Page 104 of Cold Front
“Nothing. Just wanted to check in.”
“And?”
“I’ve got some news. Good news.”
She picked up on it immediately. “Oh my God. It happened, didn’t it?”
“What—”
“Eli, don’t even try it. I know that tone. You sound ridiculously happy. Which means you and your roommate finally?—”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Jesus, Chey.”
She cackled. “I knew it! Details. Now.”
I groaned. “Not happening.”
“Fine, but at least tell me you’re okay.”
I exhaled, the memory of last night settling warm in my chest. “Yeah. I’m okay. Better than okay, actually.”
Her voice softened. “Good. You deserve that.”
A comfortable silence stretched between us before she spoke again. “So… are you bringing him home for the holidays?”
That caught me off guard. “I, uh, haven’t confirmed anything with Mom and Dad yet.”
“Well, I’m heading back to Cali,” she said. “Figured I’d check if you were too.”
“You know I wouldn’t miss going back home for the holidays.” I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. “I want to bring Niall along. As long as he wants to come, and it doesn’t interfere with his hockey schedule.” A grin crept into my voice. “Actually, I was just thinking about all the places we could go. I don’t think he’s ever been to SoCal. I could take him to Santa Monica, or Griffith Park, or—oh, the Getty. Maybe we could go to Disneyland.”
Cheyenne chuckled. “Wow. You really love him.”
I didn’t even try to deny it. “Yeah. I do.”
Her voice turned teasing. “So, when are you telling him? Or have you told him already?”
I swallowed. “Soon. I hope.”
“Good,” she said. “And Eli?”
“Yeah?”
She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. “Thanks, Chey.”
“Anytime, bro.” She sniffed dramatically. “Ugh, so much emotion before I’ve even had my second cup of coffee. Who am I?”
I snorted. “A menace.”
“Correct.”
A pause, then—“So… since you’re all loved up, does that mean I officially have to live vicariously through you? Because I’m still tragically single.”
I tilted my head. “Still haven’t found someone who can put up with you?” Amusement curled at the edge of my voice.
“Rude.”
