Chapter Thirteen
Uninvited Guests and Unexpected Reactions
Nick
This is peak stalker behavior, not that I wasn’t already steadily climbing towards it. But that was in the privacy of my own car, no one knew. Other than Matt, but he doesn’t count. The guy already knows too much about me to be surprised.
But this was definitely a step forward to the insanity that was my new mission.
What could I do, though? It was this or taking Mickey to Elliot’s clinic again.
That would have been worse because it would have been too transparent.
Well, not exactly transparent because Elliot didn’t know why I was seeking him out.
Here, I could easily pretend I was visiting my lovely brother and his fiancé.
I even have the perfect surprised face that I practiced for the surprise birthday party my friends tried to throw me, even though they were the most obvious bunch of people on the planet.
I mean, who accidentally emails the e-vite to the surprisee? You had one task, Sloan.
It's too late now. I take another breath and hit the bell again.
Matt opens the door with a scowl on his face that melts into a smile when he spots Mickey, but comes right back on when our eyes meet. “C’mon, dude,” he sighs.
“What, were you busy or something?” I pretend to be confused.
He rolls his eyes. Mickey tugs on the leash, and I drop it. He runs inside, forcing Matt to open the door, and jumps on Elliot, who’s sitting on the couch. He yanks his wine glass out of the way just before he’s trampled.
Elliot smiles widely, scratching Mickey.
“What are you doing here?” he asks the big guy.
Elliot is above cooing. But his voice is the warmest I’ve ever heard.
His eyes sparkle with affection, and that smile makes him look young, almost hiding the tired look in his face.
His eyebrows, which are typically bunched in a frown, are free and relaxed.
He looks especially mouthwatering in his black trousers and salmon T-shirt that—
Matt clears his throat loudly. “Were you planning to come in or…” He’s clearly laughing at me, but at least he has the courtesy to keep it inside.
I shove his shoulder lightly on my way inside. Elliot looks up from where he now has a Large-Completely-Unaware-Of-His-Size-Mickey on his lap. “Nicholas,” he nods at me, his face completely neutral.
“Elliot,” I nod back instead of whining ‘why didn’t you answer my text’ at his face like I wanted to.
Oliver clears his throat.
“I didn’t know you guys had plans today,” I explain.
Oliver rolls his eyes. My brother is clearly rubbing off on sweet Oliver. Or it can be Elliot. God, Oliver was destined for the dark side, wasn’t he?
“If you insist, I’ll stay,” I say, saving him the trouble of convincing me. I make myself at home on the empty couch opposite Elliot.
Oliver sighs. “I was going to save you some leftovers anyway,” he says. Not all the way to the dark side then? Good to know.
I smile at him, and his glower turns into a smile while Elliot looks at me with a neutral expression that’s worse than a glare and Matt with a literal glare. Tough crowd.
“So what were we talking about?” I prompt.
“You, coincidentally,” Oliver says, but snaps his mouth shut, probably realizing that information is definitely going to my head.
I smile wider, turning to Elliot just in time to catch the color rising up his face. “What were you telling them about me? Everything good, I hope?”
He scoffs. “Don’t worry,” he waves his hand.
“It wasn’t me. Matt was saying something about how LA’s finest are a bunch of brawny manchilds trying to live their Raymond Chandler fantasy tripping on ego and donuts,” he says, patting Mickey’s fur in a continuous slow motion and looking like a sexy villain right out of a Disney show.
I burst out laughing. Oliver, Matt, and Mickey’s heads snap to mine. Elliot's lips quirk up, but he doesn’t look up. ”Oh, Matt said that, did he? Just so you know, Matt’s style is more light, teasing sarcasm, not total psychological evisceration," I inform Elliot.
Elliot narrows his eyes in contemplation, then nods.
“I can be mean,” Matt argues.
I look at him doubtfully.
“I’m not a pro or anything,” he gestures towards Elliot. “But I’ve scared a lot of people,” he says.
“That might be just your face and the whole brute thing you've got going on,” Elliot points at Matt's whole appearance with his palm.
Matt turns to Oliver as if he will tell him he’s a big meany. The guy adores him to the bones. “I mean, you are a softy on the inside,” Oliver says.
Matt rolls his eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“So, what are we having for dinner?” I ask.
The sooner this party ends, the sooner I can get Elliot alone for a temperature check.
We’re not going to be serious or anything lame like that, but it was an okay date.
