Okay, fine,onecranky law enforcement officer. “Yes, but that means we still don’t have the killer,” I say. It may have come out as a whine.
“But we’re closer to him?”
“Sure,” I sigh.
My phone buzzes, saving me from another empty platitude Dominic was gearing up for.
Elliot: Someone asked me today if her cats could be conspiring to murder her because she found a peanut in her cereal, and she’s mildly allergic.
I smile down at my phone.
Me: Were u more woried abt cat conspiracy or the mildly allergic part?I text back.
Elliot: Oh, her cats are definitely planning to kill her. I would too, if I were them. Peanuts might not be the way to go, though. Or maybe they’re trying slow poisoning?
I snort a laugh. I see Dominic looking at me with interest.
“Just Elliot,” I tell him.
Smelling gossip, Sloan leans forward between our seats. Wasn’t she sleeping? “The man who single-handedly saved the women of LA from Nick’s awkward flirting?” she asks.
“Hey, I’m great at flirting with women,” I defend. “Ask my many, many exes.” Or Elliot. He seems to think I’m good at it even when there’s no flirting in sight. Like with Nat, who’s afellow Bureau agent. Not an on-field one, so our paths rarely cross, but her father held the position I now have. Besides, she was crushing hard on Elliot, which made the situation absolutely hilarious.
“I would be hesitant to add that second ‘many’, buddy,” Sloan says.
I give her the middle finger. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”
“You’re into women? I didn’t know,” Dominic says to Sloan.
Sloan is silent for a quarter second, and that silence is telling. I’ll need to do a deeper dive into that silence when we’re alone. “We’re not talking about that,” she says. “We’re talking about Nick’s first relationship with a man that’s clearly getting serious, and everyone warned him about that.”
“It’snotserious,” I insist.
“I mean, you’re making me drop you at his house,” Dominic points out.
Ugh, I hate having friends who know me better than myself. I won’t be surprised if Sloan decided to join us today just to interrogate me. “Alright, it’s more than just a casual hook-up for me,” I shrug. “It has been for a while. And it’s scary because Elliot always has one foot out the door. To him, I’m nothing more than a guy he sometimes tolerates.” I confess. I’m not confused by all the baked goods or the unsolicited texts.
But I’m hopeless. I haven’t even asked him a single question about werewolves in weeks. I’m almost ready to believe my instincts were pointing me towards him for all the right reasons and not because there’s something wrong with him.
I want to tell him I like him, maybe more than that. That we’re not just a hookup. I want to give this thing a real try.
We spend most nights together, for fuck’s sake. I love spending time with him, being around him, or just being in the same place as him. I wait for his texts every minute I’m not physically with him. Every day, it’s becoming impossible to imagine my life without him, and I’m afraid I might just chain him to my bed and lock the room if he ever tries toleave me.
But I know the second I utter any of it, he’d bolt. Then I might really find out if I’m capable enough of locking someone in my apartment. I’m scared I won’t like the result.
“First relationships can be confusing. The second or third try would be better,” Sloan breaks the silence that descended in the car. She pats my shoulder.
I roll my eyes and yawn reflexively. “It’snotmy first relationship. And was that supposed to help? Because that did not help,” I tell her.
Sloan sighs. “I could have helped if you had brought him to hang out with us,like ever. I don’t know shit about him. And I can kinda believe he doesn’t do relationships. Aren’t we supposed to believe when people tell us something about themselves? Didn’t we already learn that lesson collectively as a community?”
“Again, not helpful,” I say.
“Okayyy. Most relationships end anyway. And we’re all going to die eventually. I will die, you will die, Dominic will die. Elliot will also die. So what’s the point of anything anyway? Wasthathelpful?” she asks with a hopeful voice.
“Wow.” Serves me right to ask for advice from my one friend who’s terrible at it. Jell-O shots with questionable ingredients? Sloan is your girl. Advice? Run the other way. How did I forget? Oh, wait, I didn’t. She inserted herself into the conversation.
“Not helpful?Ugh, listen, whenever I've seen that little loner of a man talk with anyone but Ollie, the conversations ended within two seconds flat. He literally walked away when Marcus tried to get him to talk about animal carcasses,” she reminisces.
