Don't Call It Puppy Love

By Erin Marie Bassett

UGH! That's it.

Being obsessed with my brother's best friend for the last 10 years has brought me nothing but heart ache.  And maybe the midnight toast alcohol is still swimming through my system but this is a good idea.

I'll go on 25 dates before my 25th birthday. A stunt like that is bound to drum up so

• Language: English
• Publisher: EMB MKT
• Release date: May 14, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869292841

Book preview

Don't Call It Puppy Love

by Erin Marie Bassett

Published by EMB MKT

Copyright 2024

Cover Design & Illustrations by Chelsea Kemp

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold. While sharing is caring, please respect the hard work of this self-published author and purchase an additional copy to send to a friend.

Thank you!

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [e-mail].

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

All characters in this book are fictional and figments of this author’s overactive imagination. 

www.erinmariebassett.com

Copyright © 2024 Erin Marie Bassett

All rights reserved.

ISBN: TBD

é

For Liza

If I ever give an Oscar speech I’ll probably forget to say your name so here’s a book for you.

Content Warnings:

This story contains off page references to natural disasters, parental loss, adult cancer, childhood cancer, divorce, and alcoholism.

Male-Female, open-door, sexual encounters are featured on page.

Care was taken to represent these realities with sensitivity.

Don’t Call It Puppy Love

The Playlist

Everything Mary J. Blige

You’re Makin’ Me High Toni Braxton

Señorita Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello

U Got It Bad USHER

Tattoo Jorden Sparks

You Don’t Know My Name Alicia Keys

Faded SoulDecision

Baby Ashanti

Rock Wit U (Awww Baby) Ashanti

So Gone Monica

Hate That I Love You Rihanna, Ne-Yo ​

Until The End Of Time Justin Timberlake, Beyoncé

Favorite Song Toosii

All For You Janet Jackson

Come Over Jennifer Lopez

Bed J. Holiday

The Boy Is Mine Brandy

Honey Mariah Carey

Like You Bow Wow, Ciara

Visit erinmariebassett.com/books for the link to Spotify

Prologue

9 years, 3 months, and 4 days earlier…

Angie

Happy birthday to yoouuuuuuu! The crowd around me sings. I lean forward and blow out the 15 candles that are on top of a pink frosted cake.

I force a smile as everyone looks at me and claps for my ability to put out fire with my breath. I wish I felt powerful. I wish I felt mature.

Instead I feel like a little girl, sitting between Gran and Pops with a glittery pink party hat on my head. My eyes ruefully scan the bright pink streamers, the Valentine’s Day heart banner, because Gran said why waste a perfectly good decoration, and the gaggle of cool girls Gran insisted on inviting. They’re huddled together giggling about something.

Maeve Kelley, my best friend, and baker of the cake, hands me a slice on a 4th of July paper plate.

Again, why waste perfectly good paper products.

I overheard Carly saying she’s wearing a pushup bra she says with an eye roll.

Carly Hines is Lakeville High School’s most well endowed freshman. She doesn’t need any assistance. I glance down at the lack of a chest I was hoping would sprout by my 15th birthday and sigh.

Maeve catches it and leans over. C’mon they’re not so bad. Plus you can be a part of the IBTC with me.

IBTC? I ask.

Itty Bitty Titty Committee Maeve states matter-of-factly before taking a bite of cake.

I take another bite too and appreciate the quality. Maeve has a real talent. When Gran asked what kind of cake she should order I was about to say whatever you think is best when Maeve chimed in to tell her she’d make it.

Gran requested a pink outside and, ideally, the inside too. Where Gran got the notion that I’m obsessed with pink, or that I even like it, is a little bit of a mystery. I don’t wear pink. My room at her house is a tan color since we didn’t repaint it when I moved in. The only pink is on the comforter that my mom bought me when I was six.

Bethany, my brother Jimmy’s girlfriend, walks in to say goodbye before going to work. She wishes me a happy birthday and then gives Jimmy a kiss.

I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy the disappointed look on Carly’s face.

