Page 14 of The Time It Takes

Chapter six

We didn't talk aboutit anymore. Things were cool between us for a couple of days, but they warmed up again. I couldn't stay mad at Arlie, even if I thought he was making mistakes in his relationships and letting other people have too much influence on him—the same way he couldn't stay mad at me when it came to me doing those things.

And I guess he forgave me for saying too much, because pretty soon we were back to bringing each other coffees and going on outings with each other, sometimes just us, sometimes with the pack.

We got back the careful, respectful parts of our relationship. He'd pushed those edges when he was worried about me being with Darby, and I'd certainly pushed them by judging his dating habits and telling him he should date men and not care what his pack thought. But we got our balance back.

One of the things I'd always liked about our partnership was that comfortable, respectful, circumspect attitude of not pushing each other and not taking things for granted. We didn't go for a lot of deep conversations, but we were pretty comfortable being in each other's space. It was a level of comfort I didn't have with many other friends.

Bros being bros.

It was nice to trust him that much, to feel safe with him. I knew I'd need to keep a lid on any further criticism I had for him, because I didn't want to endanger that again, and part of me didn't know just how fragile our partnership might actually be. Yes, we worked well together, and we got along, and generally I trusted him. But I also suspected there were things that couldn't be unsaid, and I'd come closer than I wanted to endangering our friendship and partnership.

Not to say he'd drop me. Not without warning, not without a chance to fix it. But. Well. I knew it could happen. If he was afraid his pack might reject him for dating the wrong people, some part of me was afraid he'd get fed up with me if I said the wrong thing or became too much trouble.

He didn't need to look after me as much lately, though. I was getting through the worst of the breakup aftermath and didn't need to be reminded to do basic tasks. I wasn't ready to move out yet, but that was mostly because I felt pretty comfortable with the pack. I didn't feel the need for more space yet, and it was nice being near the community. I felt like a lot of them were my friends at this point, too, not just neighbors, not just Arlie's people. It was nice to be able to be social for a bit, then go back to my room and be alone, and not have to think about any of it too much. Plus, the group meals were good, and I felt like less of a freeloader now that I was actually paying rent and helping with food prep.

I still wanted Arlie to make better dating choices. I wanted him to be happy. But me telling him what to do wasn't going to fix it. He wasn't going to change because I thought he should.

And maybe that was best, anyway. I didn't want to control his life or be another person he had to try to change himself to please. Anyway, the crisis seemed to be over. As long as I could keep my feelings to myself the next time he brought around a girl he wasn't actually interested in, it would all be okay.

#

"You don't go on dates, do you, Cole?" Ellie sat beside me on the dock, our feet dangling in the water.

Most of the pack were swimming. I wore swimming trunks, but I wasn't getting in the water. I didn't actually know how to swim very well and a murky lake on a hot summer day wasn't my idea of a good time. Some folks were fishing. I was just hanging out for the vibes and to share the picnic lunch; then I'd go and do something on my own for a while.

It was nice to have my own space and be able to leave a function early without anyone berating me about it later. Darby used to do that a lot. Whatever I did, it wasn't quite right. I wasn't social enough, or I wasn't interested enough in her friends, or maybe I was too interested in her friends because I got into a conversation with one of them that didn't involve her.

Basically, whatever I did was wrong, one way or another.

I thought about what Ellie had said, and replied, "No, not right now."

She sat close to me, closer than she needed to, our thighs almost touching. Ellie was an adult and she could do what she wanted, but to me, it felt like it would be a little awkward to wear such a tiny bikini. But sometimes wolves have different ideas about nudity, and I knew from Arlie just how different personal space could be with a wolf friend. I didn't mind it with Arlie, but I didn't really love being so close to Ellie all the time. She'd certainly taken to me, though.

"Do you think you will someday?"she asked. Her feet—small, sleek, with nail polished toes—skated back and forth through the water and splashed it.

Probably. But I wasn't looking forward to it, so not anytime soon. I was barely starting to find my emotional balance without worrying about pleasing someone else. I didn't want to worry about trying to blend my life with another person's. I wasn't even looking forward to the first sparks of attraction, the honeymoon period, because what if I picked wrong again? What if I couldn't be trusted to find someone who was good for me?

I hadn't felt the urge to download any dating apps, or meet anyone in person, either. There was nothing I wanted from any woman, at least not yet. Maybe someday I'd be ready for the complexities of dating, or maybe just something easy, like hookups or friends with benefits. I wasn't, not yet. The desire for sex wasn't stronger than the desire for my own space, my own life, and to not be dependent on or answerable to another person. I was my own man.

I didn't want to become one of those curmudgeons who blamed women for everything wrong in my life, but surely not dating for a while wouldn't turn me into that. Maybe I just needed some time alone.

Maybe it was more than that. Maybe Darby had been my one chance at a good long-term relationship, and the end of that spelled the end of anything serious or long-lasting for me. I didn't know yet. I just knew it was better to be alone than live like that, the constant turmoil, the low-grade pain of existing in a relationship where I was never good enough.

"Dunno," was all I said.

"You could always date me," said Ellie.

I looked at her. She looked back at me, squinting against the sunlight. Her tanned face was cute, roundish, cheerful and expressive. Right now the expression was one of smiling awkwardness, a little embarrassed, a little excited.

"We get along, right?"she said, half apologetic, half hopeful.

"Not like that, though," I pointed out. "You're a lot younger than me, Ellie. And I just don't see you like that."

She looked down, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm not that young."

"You're what, twenty? That's really young."