cliff bit his bottom lip, letting out a relieved sigh as she stood up. Cliff felt his heart stop for a second.

She was pretty.

She had a wide smile on her face, and Cliff found himself distracted by her slightly crooked teeth, the front two overlapping. Her hair was pulled into a low side bun, wisps escaping to frame her face. She stuck out her hand.

“I’m Juliet, Steve’s owner,” she said confidently, and Cliff, still a little dazed, shook her hand.

He noticed there was no ring on either hand.

“Cliff. More like Uncle Cliff to Anya, taking her out for a walk while her owners cook dinner,” he said, and Juliet beamed at him.

“Well, sorry about Steve! She was cooped up today and I didn’t take her out earlier like I usually do. We’re just on our way to the dog park, though–”

“Same. Us too,” Cliff said hurriedly, pointing to him and Anya.

“That’s great! Seems like Anya and Steve really hit it off. I’m sure they can tire each other out a lot faster than we can with a simple walk,” she said, falling into step beside Cliff as they walked down the street.

“I don’t know, Anya usually walks practically a gazillion steps a day. Her owners are neurotic about tracking that stuff on that smart collar thing? I don’t think she’s hit her steps today,” Cliff said as Anya tugged on the leash.

“Oh, the Fi collars? Steve has one too,” Juliet said, pointing over to her dog. “To be honest though, I only really check the stats of that when I’m traveling and she’s with her dog sitter. Her dog sitter is a huge runner so it’s wild to see how many steps Steve gets in with her little legs,” Juliet said, laughing at herself and then snorting.

She turned to Cliff, her eyes wide as she covered her mouth. Cliff threw his head back and laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard a snort and thought it was so fucking charming.

“I’m a bit all over the place today, sorry,” she said, shrugging a shoulder before blushing, a tight smile tugging at her mouth.

“Any particular reason?” Cliff asked as they crossed the street. He snuck a glance at her, watching as she twirled a strand of her hair.

“I just got back from a work trip, so I’m a little out of it. And I went on a first date today that was just… terrible. Well, I don’t know if I can call it a first date,” she said, frowning down at the ground.

Misery loves company and so do bad dates in Montreal.

“Why would you say that? If it was a bad first date, you can call it what it is,” Cliff said, scratching his nose as he watched the dogs trot beside each other.

“Even if you got stood up?”

Cliff sucked in his breath and snapped his head at Juliet. She grimaced at his look and quickly turned her head forward, tucking her hair behind her ear again, as they crossed the street.

“Who the fuck is dumb enough to do that?” Cliff asked, annoyed, tightening his grip on his leash.

Juliet shrugged in his peripheral vision. “Some guy named Brad from Bumble,” she muttered as they crossed into the dog park where there were several other dogs playing around them. Cliff bent down to undo the leash of Anya and as soon as Steve was free, they started running after each other, circling the entire park.

“Brad sounds like an idiot. How long did you wait?” He winced. The irony of the question wasn’t lost on him.

Juliet tilted her head from side to side, pursing her lips in a tight line. “Twenty minutes,” she confessed and Cliff bit down on his tongue.

“I know, I should have left earlier. But then I texted him, and he claimed he had told me that we agreed to meet tomorrow and that I must have been confused…” at this, Juliet’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed over at the dogs. “And he didn’t exactly love it when I sent him a screenshot proving we were supposed to meet today,” Juliet she said, her lip curling in annoyance. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Cliff had a feeling he was going to be demanding enough details to go punch Brad by the end of this story.

“He then started writing horrible stuff about me, my intelligence, my looks, and went in on my teeth–”

“Your teeth are cute, I like ‘em,” Cliff said immediately, kicking himself for not taking a second to think before commenting.

What woman wants compliments on her teeth?

Juliet rolled her eyes, shaking her head as if she heard that line a thousand times before. “Ha. Easy for you to say Mister Pearly Straight Whites–”

“It’s actually Mister Fake Teeth From Getting Them Knocked Out So Much,” Cliff said, winking at her as she looked up in shock and stared at his teeth, leaning forward. Cliff almost took a step back with how close she stood inspecting his mouth.

He felt his heart race, not minding how close she was to him.

“What happened?”

“Hazards of the job,” Cliff said as she stepped back. Cliff shifted his weight, doing the mental math. She clearly didn’t recognize him. He tried not to think about the fact that she’d probably recognize Shane or Rozzy instantly.

