Broken but Breathing (Jinx Tattoos 2)

“You don’t do that. At least, you didn’t before,” Jole said.

“Do what?”

“Talk about the tornado like that. It’s always been this massive elephant in the room we only infer to. I was still on the fence about your boyfriend. Now I’m sold.”

“Because of sex glow?” Es asked, wrinkling her nose.

“No, you dork. Progress. You’ve come a long way in the past six months and I know he had a lot to do with it. At the end of the day, all I want if for you to be healthy and happy. I can see you are all of those things. It’s a good look.”

“Thank you,” Es said.

“Of course.”

“What’s going on in Jole’s world?” Es asked as they moved toward the stackable washer and dryer.

“Same. Things are getting better and better with Todd. I have you to thank for that. If I had never opened up and gotten your encouragement, I’d be miserable.”

“You know we practice tough love. A real friend tells you what you need to hear whether you want the advice or not.” Es opened the dryer door, placed her clothing on top, and began to fold them and pack them away into a bag.

“Is there something you want to tell me about your living arrangements?” Jole asked in a voice laced with sarcasm.

“No. I’m over there most of the time. Between helping him get the home together and working late hours, it’s easier to live out of my suitcase there.”

“How does tall, dark, and deadly feel about it?” Jole asked.

“He’s not that bad. I think if it was up to him I’d never leave. He’s never been the one in this relationship who kept things developing slowly. He took his time out of respect for me.”

“And where do you stand? Is this a fling, a short term relationship, or what?”

Es swallowed. “It’s serious, Jole. I can’t see life without him, and that’s not a statement I would ever make lightly. He balances me, understands the darkness I’ve lived through, and chases away the ghosts when I’m getting sucked into my past. He relates. I don’t have to explain myself, feel bad, or avoid him when I’m struggling because he gets it. With him I’m never really alone.”

Jole’s eyes were the size of a quarter. “Jesus Christ, Estelle. You’re completely head over heels for this guy, and it sounds like he feels the same way about you. I don’t know many bikers, but it seems to me he wouldn’t let everyone know you’re his girlfriend if he wasn’t serious.”

“It’s called an old lady, and no he wouldn’t. It’s their version of being married.”

“Would you marry him?” she asked.

“Oh my God. I think I would,” Es said, leaning against the dryer as her knees weakened.

“Damn, when you go, you go hard, don’t you?” Jole said.

“I guess so. What the hell am I going to do?”

“Not freak out, first of all. This is all hypothetical. No one is popping the question anytime soon. It’s always good to know where you stand in a relationship. End game affects the way you respond to things.”

“What if he does though?” Es asked.

“Then you’ll say yes, get you a leather vest for her, marry, ride away into the sunset, and have magma hot sex for the rest of your life.”

“Just like that?” Es said, waving her hand in a fluid gesture.

“Well, you’d have to plan a few things first, but essentially yes. We’re too old to play games and wait to be sure. You’re thirty- eight, you know what you want and don’t.”

“Don’t age me. I’m still thirty-seven.”

“Not for much longer,” Jole replied with glee.

“You’re evil,” Es said, making the sign of the cross and hissing.