“Bruh, that is literally the fourth shirt you’ve tried on in the past ten minutes. Are you getting ready for a date?”
I paused, discarded the cardigan in hand, and stared at the face of my sibling. His blue eyes, so much like Dad’s and mine, looked back at me in expectation.
“No,” I said firmly because God damn it, I had to be firm. No dating Chip. No. The handholding had been crazy enough to engage in. Why I’d invited him was beyond me. I was so freaking confused. Was I dating this man or wasn’t I? I had said I was, but now I was back to waffling. My head was a mess.
“Okay, shit, don’t take my head off,” Devon replied curtly.
“Sorry, I’m just… scattered today. Tell me about Albany. How goes your investigator’s training? Are you enjoying the capital?”
“Okay, so the training is hard as hell but fascinating, especially the forensics capsules. Albany is as cold as my ex’s heart, and there’s one female officer here taking the training as well. She’s married with two kids and a dog named Pinto Bean. So, other than studying… ”
“Gotcha. You could wade through the snow to find a singles bar somewhere.”
“You could do the same.”
“I do. On occasion.”
“Aside from the yearly Pride venture you make to Fauna, I mean.”
I pulled on a pricey polo shirt Mom had bought me for Christmas two years ago that I’d yet to wear. Much like my phone, my car, or my vacuum cleaner, clothes served a purpose: keeping my ass covered and warm. That was it. But this shirt, according to Mom, brought out the blue in my eyes. She’d like to see me in it, and it fits well. Also, it wasn’t a washed-out Yankees or RFD tee or my duty uniform. Turning side to side in the mirror over my dresser, I had to admit it looked good. Showed off my body. Not that I wanted to show off my physique to anyone. No way. I just wanted to make my mother happy.
That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it, to quote Collin Raye.
Right. Ignore inner Dane. This is what happens when you grow up listening to classic country. Thinking about those summer days in the backyard tossing a baseball with my father popped up as frequently as Willie Nelson or Travis Tritt rolled out of the radio in the garage.
“Speaking of Pride, are you planning on working the RPD booth again this year? I’ve signed myself up for a shift as well as Tim.”
Devon nearly choked to death on the sip of energy drink he was guzzling. “Evil bastard,” he snickered after his eyes stopped watering.
“It’s all part of his sensitivity training.”
“Brutal. I love it. Not sure the captain has even discussed it yet. I mean Pride is in June, and it’s January, so it’s not exactly front and center yet, but yeah, I’m happy to work the table.”
“Great. I like to see family turning out. Mom is already starting to make little crocheted whales in the colors of the LGBTQIA+ flags.”
“Mom’s amazing. So, no date? What are you worried about your clothes for if not for a new guy?”
“Just dinner with Eli and Mom. Thought I’d wear this polo she got me for Christmas.”
Why was I hiding Chip from Devon? Maybe because he knew the risks of this kind of thing blossoming to life. Maybe Chip and I would fizzle out before any harm to my career was done. Maybe I was ashamed of myself for being so damn weak. Maybe I was a walking contradiction with a massive crush on a hockey player. FFS.
“Ahh, right. Well, I hope Mom and Eli appreciate all the gel you’ve worked into your hair to make it look as if you attendMy Hero Academia.”
Shit. I almost reached up to do something to calm my anime hair when Devon snorted in an annoying little brother way.
“You can fuck off.” He broke up. I flipped him off to just sweeten the moment. “I have to go. You know Eli dislikes tardiness.”
“Donotmake Eli mad, or we’ll never get any more chocolate babka.”
“For that last crack about my hair, you may never get any ever again. I’ll keep it and eat it all.”
“Liar. You love me.”
“I do. You’re still an asshole, though. Study hard. See you soon.”
“Later, bro.”
We ended the call just in time for me to dart around my narrow home, check the thermostat, and jog out my front door. I nearly ran down Chip and Sable on my front stoop. Random snowflakes coated his hair and Sable’s back.
