A Graphically Designed Holiday by Ren Holly

Author:Ren Holly [Holly, Ren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64405-791-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2019-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

THE MULLED wine only lasted the first two blocks of Eli’s walk home, and then he had to stop by the liquor store for bourbon—the good stuff. It was his turn to wallow in self-pity. The only thing missing was company for commiseration, but it was complicated when the preferred company was also the reason for commiseration. Eli took another healthy swig. He had meant to wait until he got home, but somehow the bottle that was in his pocket ended up in his hand, and it was already half gone.

Lincoln is perfect, he reflected for perhaps the millionth time. Perfectly out of my reach.

Before Eli could berate himself further, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and squinted at the caller. His father. Shit.

He couldn’t ignore it again. The old man was so stubborn, he’d probably start the call pattern over from the beginning, and it would take another six months to regain normalcy.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” said his father gruffly. “Why do you answer like you don’t know who’s calling?”

Eli sighed.

“What’s wrong with you? Have a bad day?”

“It was equal parts perfection and torment,” Eli slurred.

“Are you drunk?” Eli could almost see his father’s surprised expression.

“Bourbon happens to the best of us….”

“Why did it happen to you?” How very like his no-nonsense father to cut past all of the bullshit and head straight for the meat of the problem.

“The meat is rancid.” Eli jumbled his thoughts with his words. “It’s from college. It actually went bad from the beginning—”

“What meat?”

“It’s not real meat.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The guy I’ve been pining over since college doesn’t like me,” Eli blurted. He hadn’t meant to tell his father. It would be terribly awkward, but who else could he talk to? Lincoln, his usual confidant, was the source of the problem.

“Oh,” said his father after a moment of prolonged silence.

“You asked.” Eli stumbled into the lobby of his apartment building. The bottle was nearly empty.

“Yes I did…. How do you know he doesn’t like you?”

“He asked me to help him make an online dating profile,” Eli babbled. “He wants to find a boyfriend that’s anyone but me.”

“Did he say that explicitly?”

“Does he need to?” Eli fumbled with the elevator buttons. “Would you ask someone that you like to help you—”

“Okay, okay. You’re probably right.” His father paused awkwardly. “Forget about him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Eli was rendered speechless. He stood stock-still with his key dangling from the apartment door. His father had never been one to coddle or soothe. He was brusque and short-spoken. Facts always outweighed emotion. Eli couldn’t even remember the last time they had talked about something personal, something other than aerospace engineering. It was nice.

“In fact,” his father continued, “if that’s how it’s done these days, why don’t you just build your own dating website?”

“I won’t find anyone better than Lincoln here.”

“Then why don’t you look for someone here? You know I’ll always have a room for you. Houston is a bustling metropolis, a metaphorical pond full of fish.

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