The kitchen at my grandparent’s house is divided exactly like the school cafeteria. Carly and the other popular girls are leaning against the island in the middle. The theatre and music girls are off to one side. The athletes off to another. Maeve and I at a table alone.

Gran invited all the girls in my grade. Like I’m a kindergartener. I tried to explain that’s not how birthday parties work when you’re a teenager but she insisted.

She had already filled out the pink invitations.

And, she was excited to throw a party. It’s happened slowly but each celebration feels a little more fun as the years pass since Mom died.

I finish my slice of cake and chat with Maeve about our dissection project in biology when the front door opens.

I look around the room and see that most of the girls we expected to come are here. And who would bother to show up an hour and a half late to a birthday party? They already missed the pin the tail on the donkey debacle.

I rub at the bruise I feel forming on my thigh when the new arrival walks into the room.

Holden Monaghan.

Hey Jimmy! Good to see you man! He says with a wide, perfect smile.

Holden! Welcome home! Jimmy replies as he pulls Holden into a man hug.

Maeve’s eyes double in size. She is the only person in the world who knows about my near-obsession level of attraction to Holden Monaghan.

He exudes all-American charm. Dirty blond hair that is cut short at the sides and longer on top and it’s styled to look like he just ran his fingers through it on his way out the door. He always wears pants or shorts that are slim cut, but not skin tight. Like they were custom made for him. Today his navy blue chino pants tug across his thighs and I have to check the side of my mouth for drool.

He’s paired the navy pants with a white v-neck t-shirt and an open chambray shirt on top. I can’t see his shoes from here but I’m guessing they’re a casual sneaker with no-show socks.

He understands fashion, he cares about his appearance.

He has no idea I exist.

But seriously, why would he look at me twice? I’m an average fifteen year old on the soccer team who draws a lot and has one friend.

Nothing to see here. I pay attention to fashion and trends but I never seem to get it right. The color is off or the cut slightly wrong. Or I pick up on a trend too early, and the cool girls think it’s weird.

Maeve helped me with my hair today, another thing that never seems to go well when I attempt it myself. She curled it  with her straightener and added a waterfall braid crown which is currently sitting under my pointy, pink birthday hat.

Holden smiles at the room and I see Carly stand up straighter from the corner of my eye. Even with Boobs McGee clearly vying for his attention, his gaze finds me almost immediately and somehow his smile widens even further.

Like it’s happening in slow motion, he walks across the kitchen towards me. Soft light follows him and I hear the angels sing. When he reaches me, he helps to lift me out of my chair and gives me a big hug.

My brain short circuits. My arms stick straight down at my sides like a nutcracker. My mouth is probably gaping open like one too. He smells like the feeling of being under a warm blanket by the fire. Comforting, energizing, relaxing. Woodsy, fresh.

He whispers, happy birthday kid in my ear before stepping back and winking.

I stand there like a statue. Maeve elbows me in the butt from where she’s sitting behind me and I snap out of it enough to mutter uhh, thanks.

Holden lifts a hand to my hair and gently touches my braid. A waterfall happens in my panties and I squirm a little with embarrassment.

I like this, He says with a smile.

I hear twin gasps from Maeve and Carly and all I can do is smile as my face turns as pink as the balloons that are tied to the back of my chair.

Holden stop messing with Angie, Jimmy calls. Come out back and have a beer with me.

Holden turns towards the patio door and says C’mon man, you know I’d never mess with your baby sister.

And that right there seals my fate.

I’ll forever hold a torch for Holden Monaghan.

And I’ll forever be his best friend’s baby sister.

Chapter 1

New Year’s Day, Present Day

Angie

There is a tiny creature playing the kick drum in my head. I picture the little guy from Men In Black and my stomach rolls.

Uhhhh. Happy New Year.

I roll to my other side and breathe through my nose as my world spins back into place.

Once things are settled, I open my eyes. It snowed last night but the roads were clear by the time Dad drove me home from Jimmy and Nora’s party.

I lift up the sheets to see that I’m still wearing the dress Nora picked out for me. It’s teal with silver glittery thread throughout. It has a low neckline and is a few inches shorter than I’m comfortable in but she insisted it looked great on me.

It did not catch Holden’s attention at all.

