Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Needless to say, the cleanup took years to complete, but it was definitely worth it. My parents were talking about it for months, and I couldn’t have been prouder of him.
So yeah, he and I were a little different, and that’s exactly why I needed his advice tonight.
“How was the drive?” he asked as I entered into his apartment. I kicked my shoes off by the door.
“It was good. Made it in an hour and a half, I think. No traffic at all.”
We caught up on some recent events while I helped set up the table. Oliver’s apartment was a blast of his personality, with a bright red focus wall on the far end of the room and a wide TV sitting on a pastel pink stand that looked a little too small for it. There was a framed photo of Mariah Carey at some red carpet event sitting next to framed photos of us and the family, all happily displayed on a couple of rainbow-painted shelves.
“How’s your new job been?” Oliver asked as he got drinks ready for us.
“Great! Stonewall is an awesome place to be at; all the detectives there are great people. It’s already starting to feel like a family. It’s been really good.” Oliver’s two cats, Mason and Jar, came around the corner, the pair purring like motors as they bumped into my legs, winding between them and rubbing up all over me. Mason was the bigger one, with a beautiful coat of orange-and-white fur; he looked like an ice-cream pop. Jar was a little quirkier, with an all-black coat except for his tail, which looked like it was dipped in white. “I’ve got a feeling you’d get along with pretty much all of them. We’re throwing a party in a few days if you want to come.”
“Ah, man, I wish, Jojo. I’ve got big exams coming up, so I can’t, but maybe the next one.”
“Yeah, try to make it out. I want to introduce you to everyone. There’s one detective, actually, that I think you’d like a lot.”
“Oh? Is someone playing matchmaker?”
“We’ll see. I could be completely wrong about my hunch.”
After Mason and Jar received their share of head and neck scratches, they sauntered off to go cuddle up on the cat tree set next to a cardboard cutout of Steve Irwin holding up a baby crocodile and looking like the happiest man on earth.
My brother was a fun one, and I loved him for it.
We sat down at the uncharacteristically bland brown table to eat. The purple place mats added that Oliver touch, though.
“This is some good-ass steak,” I said, as the piece I had melted in my mouth.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ve been watching a shit ton of ASMR cooking videos. Did you know that’s a thing?”
“Not at all, no.”
“Well, it is. Niche really, but a great way to de-stress after exams. Anyway, one of the videos did an interesting technique with their steak and I was like ‘oohh, okay, I see you,’ and so I copied the shit out of them. And it worked.” Oliver lifted his fork, a juicy piece of perfectly cooked steak steaming through the air. “This would make Gordon Ramsay come in his smock.”
I almost choked on some mashed potatoes.
“Smock, right?” Oliver asked before eating his steak. “Is that—apron, duh, his chef’s apron. Not smock. That’s like for an old-time sheep shepherd or something. Anyways, an apron. That’s what he’ll blow in after he takes a bite of this steak.”
“You’re crazy,” I said, laughing. It helped ease some of the nerves that bundled up my shoulders, made my chest feel tight. I didn’t know how to bring it up, or when I should bring it up. There wasn’t really a guidebook for these types of conversations.
“So, uh, any… seeing anyone? Boyfriends lately?”
“Are you okay? You sound like you’re choking on a dick.”
I made a sound that was pretty similar to what choking on a dick sounded like.
I definitely would know from these past three weeks.
“No,” Oliver answered, his face drooping. “Nada. Zip. Zero. Gulch. Oblivion. Natural disaster. Universal doom.” He shrugged. “That’s my dating life, sparknoted for you.” My brother’s head cocked to the side, his sharp light blue eyes scanning mine. He was catching on to something, I could tell in the squint he did whenever things were clicking in his head. “Why?”
“Why what? I can’t ask to see how my little brother is doing in terms of finding a future life partner?”
“Uh-huh.” He wasn’t falling for it, I could tell. And why was I trying to cover my tracks in the first place? “You were never really interested in my dating life, not that I blame you—it’s been a train wreck and a half anyway—but… why now? What’s got you so curious, huh?”
The proper question would have been “who” had me so curious.