Chapter 7 #2
My blush deepened, and I chuckled sheepishly as I rubbed the back of my neck. The movement just made Elliot’s attention shift to my flexing bicep, and his eyes flared with heat.
“Even though you have to work with Brett, I hope you keep working there.” He dragged his gaze off my arm and back to my face to smile at me.
“I will,” I told him eagerly. “I mean, I hope to. I like it there.” I liked him. I liked working with him, even if we weren’t in the same kitchen. I liked knowing I could step out of the kitchen and bump into him. I liked knowing he was just on the other side of the wall.
I just liked him. I wanted to be near him.
“You’re doing great,” he reassured me. “Liz likes you, so you’re all good.”
I grinned. “Sweet. Yeah, I noticed Liz isn’t around all that much, but I’m guessing we just don’t see her in my kitchen because she… has the same condition, right?”
Elliot’s pale eyes shifted to the side, like he was suddenly interested in watching something I couldn’t spot across the bar. “Uh-huh. Yep.”
I fiddled with the label on my beer bottle, picking at the peeling edge, which was damp with condensation. “What are the guys in your kitchen like?”
His lip curled a little. “Eh, mostly fine. Johnny can be an asswipe most of the time, and Paul’s kind of a snake. Likes to gossip, you know? But other than that…” He shrugged, seeming mostly unbothered about it.
I nodded in understanding. “Do you hang out with them outside of work?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Hell no. Even though we’re all—”
When he cut himself off abruptly and looked away again with a tiny frown, I hesitantly offered, “Similar in age and stuff?”
He was probably going to mention the fact that they all had the same medical condition, but that wasn’t a reason they had to hang out. People could share similarities but still clash, and it sounded like the other two guys in the special kitchen were kind of bogus.
“Uh, yeah.” Elliot rubbed his cheek, then seemed to recover as he leaned in and gave me a big, toothy grin.
A little like a wild animal that had just finished eyeing up its prey and was realizing it was about to have a very tasty meal.
I shivered under that smile, under the intensity of his pale eyes.
“You’re the only guy I want to hang out with outside of work. ”
I grinned back, feeling a zing of excitement when his foot shifted against mine, pressing a little harder. “No way.”
He laughed. “Yes way.”
I bit my lip to try and stop my smile becoming ludicrously big. Embarrassingly big. Maybe it was totally lame of me to be this happy about having the attention of a guy I’d only met a week ago. In my defense, he was also the first guy I’d ever kissed. And the first guy to ever suck my dick.
And he was so unbelievably hot, and chill, and just generally rad.
No wonder I was eagerly soaking up every tiny scrap of attention from him.
“Me too,” I told him, my cheeks heating at the admission, even though it made him grin, looking beyond pleased. Then I made a face. “But Brett does keep asking me to hang out. Like, every single shift.”
Elliot’s nose wrinkled. “Grody.”
“Yeah. He’s weirdly determined.”
“It’s not weird. You’re legit. And totally hot, even if Brett definitely isn’t in, you know”—he tilted his beer bottle between us—“our camp. He’s probably still noticed.”
I nodded, flushing with pleasure. I liked sharing something so important yet so fundamental with Elliot. We understood each other in a way I hadn’t really experienced with anyone else I’d spent extended time with.
He made me feel seen. More like a real person. Less alone.
When Elliot laughed, I cocked my head questioningly. He pointed at me with his bottle again and teasingly said, “Glad you’re not gonna fight me on how hot you are, because it’s a total waste of our time.”
I blushed, realizing my eager nod had made it seem like I was agreeing with him about that part. “Oh man, no, I—”
“Ricky.” Elliot lowered his voice and leaned in again, his pale eyes drifting down to my mouth, then lower. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met, and all I can think about is kissing you again, so don’t argue with me about it. ’Kay?”
I stared at him in breathless silence for a moment. When my tongue darted out to wet my lips, Elliot’s long, narrow fingers tightened around his beer bottle.
“I… I can’t stop thinking about that either,” I told him quietly.
His nostrils flared and he stared at me in silence for a few moments, giving me that intense stare that I knew others found creepy, but I didn’t.
His pale eyes bored into mine, the shadows under them looking even deeper and heavier in the low lighting of the bar.
It made his face appear more gaunt, highlighting all the narrow, angular planes of it.
He brought his bottle to his lips and tipped it back, gulping down the last of his beer. Then he set it down on the table with a decisive thud and looked at me again. “Want to go for a walk on the beach?”
My beer was only half-finished, but I pushed it away immediately and rose from the table, my heart already pounding with anticipation. “Yes.”