He arrived at the party early and left early. He said he needed to go take his dog out but like the pathetic wallflower I am, I watched him from Jimmy’s window. He walked into The Whale, the only bar in Lakeville, and then, about thirty minutes later, he left with a blonde under his arm. Solidifying his reputation as a playboy and his intention to not do anything differently this year.

It doesn’t even hurt anymore. His rejection. And I can’t even call it that because I’ve never told him I like him or made a move. It’s his apathy that hurts. No matter what I wear, how I do my hair or make up, or what accessories I put on he doesn’t notice me. I reach up and feel the waterfall braid I wore to the party and laugh at myself.

The sound, movement, and self-loathing tumble violently through my mind. I’m tempted to stay in bed all day, or maybe all year, but my booze addled brain is coming online, at dial-up speeds. Nonetheless, the screeching, hemming, and hawing can’t be ignored.

With my hands braced on either side of my hips I slowly push up to stand next to my bed. Okay, manageable. I pull the dress off over my head and grab the sweatshirt from the back of my desk chair.

Once I’ve slipped it on I sit down and pull out my Moleskin sketchbook.

New Year’s Day means a fresh start. I might feel like death but this is a big year for me. Next month we start filming the first full season of Design & Shine, the remodeling show on the HomeCraft Network that I have with my brother, Jimmy.

I slide the elastic back, thumb past the loose papers I stuff in here when I see something in a magazine or catalog that I like, and turn to a clean page. I uncap an old pen with my teeth, and scribble circles in the corner until the ink flows.

Then I pause. What do I want this year? How do other people do resolutions? With the pen cap still in my mouth, I open Pinterest and search It Girl Resolutions. The app fills with lists of Ins and Outs, heathy habits, and affirmations. I scroll and see vision boards and morning routines. I create a collection for myself called That Girl and start pinning with abandon.

When my low battery alert pops up, I stop and realize I got totally lost in the Pin Pit. I plug in my phone, turn it face down, and return to my notebook. All the things I saved were about self care, putting my needs first, and loving myself.

So what’s the one thing about myself I am totally over?

Resolution 1: Quit my crush on Holden Monaghan.

I bring the pen up to my lips and tap. The hard truth hits like a ton of bricks. I don’t think I can fully love and accept myself until I do this one thing. To help survive this uncomfortable feeling, I wrap myself in a hug and press my fingers into my rib cage for comfort.

Its not like every decision I’ve made in the last ten years has been WWHL (What Would Holden Like) but I know I haven’t tried dating anyone because I’ve been waiting for him to notice me.

For a while, I managed to forget he existed, sort of. When I was away for college I had a few unfulfilling nights with different guys. When I came home the business with Jimmy took off and Holden lived in Florida. I was busy and he was gone. No one around here got me excited about dating, and any casual mention of Holden sent it all rushing back.

It has only gotten worse since he moved back to Lakeville.

Gosh, I remember the first time I saw him after he moved back. We struck up a conversation at Pete’s Corner Market when we both reached for the same bagged salad kit. I snapped my hand back like I’d been burnt and let him pull it off the shelf but he tossed it in my basket before grabbing another for himself.

After we finished our shopping and checked out, I just kept walking with him and talking until we reached his apartment. The second I realized that I had followed him like a lovesick puppy, I turned around to speed walk back to my car. I’m not even sure I said goodbye.

Then we texted every so often. Once, I thought he was setting up a date but really he meant seeing each other in passing at the same bar while we were both there with other friends to play trivia.

Thank goodness my brother’s soon-to-be fiancée Nora, and her friend Liz, had been there that night. I saved major face.

Over the next few months Maeve and I psychoanalyzed him and every text like a couple of, well, psychos. We came to the conclusion that he was just being nice to his buddy’s little sister. Our winning evidence was that he was friendly when we’d cross paths but each hug was a beat too quick and he always called me kid.

There really isn’t any bouncing back from that.

So, resolution number one is to get over Holden but how?

By Harry, I’ve got it.

I’ll go on 25 dates before I turn 25.

I’ll simply date him out of my system.

The odds have got to be in my favor.

