Page 41 of A Much Younger Man
“I’m not in the market for a boyfriend my own age, much less one with half my life experience.”
“But don’t you see? Maybe that’s exactly what you need. Someone you can nurture. Someone who you don’t compete with. Someone who takes you out of yourself.”
“Nah, Travis. Beck’s a sweet kid and a superb musician. I’d love to help him find his footing in life, but anything more is just impossible. I’d always feel like I was taking advantage.”
“Funny how you accused him of that in order to push him away.”
“All right, Dr. Phil. You should open up a practice.”
“I should open up a world-class barbecue joint.”
He should. “I’d be first in line if you did.”
“Until then, why don’t you order food in. You owe us for creating a hostile work environment.”
I got up to do just that. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Who else is gonna feed stray cats twenty-four seven with you?”
“You have a point.”
“Fix it with Beck, Doc. That’s me talking, not Dr. Phil. I don’t think you could handle breaking that kid’s heart.”
“But no pressure or anything,” I muttered as I entered my office. Didn’t Bistro sell smoked brisket sandwiches? I picked up the phone and ordered enough sandwiches with all the extras for the four of us, plus a couple more in case Beck stopped by.
If I pictured myself hand-feeding it to him, nobody had to know, right? If I imagined what it would be like to have him lick barbecue sauce off my fingers…Christ.
Lena buzzed my office phone, and I answered.
“Got Mr. Henson here. He thinks Tiger might have—in his words—‘piles.’”
“On my way.” I slipped on my lab coat and went to greet my walk-in.
* * *
I waiteda while before leaving the office that evening, but there was still no sign of Beck. I’d put the food I’d ordered for him into the refrigerator and left a note on the kittens’ crate that told him where he’d find the food if he was hungry.
Outside, I took a breath of the salt-tangy air and let the bright breeze flow through my soul. Looking west, I could see we were in for rain.
I could go home and remonstrate with Rico again, or I could search out dinner and drinks at Nacho’s.
I chose the latter because I thought Rico was probably tired of hearing me whine.
Jim perked up when he saw me. The crowd was a little thinner, not just because it was a Thursday night but because of the incoming storm. Already the sky had darkened to an ominous bruised purple, and lightning flashed over the sea.
I got a table by the window to watch the show. Jim joined me a few minutes later. We ordered carne asada street tacos.
“How’re things?” I asked. “Cooper not playing tonight?”
“Shawn’s doing a thing at the college, so Cooper went to provide muscle and support.”
I envied Cooper and Shawn, sometimes deeply. If any of my relationships had ever been like theirs, I wouldn’t be so determined to stay single. But what Cooper and Shawn had was different, elemental. They were air and fire—they fueled each other—whereas all too often, my boyfriends accused me of being some kind of wet blanket. I literally put their fire out. Did that make me water?
What did water do? Water smothered people. Water drowned them.
Wow. Maudlin much?“I think I’ll have a whiskey, Jim. Double.”
“That bad, huh?” Jim motioned our waiter over and gave him the order. “What’s eating you?”
