Desi’s waiting for me by the sink when I exit the stall.
“You and Junior have been making eyes at each other all evening,” he says, leaning his hip on the sink as I turn on the water.
“That’s not all we’ve been doing,” I respond, cracking up at my own joke.
“Really?” he says, putting his hand on his chest. “Having a little Christmas fling, are we?”
I shake my head. “We both want more.”
Desi’s mouth flies open and he throws his arms around me, despite the fact I’m in the middle of rinsing my hands. I end up with water down the front of my pants.
“Sorry!” he says, grabbing a massive handful of paper towels.
Laughing, I take about half from him and pat myself down. I don’t care about the water, mostly because it feels nice to get his approval, and patting over the cock cage reminds me what I’ve got waiting for me at home.
Desi gives me a knowing look. “Junior’s a great guy. I’m sure y’all are fire together.”
My neck goes hot. “Yeah, we kinda are. And he stood up to my dad this morning.”
Desi’s eyes widen. “Your dad went after you this morning?”
I toss out the wet paper towels. “Junior picked me up at my house, and we started making out in the driveway.”
Desi clasps his hands together. “The best.”
I lift a shoulder. “But then my dad was driving down the street and saw us. Stopped the truck and started yelling at me. Called me every name in the book.”
“Bastard,” Desi curses under his breath. Looking up, he holds out his hands. “Sorry, I know he’s your dad, but you didn’t deserve that.”
“Bastard about covers it. He then got out of the truck to yell at me some more, but Junior went up to him and—”
“Hell, Junior’s at least half a foot taller than your dad.”
“And his shoulders are twice as wide,” I brag. “I’ve never seen my father back up so quickly. The most fucked-up part is that he threatened to call the cops.”
Desi snorts. “Yeah. Patrick’ll get right on that.”
We both laugh, and then he pauses, pushing a bit of hair off my forehead.
“You seem happier than the last time I saw you.”
“I am.” I pick at a hangnail before continuing, “Also…working outside like this? I started to feel it yesterday, but today I know for sure.”
“What? What do you know for sure?” Desi asks, encouraging me.
“I’m not meant to be in an office. I know the makeup throws people off,” I start.
Desi tilts his hand from side to side. “Actually, I think it’s the Doc Martens. Nobody knows what to make of you.”
“It’s definitely the combination.” I laugh. “I mean, I know I don’t look like somebody who could be, like, a landscaper or whatever, but—”
“Oh! You want to get into landscape design? That’s so cool. And why don’t you look like a landscaper? Do they have to look a certain way?”
“I’ll probably have to wear something more practical than this,” I say, gesturing to myself.
Desi shrugs. “Sure. I have no doubt, however, that you could pull off goth landscaper. Your specialty can be black roses and deep-purple chrysanthemums.”
I crack up because that is exactly what I’d choose for myself.