“I play hockey. Professionally. In the NHL,” Cliff rambled, gesturing with every descriptor as Juliet smiled.

“Oh, so you play for the Voyageurs?” she asked kindly, as if he told her that he worked at a corporate job.

Cliff shook his head, reining in the disgust on his face. Nothing wrong with the team, but it sure as hell wasn’t Boston. Still, he had to be polite. He was in Canada after all.

“I’m visiting friends here. I play for the team in Boston.”

“Oh! The Boston Bruins!” she said enthusiastically and so confidently that Cliff laughed.

“The Boston Raiders. Close though,” he said as she turned bright red.

“Is it obvious I don’t watch a ton of hockey? It’s like, a mortal sin in Canada to not watch hockey,” she whispered to Cliff, her cheeks still bright red as Cliff bent his head low to listen.

“Your secret is safe with me, Juliet,” Cliff whispered back, placing a hand on his heart. She smiled again, showing off some of her teeth.

Juliet cleared her throat, her eyes out on the dogs. “I visit Boston a lot though for work. It’s a really nice city.”

“Oh? What do you do for work?”

“I work in sales, and they’re headquartered in Boston. I moved to Canada a few years ago, and the company was more than happy to let me work remotely. I do love my Boston time though,” she said wistfully, letting her arms swing by her side.

“Would you ever move?” Cliff asked, keeping his eyes on Anya as she and Steve started engaging with the other dogs.

Juliet pursed her lips and shrugged. “Maybe. I’m a big believer of never say never,” she said casually as she looked over to Cliff. A breeze came through, blowing loose strands into her face before she tucked them back into place.

They stood in silence as they watched their dogs play. Anya and Steve were natural leaders in the park, other dogs of all sizes swarming over to sniff and run with them. Despite it all, Cliff noted that the dogs would look up and scan for their owners (or, in Anya’s case, uncle) before fully devoting themselves to playing.

Cliff sucked in a breath and Juliet snapped her head at him, eyebrows raised quizzically. “I just have to say this… fuck Brad. He sounds like a real fucking asshole.” Juliet sputtered out a laugh, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

“He sure is. Had to block him and everything on the app. Great day for love,” Juliet muttered, kicking at the grass, looking downtrodden.

Cliff couldn’t have that.

“Well, if it makes you feel better… I also had a bad first date today,” Cliff said, and Juliet snapped her head back up.

“How does a pro athlete have bad first dates? Is that even allowed in the universe?”

Cliff’s lips twitched to a smile. “Not sure athletics have anything to do with love karma. Wish it did.”

“So, what happened on this date?” Juliet asked, elongating the “so.”

Cliff sighed, running a hand through his hair, “My date decided we should go to a rock climbing gym as a first date–”

“That sounds awful! No offense,” she added weakly, grimacing. Cliff shook his head, grinning at her.

“None taken. I should have said no, because it was really fucking awful. She showed up fifteen minutes late with no text–”

“Annoying, but okay, could be overlooked, right?” Juliet cut in and Cliff winced.

“But in trying to contact her, I accidentally ran into her and made her spill her pink lemonade all over her white T-shirt.” Juliet gasped, turning fully to Cliff, her hands touching her temples.

“No!”

“Yes. And it only gets worse,” Cliff said dramatically, enjoying how Juliet reacted to every beat of his story. It was fun, almost making him thankful for his terrible date.

“How?” Juliet gaped at Cliff.

“Well, she spent the rest of the time making fun of my rented gear, how I climbed, and then shook my hand at the end of it,” Cliff said, biting his lip as he stared at Juliet.

Juliet pulled her lips in, her cheeks flushing, before she burst out laughing. She clutched her stomach, snorting twice. Cliff raised his eyebrows at her, and she tried her best to stop.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, that sounds awful! But oh my God, that is bad!” she wiped the tears that had gathered out of her eyes, smudging some of her eyeliner.

“Told you, bad date. Can even happen to pro athletes.”

“They’re just like us!” she chimed, and Cliff laughed along. The dogs came wandering back over to them, panting heavily.

“Did you have a good run, Miss Steve? Did you and Anya race?” Juliet asked, crouching low and petting Steve’s head. Steve rolled onto her back, staring up at Juliet.

“Oh, I bet they both tied for first. They seem like the diplomatic type, right?” Cliff said as Anya sat on Cliff’s feet, surveying the park.

