Page 122 of We Can't Be Friends

Immediately after college, when I moved to Chicago, I got Tucker. My parents and Miller thought I was insane. Adjusting to a new city and post graduate life was already a challenge. Mix in a twelve week old puppy? A surefire way to drive myself insane, but grief was already doing that.

That never happened. Instead, I adjusted—as I always force myself to do. Tucker was an easy puppy compared to the horror stories I’ve heard about. Listened and trained quickly. Didn’t cry throughout the night, but that was probably because I did enough of the crying for the two of us. Couldn’t both be crying ourselves to sleep, now could we? Anyway. He was the first companion sincethat morningwhen I was left to fend for myself.

Tucker didn’t know, nor will he ever know because he’s a dog, and dogs don’t understand humans—I will fight this fact forever—but he’s been protecting me. Soothing the wild, guarded exterior and soft, scared interior.

With all the boys that have been a revolving door in our lives, he’s always loved me best.

My mind drifts to the one boy that I think could love me as Tucker does if I let him. Unconditionally. Relentlessly. Patiently.

There he is. Standing in the kitchen next to my nephew.

He’s focused on the measuring cup Riley is flipping upside down. His smile at its full capacity. His sandy hair sticking out from the bottom of a backward hat. His chiseled jaw and large, broad shoulders shake with a laugh. One arm is tucked around Riley’s waist, steadying him like he’s steadied me. His vintage Goo Goo Dolls concert tee fitting him perfectly in all the right spots. His sunshine shining through my darkest corners.

The sight goes straight to my core—memories and, um, a lot lower, which isn’t appropriate around my nephew. All cautions flying out the window.

I drink in the sight of him again. I think I’d let this man put a child in me tonight if this is what being a dad looks like on him.

“Hi,” I say, sneaking behind them to get water.

“Hi! Auntie Chloe!” Riley cheers, waving a flour dusted hand at me.

“Hey, buddy. What are you two up to?”

“What does it look like?” His sassy tone mirrors mine. “Making cookies.”

I snicker. Cal’s attention comes to me. “Someone’s sass is rubbing off on him.”

I give him a coy smile. “Yeah, yours.”

Cal double-checks to ensure Riley is okay before turning his body to mine and swiping a bite of dough from the bowl. “Yours.”

He holds out his finger to me. “Want to try?”

I take the dough, swiping it off his finger, ignoring the temptation to taste it another way.

“Good.” I lick my lips. “I’m going to change. Then I can’t wait to eat these cookies.” Exiting the kitchen, I plop a kiss to Riley’s cheek.

“Doesn’t Cal get a kiss, too?” Riley asks, stopping me in my tracks. My eyelids flutter.

“Yeah, doesn’t Cal get a kiss, too?”

“I don’t know, bud. Heard you’ve been good today. I’m not sure about Cal.” I pop my hip, arm resting on it, and tilt my head. “Only good boys get kisses.”

Riley giggles.

“I can be such a good boy. I promise.” Cal winks.

***

The oven buzzes as I walk down stairs.

“We’re friends, right?” I overhear Riley ask Cal.

“We better be,” he responds with the slightest hint of a laugh.

“Silly goose me. You might be my bestest friend.” There is a pause before Riley continues, “After my dad. And Chloe. And Tucker. And this really, really, really pretty girl in my class at school. But after that, you are.”

“I’ll take whatever spot you’ll give me, mate.”

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