I sit back in my chair satisfied that I’ve come up with a plan so early in the day. I set the pen down on my desk and it rolls off to the floor.

I bend down, my head protests, and when I sit up I breathe my way through a bout of nausea. Once it passes, I slowly make my way back to my bed and I lay on top of the covers and stare at my room.

Things in here haven’t changed much since I was younger. There’s a wallpaper border at the top featuring woodland creatures parading through the forest. Pastels playing against the, now faded, green border of the paper. My closet doors are open and I stare at the few hanging items. Dresses from parties past that I never really felt comfortable in so I’ve never worn them again. The trendy jeans I bought and stuffed myself into. The shoes that the cool girls wore but always hurt my feet.

Resolution Number 2: Clean Out Closet.

From where I’m laying, I see a box on the shelf in the back corner that I don’t remember opening when I did the sweater switch back in November.

I stand up, slowly this time, and pull down the box, and bring it to my bed. I sit next to it and lift the lid.

Memories.

Things I had saved over the years to put in a scrapbook someday, but I never did. There are flyers from my soccer tournaments, torn magazine pages, and more than one movie ticket stub.

I keep digging and I find an envelope with my name on it.

I slide the letter out and a small silver chain falls to my lap. I lift it and then open the letter.

Angela, my darling,

You’re turning 15 and I simply can’t believe it. You’ll understand when you’re older but time flies and changes your view on things. We lost your mom six years ago now and I’ve tried my best to help you, Jimmy, and your father pull through it. Heaven knows I haven’t always been successful.

But this letter is about you. About the young woman you’re becoming. Don’t worry, your Bettys will grow and you’ll be complaining about them soon enough.

You’re a creative soul and I admire the way you bring beauty to the world. You’re like your mother in that way, she always had your father improving things.

As you get older remember to trust your gut. Find a signature lipstick. Memorize two recipes and always have the ingredients on hand. Learn how to change a tire. Pick a favorite cocktail.

Your family and friends will always be there for you. Don’t forget we’ll love and support you no matter what. We’re here supporting you even if we’re giving you space to grow. As our girl Ashanti says, I could never feel alone with you in my life.

Happy Birthday, Angie girl.

Love, Gran

Immediately Ashanti’s hit, Baby starts playing in my head. I reach over to my phone and start up my R&B Faves playlist. I open my palm to look at the necklace in my hand.

It’s a fine silver chain with Angie spelled out in a bubbly script. Tears well up in my eyes because I wanted this necklace desperately for my birthday. I remember Pops helping me put the necklace on and Carly snickering because it was silver, not gold. All the cool girls had one, modeled after Carrie Bradshaw, and even though I wasn’t allowed to watch Sex and the City, I knew I was a cross between dowdy Miranda and prim Charlotte. This necklace would have helped me feel more like a Carrie.

Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough to live like Samantha.

Actually, my 25 date challenge feels a little Samantha-esc. Although, I don’t plan on hooking up nearly as much.

Not that I’m against sex or anything but my experience with it so far has been, well, nothing to write home about.

Drunk college experiences where the guys just flopped in and out until they were done. I’d lay there afterward feeling sticky and smelly.

I clip the necklace on and tuck it into my sweatshirt before taking the letter to my notebook. I put Gran’s ideas for lipstick, recipes, and changing a tire, down under cleaning my closet and finally add picking a signature cocktail to the resolution list for the year ahead of me.

The thought of cocktails rolls my stomach again so I slip into a pair of plaid PJ pants that I’ve had since high school and pad down to the kitchen for something to eat.

Chapter 2

New Year’s Day

Holden

My phone rings again and I slap my hand out to get it. Who calls on New Year’s Day?

Hello?

Holden! Have you seen this? Westley, my college buddy turned business partner, says excitedly. Loudly.

Seen what?

Oh, you’re too hot for your own good, he mumbles. First time we met he hit on me, I clarified that I was into women, and only women, and we’ve been friends since. Seriously, I understand why straight women complain about straight men. Your lot are clueless.

Westley, this is the last time I’ll reminded you this year that you’re not British, he chuckles and I sit up in my bed, so, what are you talking about?