He can’t ignore me. My theory is that he was busy, and we’ll talk and schedule something for next week. I still have questions, damnit.
We sit at a dining table that Matt and Oliver have in their apartment for some reason. No one has ever used it until today.
They have gone all out on today’s dinner, so they clearly had an agenda for the night. Matt is not that generous. Neither is Oliver.
But I’ve singlehandedly hampered whatever it was because no one is saying anything while we pile our plates with all the delicious goodness. Maybe Oliver decided to play Cupid, and this was a ‘talk Nick up’ dinner?
Matt has obviously not told Oliver about my real intentions with Elliot, and the last time we talked about it, Oliver was partially delighted and only a little bit horrified by the idea of me dating Elliot.
He was worried about me. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so sweet of him. Matt was worried about me, too. I know because he kept telling me. He even went so far as to suggest seeing a psychologist. Funny guy.
I just need to talk to Elliot, and it’ll be alright.
He’s so close that the spicy-sweet scent floods my senses, warmth spreading where our legs almost brush under the table. The tiny gap is so charged, I’m fighting the urge to move my leg to close the distance.
“I heard about the murder of your show’s lead. Were you guys close?” Elliot asks Oliver, his voice even.
“Not really, no. But he was nice the few times we ran into each other. The place has definitely not been the same since, though. It’s like everyone is collectively grieving the loss, whether we knew him personally or not,” he says, slowly.
This could be a good segue to ask Elliot about something werewolf-related.
I even have witnesses. But the shame and anxiety of the unsolved case consume me so suddenly, my hand tightens on my fork.
Even with the new werewolf angle, we are nowhere close to the truth.
I talked to Cami’s sister again yesterday, but she’s sure Nate didn’t know about us.
Over the years, we’ve heard about secret groups of werewolf supporters as well as haters cropping up, but we’ve never had any confirmation.
With the Bureau stretched thin, we don't give much heed to it. Maybe it’s something like that this time?
But Isabel was sure Nate wasn’t involved in something like that.
It’s not like I can take my team’s help with—
Elliot’s arm shifts until it presses lightly against mine. My focus settles on that tiny point of contact. “You okay?” he asks, frowning.
I realize I missed the entire conversation happening in front of me. I nod and shove a forkful of lasagna in my mouth.
Elliot leaves his arm there, sipping his wine with his left hand.
“Do we have any updates on the case?” Oliver asks me, in a bid to involve me in the conversation.
But the topic hits me in all the wrong places.
“Not really. We’re still collecting evidence,” I tell him.
He’ll get to hear a lot more about it when I eventually bring my Bureau team in on the case.
It’s definitely heading that way. But I don’t want to do that until I’m sure the investigation needs to go in that direction.
And once I do, Matt will blabber everything to him anyway.
Elliot turns to me. “The body was found at his home, right? There wasn’t a lot of information on the news. Are you guys sure it was murder?”
I nod. “It’s murder, all right.”
“So weird how anyone could do something like this to another human being,” Oliver shakes his head.
“And to an actor from a werewolf show made for teenagers at that,” I stress, keeping an eye on Elliot. It was right there, I had to take it.
But when I look at the people in front of me, Matt has an eyebrow up, and Oliver is glaring at me. Elliot continues to eat. Ugh.
“As if you didn’t binge on the first two seasons last year,” Oliver accuses.
Elliot turns to me then, a smirk firmly in place.
“What? You worked for the show,” I accuse him instead.
He raises his hands in surrender. “I never said it’s a silly show,” he says.
My jaw hangs open.
“Silly show?” Oliver gasps.
“I never said that,” I say quickly. “Tell him I never said that,” I nudge Elliot, poking my finger on his shoulder.
“Ow,” he overreacts. “Why would I lie about that?” he says casually.
“Wow. That’s cruel, Nick,” Matt shakes his head in mock disappointment. When did Elliot and he become so buddy-buddy? “My boyfriend works really hard on those scripts to make good television. Sorry, it’s not up to your standards.”
Oliver narrows his eyes at me.
“Oh my god, you know him,” I point at Elliot. “He’s a menace.”
Oliver turns his glower to Elliot, who just shrugs.
“I’ve binged all the seasons. I lied that I stopped after two,” I admit in an attempt to soothe Oliver. I would never disrespect his work. Besides, it’s a fun watch, in an unserious way.
“You did?” Oliver looks suspicious.