“Hm, Steve is a little B so I wouldn’t put it past her to cheat. What’s Anya like?” Juliet tipped her chin towards Anya.

Cliff snorted. “Her owners are competitive little fuckers. Everyone is hoping they didn’t pass that genetic trait down to their dog,” Cliff said, flashing back to race day.

“How long have you known the owners for?” Juliet asked as she pulled out a water bottle that twisted into a bowl for Steve.

“So, I’ve known both of them for over a decade. Similar circles and all, but I used to play with Ilya. He’s like a brother to me since we played together on the Boston Bruins,” Juliet looked up at him and rolled her eyes at his smirk. Steve went back to a lounging position as Juliet leaned over to let Anya drink some water.

Cliff’s heart did a skip, touched that she was willing to share water with Anya.

“Thank you, her, uh, owners didn’t give me water,” Cliff mumbled, as Juliet waved him off, smiling at Anya as she lapped up the water.

“Do you visit them often?” she asked, standing up and slipping the bottle back into her bag.

Cliff shrugged, “We all travel a ton for games. So we see each other a fair amount. In the summer, sure, we’ll make trips here and there.”

They stared out for a bit as the dogs quickly darted back into the park to play. Cliff sniffed, kicking at the grass beneath his feet as he tried to think of anything reasonable to ask Juliet.

“So, athletes are pretty superstitious, right? Like wearing the same underwear or whatever?” Juliet asked, cutting through the dumb questions in Cliff’s mind.

Cliff raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head to the side as Juliet looked up at him, shifting her weight until one hip popped out.

“Does that mean you have a first date ritual you follow?” she asked, and Cliff let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. Well, spat out the breath was more accurate.

“Uh, yeah. I try to hype myself up with a song before every date. But that’s normal, right?” Cliff asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“I mean, I do it. I have a friend who does it, three people make it normal, right?” Juliet mused, shifting her weight to her other leg.

“Exactly. But that’s as far as I go. No lucky underwear for me,” Cliff said, winking at Juliet.

“So, what’s the song?” Juliet asked, and Cliff felt his cheeks burn up. Juliet let out a scoff, “Now you have to tell me.”

“It’s… cheesy,” Cliff said, biting on his tongue.

No one had ever asked him that before. He didn’t think anyone ever would. Maybe he mentioned it in passing, a cute anecdote to whoever he was dating. But never laid out his cards so cleanly for someone to examine.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Juliet said quietly. Cliff looked down, liking how the sun caught in her hair, bringing out the highlights. She blinked, her lashes fanning across her cheeks.

“Wouldn’t it be Nice by The Beach Boys,” he said quietly, clearing his throat as she raised her eyebrows slightly.

“50 First Datesi?”

Cliff shook his head, smiling. It was the obvious answer, but still the wrong one.

“Nah, my parents had this bit with the song. My dad would sing it to my mom when she was annoyed, or she’d sing it to him to cheer up. Neither of them are good singers. Atrocious, actually,” Cliff said, sneaking a glance and finding Juliet staring at him.

“I don’t know, it was one of the staple songs in our house. My brothers and I hated the song when we were younger… but I know we all have it on various playlists. Figured it would be nice to have a bit like that with whoever I end up with,” Cliff admitted, kicking at the grass. He focused on his scuffed up sneakers and the barking of dogs.

He felt her shoulder bump against his and looked to see Juliet giving him a small smile.

“What’s yours?” Cliff asked quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Begin Again by Taylor Swift. The origin story is not as cute as yours, but… it’s something I’ve done since college. And old habits die hard, you know?” she said, and Cliff nodded to himself.

“Is there an origin story?”

Juliet shook her head, jutting out her bottom lip. “No, I just liked the song. Felt like a good reminder before a first date. I did it in college. Then after college… I just never stopped. Sometimes I forget and it’s not the end of the world. But I do like it a bit more when I listen to the song.”

Cliff nodded, looking over to see the dogs trotting back over to them. By the time the dogs reached them, Steve lay on the ground, panting, as Anya settled at Cliff’s feet.

“Think the dogs are telling us that they’re done,” Cliff said, reattaching Anya’s leash as she immediately stood to start the walk back home, at a much slower pace. Juliet did the same, but as soon as she started to walk, Steve rolled onto her back and glared at Juliet.

Juliet let her jaw drop as she sputtered, “Steve, you cannot be serious. You did this to yourself!”

