Page 13 of Can't Text This

“See, you just needed to break the ice. Now you two are chatting and you can throw in there how you wanna bang her and all that. It’ll be great.”

I stare blankly at him. “How in the hell did you ever get a girlfriend?”

“Ah, ah, ah—alive-ingirlfriend.”

I briefly squeeze my eyes shut and try not to laugh at his enthusiasm. “Right. My bad.”

“It’s because of my ass. That’s what sealed the deal, really.”

“Dad, Uncle Zach said ass. You said I couldn’t say ass. Why does he get to say it?” He walks back into the kitchen and sets his plate on the counter, then rolls his sleeves up before getting to work rinsing his plate and putting it in the dishwasher. He knows I’m here to take care of him, but he has to clean up after himself. It’s teamwork.

Zach looks at me, eyes innocent and face red with held-in laughter.

“Get the hell outta here, man. Wait, whyareyou here anyway?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I was in the area. Met with that client at the ass—”

“Hey!” Xavie says, jumping off his stepstool and pretending to punch Zach’s stomach.

Zach pretends to take the hit and makes all the proper noises. He’s the best fake uncle ever.

“I meantbutt, you little turd. Calm down.” The kid backs away but is ready to strike again if necessary. “Anyway, I met with him at thebuttcrack of dawn and knew you’d be up getting this rascal ready for day camp, so I thought I’d stop in and see him since it’s beena while.” He nods toward my phone. “Apparently that was a good idea. It’s like I had bestie intuition or some sh—stuff. Why, did you think I was here to see your ugly mug?” He scoffs. “Like I need more of you in my life.”

“Shut up,” I retort, then turn my attention back to my buzzing phone.

Monty:So, Robbie from Lola’s, why’d you text?

Me:I can’t stop thinking about you.

Monty:Wow. Straight to the point then.

Me:I’m not one to beat around the bush. Not my style.

Monty:Good to know.

Monty:If I’m being very honest, and even though I can feel my cheeks heating just thinking of admitting this to you, I’ve thought about you as well.

“Who you texting, Dad?”

“Business.”

“Business?”

“Yeah, none of yours.”

He props his hands on his hips and scrunches his face up. “That’s not nice.”

“Fine. It’s Santa Claus. Homeboy just told me if you don’t go brush your teeth and get dressed, you’ll be missing a present under the Christmas tree.”

He lifts a brow. “Santa’s old. He’ll forget by Christmas time. It’sJuly, Dad.”

“He might forget, but I won’t. Scoot!”

The little smartass lets out a sigh but obeys, trudging off down the hallway to get ready for the day.

When he’s out of the room, Zach sidles up next to me. “That her?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what else to say.”

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