The Dog Walker Who Knew Too Much

I wasn't supposed to be a spy. But when you're walking six dogs for minimum wage and your crush lives on the route, boundaries get blurry.

Okay, maybe I took the long way past Marcus's house. Maybe I paused to adjust my headphones whenever his bedroom light flickered on. That's not spying — that's thoroughness.

"Come on, Sphinx," I tugged the leash. The Great Dane mix — yes, Sphinx, don't ask, his owner's weirdly into mythology — planted his paws and gave me those liquid brown eyes. "Marcus isn't coming out. His car's gone."

Sphinx huffed, sitting down with dramatic finality. The other five dogs followed suit, turning the sidewalk into a fur barricade.

That's when I noticed it — the spiral notebook tucked under the welcome mat at Marcus's front door. Not tucked away hidden, just... there.

"Bad idea," I muttered. "Terrible idea. I'm literally a criminal now."

Sphinx nudged my knee with his wet nose, and I caved. One peek wouldn't hurt, right?

The notebook fell open to a page covered in sketches — of me. Walking the dogs. Pausing at his house. There were timestamps, notes about my outfits, observations I'd never noticed anyone making.

"Holy crap," I whispered. "I'm not the spy here."

"Having a moment?" a voice said behind me.

I jumped about three feet in the air, dropping the notebook. Marcus stood on his porch, hoodie up, hands in pockets, looking anywhere but at me. Sphinx wagged his tail so hard his entire body shook.

"You..." I gestured helplessly at the notebook. "You drew pictures of my outfits?"

"You think I didn't notice you walking past my house every day at 4:15?" Marcus rubbed his neck, finally looking at me. "I was trying to work up the nerve to actually talk to you instead of just being the creepy guy watching from his window."

"So we're both creeps," I said, and he laughed.

"Pretty much." He stepped closer. "Want to get boba after you finish the dog route? Unless you have more reconnaissance to conduct."

Sphinx chose that moment to shake himself vigorously, spraying both of us with drool.

"I'll take that as a yes," Marcus said, grinning.

I'm still a dog walker. Sphinx still wags his tail like he knows everything. But now, at 4:15, I don't have to spy anymore. Some mysteries are better solved together.