I scoffed. “No, I haven’t. I like him. A lot. It’s too soon for love, but he gets me. No one ever gets me. I even told him about Mexico—”
“No way. And the car in the pool?”
“Well, I didn’t go into detail, but… sort of. Yes.”
Elifet sipped his beer, nodding approvingly. “Yep. Definitely love.”
“Lust. It can’t be more. Christ, we haven’t even slept together.”
Elifet’s brows winged up, but before he could inject an opinion on that accidental revelation, I clarified. “We’ve gotteneach other off plenty. He’s not celibate. We just haven’t… done everything.”
“A blow job is still sex.”
“I’m trying really hard not to push him or come on too strong. You know what I’m like. Guys hate being smothered, and I’ve fucked up enough relationships by doing exactly that.”
“Because you’re needy, and you’ve been searching for a replacement family since you were sixteen.”
“I have not.”
“You know, many people go into relationships wearing fake glossy finishes over their real selves, then they wonder why things don’t work. It’s better to stay true to who you are.”
“I’m trying.” Except I wasn’t always sure the real me held much appeal.
“Kobe, you have a nasty habit of molding yourself into what you think other people want instead of being yourself.”
“I’m not doing that this time.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think so. I’ve told him about my family. He’s heard my less-than-couth commentary about work. My flaws are shining in all their neon glory… some of them. Not all.”
“Aww.” Elifet leaned over and ruffled my hair. “My boy is growing up and falling in love with a single dad. Soon you’ll be married and having more rug rats.”
I chuckled. “Hardly. Between my mountain of unattractive flaws and Dominique’s tragic past, we’re fumbling along, but what we have would not qualify for the next Hallmark love story.”
“It’s still syrupy sweet.”
“Whatever. I feel like at any moment he’s going to decide he’s not ready for this and walk away. How can you be married to someone for fifteen years and not struggle to move on? God, am I rebound? I am, aren’t I? Fuck.”
“You’re not rebound.” Elifet slapped my thigh. “It sounds like he’s into you. He invited you for Christmas, for fuck’s sake. That’s a big deal.”
“You’re just glad I won’t be sitting at home moping.”
“Maybe. Although I’m mildly hurt that you readily agreed to spend the holiday with your sexy pathologist, and yet you refuse me every year.”
“I feel inferior around your perfect family. Besides, your mother doesn’t get that we aren’t dating.”
Elifet laughed. “She’s old-fashioned and doesn’t like to admit her son shags a revolving door of nameless hot men he finds at the club. Plus”—he patted my cheek—“she likes your baby face.”
I pushed his hand away. “Stop. Get me another beer and find a game on TV.”
25
Dominique
A pot simmered onthe stove, filling the kitchen with the savory scent of Italian wedding soup. I sat across from Cosette, whose tongue poked out the side of her mouth as she used crayons in her favorite princess coloring book. She concentrated on staying within the lines, something Miss Heather had taught her. Four months ago, her attention to such details had been nonexistent.
I shifted my focus from Cosette to the open folder in front of me, evaluating every microscopic detail of the report I’d made, examining the photographs of a young man who should have been entering the prime years of his life. Not anymore. His future had expired.