Cliff had to hide his laughter behind his hand as Juliet stood, hands on hips glaring at her dog.

“What about a treat? Would that motivate you?” She asked Steve, rustling in her bag. Anya walked towards her, placing her paws on Juliet’s legs for it.

Steve merely watched.

Juliet bent down to give the treats to Anya before groaning loudly. “Miss Steve, you’re being such a little B! I really don’t want to carry you back today–”

“I can carry her. You’ll just need to hold onto Anya’s leash,” Cliff offered brightly, walking towards Steve.

Juliet flushed again, staring at Steve, willing her to stand up. Steve just craned her neck further out, as if settling down. “Oh, no, really. My dog, she’s being a little B right now. But I should carry her–”

“Juliet, I just got roasted today on my date about my strength. Carrying Steve would salvage what little ego I have left. I’m not a rock climber, but I think I can manage carrying Steve for a few blocks,” Cliff said, offering Anya’s leash towards her.

Juliet looked between Steve and Cliff, weighing her options. Her shoulders dropped, and she sighed. She grabbed onto Anya’s leash as Cliff walked over to Steve to pick her up. He shifted Steve upright, her paws resting on his shoulders so she could have a view of the park.

“You’re so lucky, Steve, that we ran into Cliff,” Juliet said, petting Steve’s back as they managed to fall back on the path towards where they first met.

Cliff readjusted his grip on Steve, frantically trying to think of ways to keep the conversation going. Or how to start another one. He swallowed and Juliet looked over at him in concern.

“Is she too heavy? I can carry her, or we can see if she’ll walk now–”

Cliff shook his head, scratching behind Steve’s ear. “She’s good. I was just, uh, wondering if you had a favorite coffee shop in this neighborhood?”

“There’s a really great one a few blocks away called The Motley. They have all these great syrups for their drinks–I’m obsessed.” Juliet gushed.

Cliff’s heart rate picked up. Screw it.

“Would you want to go get coffee with me tomorrow morning at The Motley?” Cliff asked in a rush, and Juliet stopped in her tracks, sucking a breath in.

“You’re not asking me because I gave you my sob story of a first date, are you?” she pressed, fiddling with Anya’s leash.

Cliff huffed out a breath, “I’m asking you because we had fun at the dog park. And because I had a bad first date.”

Juliet grinned, a blush spread across her cheeks. She nodded, “I’d really like that. Would 10 AM be too early?”

“Not at all,” Cliff said, setting Steve on the ground. She miraculously regained her energy and walked over to Juliet. They exchanged leashes and stood awkwardly in front of each other.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Juliet,” Cliff said, opening his arms, and Juliet stepped in to give him a quick hug. Enough time for Cliff to catch a whiff of a flowery scent before she pulled back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cliff,” she said, turning to walk down her street. She turned back to wave, and Cliff laughed as he waved back. When she turned a corner, Cliff started his walk back to the house, suddenly feeling giddy about the next morning.

“Ah, look who returns! And here I thought you may have kidnapped our dog,” Ilya’s voice boomed as Cliff entered the house. Cliff rolled his eyes as he bent down to undo Anya’s leash.

“You have my location, I know you stared at it to make sure I didn’t kidnap her,” Cliff said, walking into the kitchen where Ilya was filling up Anya’s bowl for dinner. Shane frowned at his phone, scratching at his head.

“How was the walk? Did Anya have fun?” Ilya asked, placing the bowl to the ground. He wiped his hands on his shirt and leaned back on the counter, surveying Cliff.

Cliff nodded, “She did, even made a friend on the way to the dog park. They would not stop playing.”

“I can tell, she has an insane step count,” Shane said, grinning at his phone as he typed. Ilya made eye contact with Cliff and rolled his eyes.

“Ignore him. But it would be good to know the owner. It would be nice for Anya to have play dates.”

“Should give her an edge too,” Shane said, throwing his phone on the counter and turning to the oven to check on the roasting vegetables, a whiff of roasted garlic filled the air.

Cliff bit his lip. “I can ask for the contact info tomorrow, I, uh, am going on a coffee date with the owner tomorrow morning.”

Ilya’s face broke out in a smile, and even Shane straightened in surprise.

“You fucking dog, of course you get another date. Should we pull out the vodka to celebrate?” Ilya asked, clapping his hands together. Shane nodded and headed to the freezer to get the drink as Ilya pulled out the glasses.

