I dug through the dredges of the internet until the sun rose, ultimately not finding much. And yet, even with being bone-tired and slightly disappointed, I couldn’t help but smile as I crawled into bed with a groggy Elijah, the sunlight working its way through an opening in the curtains.
“Morning, beautiful,” I said, kissing him.
He mumbled something that sounded very much like “happy birthday, asshole.” I highly doubted that was what he actually said. He kissed me before I could ask for clarification—not that I could ask anything, considering the morning kiss quickly evolved into much, much more.
16
Elijah King
The sun beamed bright, the birds chirped up a storm, the flowers were blooming, and the pedestrians were all bursting into spontaneously choreographed song and dance.
All right, so that last bit wasn’t happening, but everything else was.
Amelia and I were walking down the main street toward the Library so we could grab a drink. I readjusted the cap on my head and considered taking off my work polo and hanging out in my undershirt, not wanting any reminders of my job now that I was off for the day. Besides, walking next to Amelia in her designer jean jacket and dress made me feel slightly outdone. I should have been used to it by now, knowing that Amelia loved dressing up no matter what day, time, or occasion it was.
I left my bright orange polo on, deciding nothing would help the situation much. Not like I cared anyway. Not today. This morning I had woken up with a smile on my face and was determined to keep it on, same as I had these last couple of weeks.
“All right, spill,” Amelia said as we crossed the street. “You have way too much pep in your step. Either you’re on something really good and need to share, or you’ve been getting dicked down on the reg. Don’t worry, I won’t be asking you to share if that’s the case.”
“Okay, good, cuz I don’t think I’d be able to share anyway.”
She slapped my ass, making me jump in the air slightly. “So it is dick! You little sneaky bastard. Who? Who do I need to thank for putting a smile on your face?”
I flipped the smile into a severe frown, scrunching my brows. “What are you talking about? Smiling? What’s that?”
“It’s that thing you do when you’re getting your cherry turnt out.”
I scoffed at that. “Your imagery is beautiful.” We headed down a road lined with shady oak trees. Directly ahead, we could see the snowy tips of the White Mountain range reach up toward the cloud-dotted sky.
“Is it that detective guy? Ryan? Is he the one rearranging your guts?”
I stopped walking, Amelia taking a few steps without me before she noticed. “Oh, you’re on a different level today, aren’t you?” I asked, laughing as I continued walking next to her. “And who said he’s rearranging my guts? What if I rearranged his?”
Amelia lifted her shoulders and quirked her lips. “I don’t need the logistics. All I need is to see that you are one happy little disaster twink, and that makes me one happy little messy pansexual.” She smiled wide, dropping her cat-eye sunglasses halfway down her nose and giving me a playful wink. Amelia was right—no matter how hard I tried to ignore or deny it, lately, I’d been happy. Like, a kind of happy I forgot existed, one I thought maybe I’d never feel again. It was equal parts scary and exhilarating, and it was all because of Ryan Diaz and that damn golden retriever soul of his.
“I’ve been sleeping over his place, basically every night for the last two weeks.” Amelia’s jaw dropped. Before I could go on, I spotted Billie waiting for us outside of the Library. My drag mom ran over to us, looking like he had just left a PTA meeting, wearing a beige cardigan and some pressed slacks, his bold evergreen lip popping out from the otherwise drab outfit, especially by Billie’s standards.
“Elijah was just telling me about how he’s shacked up with a boy.”
“Who, with Ryan?” Billie asked as we continued all together to the bar. “Yeah, I know.”
I whipped my head to him. “You do?”
“Yes. You drunkenly called me the other day and told me everything. You were wine drunk, so I’m not surprised you don’t really remember.”
Now that he brought it up, the faint threads of conversation started to float back into my head. I had definitely hit the wine bottle a little too hard and ended up calling a couple of people that night. Mostly to just gossip, but also because I was just feeling so good. I was at Ryan’s house, and we'd had a night of board games and funny movies ahead of us, with a happy ending that would guarantee to leave us snoring, tangled up together under the sheets.