“. . . Okay.”

“And send me a selfie once you’re inside so I know you didn’t get abducted by aliens between the time we hang up and you walk inside, okay?”

“I can’t believe you’re angling for a selfie at a time like this.”

“Eliot!”

“Just teasing you. Okay. You’re right. I’ll go inside and take care of myself. You finish your jog. I’ll send you the pic.”

“Sleep well, Eliot.”

“Sleep well, JD.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jessie

The next morning I find myself looking at Eliot’s selfie for probably the nine hundredth time. It’s blurry and unflattering and the lighting is terrible. He’s on his back, tucked into what looks like a couch, giving me a crooked thumbs-up. I couldn’t love it more.

The tone of his voice last night sits in my memory like a cactus, pricking me from every side. He was so upset. And he wanted comfort. From his friend. Who he’s obviously come to care about.

He wants more. With me.

And I can’t give it. I can never be the person who walks into the bar and gives him that feeling. I can’t even tell him that he doesn’t have to explain why he was triggered last night.

It’s been a hell of a few days at work so I ask Pops’s friend Carl if he could be on call for me. He agrees immediately and I’m relieved. If anybody needs anything for the next couple of hours, I’ll just pass the message on to Carl. With that said and done I grab my helmet and get on my bike. It’s just a touch too warm for my leather jacket and pants, but when I built the motorcycle, Pops made me promise that I’d never ride it without leather. In case of an accident, leather is the safest protection that anyone could be wearing, and it was an easy promise to make. Once I start riding, the breeze cools me down anyhow.

I have to fight traffic until I get out toward the ocean, but then it’s smooth sailing. I cruise the last stretch of Flatbush until it turns into the Marine Parkway Bridge and then I’m hit full in the face with fresh, salty air. The sun is diamond-bright against the water and I’m glad I wore my helmet with the sun-visor.