If it was anyone else, Cliff would insist that they stop. But it was just like Ilya, and now Shane, to celebrate the smallest victories in over-the-top ways. He made a mental note to visit them more often.

“Anya, do you approve of Cliff’s date? Did you have fun?” Ilya asked Anya, who briefly looked up from her dinner before licking the remnants of the bowl.

“Looks like a yes,” Ilya said, as he lined the glasses up on the counter. Shane came back with the vodka, opening it and carefully pouring vodka into the glasses.

“What’s the dog that Anya played with?” Ilya asked, eyeing Shane’s pour and gesturing with his hands when to stop.

“It was a corgi. Her name is Steve.”

Shane jerked the vodka bottle up quickly, leaving only a few drops in the third glass before giving Cliff a dirty look. Cliff turned to Ilya for help, only to see Ilya’s jaw open, eyes darting between Cliff and Shane.

“You asked Steve's owner out for a date tomorrow?” Shane asked slowly, his eyes twitching.

“Uh, is that a problem? Wait, she’s not like, secretly married or has a partner?” Cliff asked quickly, turning to Ilya, who quickly shook his head.

“No, uh, don’t know if she’s taken. I think Shane is reacting to–”

“So Steve is like a real dog? And she definitely ran the entire time at the dog park? Like, her owner didn’t put her in a wagon to bike around?” Shane asked, capping the vodka and setting it aside.

Cliff eyed the smaller portion of the vodka.

“Steve is a real dog,” Cliff said slowly, and Shane swore in French. Cliff looked over at Ilya, who nodded for him to continue, “She played with Anya the entire time. Uh, am I missing something?”

“Shane hates Steve because Steve always beats Anya on the Fi app segments,” Ilya explained as Shane grabbed his phone, biting his lip as he stared at the screen.

“What is it with you two and creating rivalries?”

Ilya let out a laugh as Shane shot him a look. “You even thought the stats were fake!”

“Yes, but Cliff saw with his own eyes–”

“Okay, but what about the other days?”

“Oh, Juliet has a dog sitter who’s super into Strava and Fi, so that might explain Steve’s activities,” Cliff said, shrugging.

Ilya brightened, gesturing between Shane and Cliff. “Great! We just ask Juliet for the dog sitter’s name and start beating Steve. This is great, Shane,” Ilya said, clapping a hand to Shane’s back.

“I guess,” Shane grumbled as he rubbed his face. “I can’t believe Anya befriended the enemy.”

“I know, it’s always awful when you fall in love with the enemy” Ilya cooed, as he took back the vodka to top off Cliff’s glass. Shane shot a glare at Ilya as he grabbed his glass, but within a second, his face melted into a soft look.

“Steve’s still enemy number one. For now,” Shane told Ilya sternly.

“Sure, but when Anya brings Steve to the cottage…”

“We can like her then. We have time,” Shane said, bumping his shoulder against Ilya’s. Ilya wrapped an arm around Shane, placing a kiss on his temple.

Cliff cleared his throat loudly, wanting to desperately down his drink after the day he’d had. Ilya, at the very least, had the decency to look embarrassed with a flush rising in his cheeks.

“Alright, alright, here’s to Cliff’s date with Steve’s owner. Za zdorovye!” Ilya cried out, and they all clinked their glasses together. Anya let out a bark as they downed the vodka.

The next morning, Cliff slipped in his AirPods as he made his way to the café. He listened to his song twice, of course, before scrolling through Taylor Swift and putting on Juliet’s song. He grinned along at the chorus, easily picturing her listening to it.

By the time he got to the cafe, he had five minutes to spare, so he grabbed one of the tables. He jiggled his foot and checked his pockets again for the dog treats that he had nabbed from Anya’s treat stash. Flowers for Juliet at this stage would be overkill, but Steve could have all the treats.

Just as the clock struck ten, Cliff snapped his head up to see Juliet walk through the door. She quickly tugged off her AirPods, and Cliff waved in her direction. Her face broke into a grin, and, when she walked over, Cliff quickly pulled out her chair. She paused, stared at him, breaking out in a laugh as he tucked her in.

“Did you change your playlist?” she asked as Cliff resettled down in his chair.

He flushed. “Perhaps,” he murmured as she laughed, a small snort slipping out, and Cliff couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

He had a good feeling after all.