Page 11 of The Time It Takes

I woke up one day and looked around and realized it had stopped feeling temporary, like I was a guest. It just felt normal now.

I wondered what that meant.

I didn't miss her or even think about her every day after a while. My life had changed. I think my standards had changed, and my beliefs about myself. I was no longer sure I could pick a good partner (romantically, that is—I'd clearly picked a winner when it came to work partners). I certainly wasn't ready to start dating again, even to soothe my wounded pride.

I just felt so tired at the thought of even downloading an app and putting myself out there. I still felt like a bear hiding in my cave, not ready to face the springtime. But at least I was starting to notice that it wasn't actually winter anymore.

I was going to be okay. I was going to get over it.

Chapter five

Iwas helping makea salad in the big kitchen, and Ellie was nearby helping, too. She stood close, her elbow occasionally bumping mine.

"What's your favorite thing to eat, Cole?"she asked me, her head bent low as she cut tomatoes. The juice, the seeds, were sliding everywhere on the cutting board, threatening to create a gush of fluids onto the table.

"Not sure," I said, not really paying attention to her words. "I like lots of different things." The tomato seeds were bothering me. Any moment, they'd be all over the table. It wasn't like we were being particularly tidy, but salad making shouldn't be this messy, even when you were making enough for a dozen people.

The door opened, and a kid ran through, giggling. Another chased after, not sounding nearly so happy. Then footsteps, full-sized and adult.

"Hey, don't leave the door open," said a familiar voice, and Arlie was there. I looked up and smiled at him, and then stopped, because he was with someone. A woman was following him, a loose open sweater wrapped around her. She looked around cautiously, as if wondering if anyone was going to leap out and startle her.

"Hey," I said, to Arlie. I hoped he'd introduce his guest. I was pretty sure it was his date. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't like meeting his dates, which somehow made me all the more determined to meet them and be nice, so he'd never guess. It was weird how much I didn't like his dates. I hoped I wasn't becoming a misogynist in my old age. Just none of them seemed good enough for him.

Maybe my view of things was colored by how bad it had gotten for me with Darby. Not every girl was like that, and let's be real, Arlie was probably better at judging character than I was.

The young woman raised a hand awkwardly, her smile weak. "Hey," she said.

She had a slight build, the stereotypical pretty blond girl with perfect makeup and fashionable clothing. She probably dieted all the time or worked out obsessively to stay so slim. I wondered if she had a shifter kink or wanted a big, strong man. Maybe she was just curious about dating a wolf shifter. I didn't know what the girls who went after Arlie wanted, that they never seemed to stick around for more than a couple of dates. Maybe the sex wasn't good.

I shouldn't be thinking like this. It was gross, and I needed to mind my place. It wasn't my business what he did with his dick, or what he saw in these girls he dated so mindlessly that he couldn't even seem to find one he'd last with a whole month.

I didn't think he was just a fuckboy, because he'd told me he wanted to settle down. He wanted someone for life. He'd confided more than once he was frustrated with how hard it was to find that person.

"This is Dylan," said Arlie, not looking at her. He gestured vaguely. "Dylan, this is Cole, my partner."

"We work together for the police," I clarified, wiping my lettuce-wet hands quickly on a kitchen towel and extending a hand to offer for a shake. "Pleased to meet you," I lied.