Check your email, I’ll wait.

I pull the phone away from my ear to open my email app.

At the top of my inbox is an email with the subject line: THE APP YOU NEED TO FIND LOVE THIS YEAR

I don’t get it Westley, why are you sending me a dating app article? I ask as I open the email. I do just fine on my own.

Yes, yes, we all know you’re a pick up machine, but no, this article is on the single, white, male, subreddit and it’s about Man’s Best Friend.

I pause as the article loads. Man’s Best Friend, my app that was designed to pair shelter dogs with male volunteers is listed as a dating app?

Are you reading it? Westly calls out.

Uh, yeah.

My favorite part is when it says the app basically drops the girls in your lap! I mean, what penis owning human isn’t going to love the idea of someone in their lap?

The article quotes a TikTok influencer who apparently focuses on the art of being a gentleman and manscaping. He is quoted saying that he took a dog for a walk and got two different girls, both eights, to approach him. He secured dates with them in the matter of a few minutes.

His theory is that having a dog by your side is the best way to land a chick. They’re drawn to the furry creatures and thus you by association.

Did you get to the part about dogs being good judges of character?

Huh? I’m trying to figure this all out. Honestly, the biggest shock is that it never occurred to me that marketing it to guys as a pick up tool would work. Yeah, I got to that part.

I tap back over to the phone call and lift it to my ear. So, what does this mean?

Well, it means our subscriber base has doubled overnight. I woke up with a text from Dev saying he needed to expand the server allowance. It means we need more cash and we need to market the hell out of this.

Okay, do you have anyone in mind for the cash? I ask.

I’ve got a few people. And honestly I think we could up the membership price a bit and have the users support the expansion.

Okay, I’m fine with that. Will our revenue share with the animal shelters change?

No, it should be able to stay the same. I’ll pull some numbers together when people are back in the office. In the meantime, sit back, relax, and watch this thing grow!

That’s what he said.

Holden, you’re bad. You sure you’re not gay?

I’m only gay for your friendship buddy.

He sighs, I know, the good ones are always taken or straight.

C’est la vie pal.

I’ll talk to you later.

I set the phone down and rub my hands over my face. Not how I expected to wake up this morning. Actually, speaking of, I expected to have a curvy little blonde next to me. Where did she go?

I climb out of bed and slip into a pair of joggers. The sound of me opening my door has Fred trotting down the hallway. He knows when a girl comes home he has to sleep in the living room.

I honestly think he’d understand if I put a tie on the doorknob.

Fred is a Basset Hound and Jack Russell terrier mix. I adopted him from a mobile rescue truck a year and a half ago when I was in Texas to help hurricane victims with veterinary services. After a week or so at the shelter no one claimed him.

I brought him home with me to Florida. At first Fred was timid around other guys if we were out for a walk. He was fine with women and children. Made me wonder what might have happened in his past.

He came along with me to the local shelter when I did my rounds. The director mentioned that she wished more men would come to walk the dogs because it helps them build trust.

On the way home, I came up with Man’s Best Friend.

The app charges users a small monthly fee and then they can schedule walks with their local shelter. To get shelters to sign up we give them a share of the revenue. Everything on the app is geared towards the emotional benefits of walking a dog.

Both for the dog and the person.

It wasn’t meant just for men but with the name or with the fact that women typically volunteer on their own it’s a mostly male membership base.

I clip Fred’s leash onto his collar and we make our way to the door. Once we head outside together I look around for the blonde who came home with me last night but was no where to be found in the apartment. Stephanie I think. I’m not proud that I’m only 90% sure that’s her name.

Jimmy and Nora’s party was fun, it’s always good to catch up with friends. But it was couples, dudes, and Jimmy’s little sister Angie. Lately I’ve become acutely aware when I’m the only single guy in the room. After a few drinks I decided to check out the crowd at The Whale.

I’m glad I did.

It gave me a chance to put the old formula to use.

When I was in college I figured out a surefire method to pick up a girl. The key is approaching a group of them and paying attention.

Each group has an alpha girl. The one who knows she’s hot. The one who the other girls know is hot. You approach the group and begin talking with her. See which girl steps up to protect her from the predatory male, and that’s the girl you focus on.

Slowly you transition your attention from the alpha girl to this beta girl, you talk to them together for a while, then you make a quiet comment to the second one behind the alpha’s back. Then initiate the first touches. Almost innocent hand placement on the back, brushing something, sometimes imaginary somethings, off her cheek. Eventually the alpha gets bored but the beta is hooked.

Last night it didn’t take long at all and the blonde was eager to head home with me. We each drank an old fashioned and watched the countdown coverage on TV. Afterwards we rung in the new year in bed.

It was fine, I could tell she was performing for me a bit. Most girls do. It’s rare to find one who lets herself completely surrender to hook up sex. But when you find that, it’s gold.

Fred sniffs around for a spot to do his business. The snow last night was no more than flurries. And this being upstate New York, it’ll snow again soon enough.

In fact that’s the reasoning my mom has given for staying in Florida this winter. Usually she comes home for the holidays but this year she stayed with her live-in boyfriend, Kevin, in Naples.

Good for her. After she split from my dad when I was five she never remarried. She had a few short relationships but her focus was on me, Daisy, our dog, Grandma, and work. In that order. I always felt like I was her top priority and it helped that I was usually the one hanging out with Daisy.

Daisy was our family dog back in Louisiana who came with me and mom to Grandma’s in Lakeville after Hurricane Gordon. My dad, who is a doctor, stayed behind.

At the time I thought it was because he was working to help people. He was doing that, but the truth was he and my mom were splitting up. He had been sleeping with one of the nurses at the hospital.

The storm pushed Mom over the edge. Dad had been stuck at work the night of the storm and she had to evacuate me and Daisy herself. We hit the road and she just kept driving north to her mom’s house.

We moved in with Grandma and settled in quickly. I met Jimmy at school and we became fast friends. He’d help me with Daisy after school. When we were older we’d put her on her leash and ride our bikes out to Cole’s family farm.

It was there that I really developed my love of animals.

College came around and Jimmy stayed back to care for the store and his family. I got a half ride to Cornell. I fast tracked by focusing on school and keeping my relationships formulaic. I graduated early with my Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine.

I had always wanted to move back to Lakeville but the practicing Vet, Doc Greene, was still working. A few years from retirement. So I went down to Florida, near Grandma and my mom and co-operated a clinic down there. I set up programs for kids and adults at the local shelter too.

The Florida life was good until it wasn’t. Grandma was diagnosed with cancer and refused chemo. Our lives became a revolving door of visits, pill regimens, and appointments.

When Grandma passed, something changed in me. I felt lonely more often than not. Mom dealt with her grief by traveling while I missed home. I missed Lakeville. I put wheels in motion to come back for good.

Fred has finally found an appropriate spot for his business. I log in to the back end of Man’s Best Friend and see that our subscriber number just cracked 250,000. Westley will find another partner for us to bring in and I’ll check in with the shelters this week between patients at the clinic.

I lock my phone and slide it into my pocket. As I stand from cleaning up Fred’s deposit I see one of the town busy bodies, Gina Papadakis walking by. I lift my hand in a wave and she returns it.

The first thought that comes to my mind is that no one besides Westley and the app team know I’m the man behind Man’s Best Friend. And I want to keep it that way.

I started it in my spare time. Sometimes working in my mom’s guest room when I stayed over at her place. When Westley posted that he joined a tech investment firm I reached out. Together we got the first round of funding and got the app launched nationwide.

When it came time to do publicity I decided not to be the face of it. In fact, we decided no one would be. We’d let the shelters do the talking about how much it was helping them and the animals.

I laugh at the fact that I never saw the potential for picking up girls, but it feels on brand for me. Maybe subliminally I designed it that way.

Fred and I head inside and while I’m making an Americano, I see the note.

Thanks for the bang, but I’m starting this year focused on me and open communication so that’s why I’m not leaving my number. - T

So not Stephanie then.

Chapter 3

Friday, January 5th

Angie

I love it! Nora claps from behind me. I asked my future sister-in-law to come along