Chapter 10 #2
I step inside and grab a handful of his hoodie.
Without a word, I capture his mouth with mine.
He lets out a small grunt, his hands finding my waist again, just like they did last night.
Taking his face in both hands, I kick the door shut behind me, and he melts like butter when I press him up against the wall.
He smells like eucalyptus and peppermint and tastes like mangoes.
I nip his bottom lip between my teeth, and he lets out a surprised gasp. His fingers dig involuntarily into the soft flesh below my ribs, and it’s the pinch I need to take a breath.
“Hi.” I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It’s still damp from the shower he must have taken at the practice facility. I take off my boots, leaving them by the door.
“Would you like a drink? Or food? I have snacks,” he asks as I follow him down the hall into the spacious open-plan kitchen/living area.
There’s a large sectional couch facing the wall-mounted TV.
A built-in electric fire sits underneath, and floor-to-ceiling windows give a panoramic view of the river.
The couch cushions are deep enough you could easily use them as a bed, and judging by the blankets thrown all over, it’s something Elliot does often.
I smile at the thought.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” I answer, shrugging off my leather jacket and tossing it over one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Did you get home okay?”
He moves to the couch, and I take a seat next to him, noting the four different drinks on the side table behind him.
“Yeah. I ended up going to Blaine’s place. He lives a few floors up, and I brought his dog back here, then we fell asleep on the couch.”
“Ah, so those times I saw you walking a dog, he wasn’t yours?” I ask curiously.
“No,” he laughs quietly, then ducks his chin in a sudden bout of shyness.
His hair creates a curtain around his face, and my fingers itch to brush it back from his face.
“I like to steal him sometimes. I’ve always wanted a dog, but I can barely take care of myself.
So I get my dog fixes with Ernie, and we also have a team dog called Boomer.
He’s a golden retriever, and I make sure to see him every time our PR lady brings him in. ”
“I’m sure you’re not that bad.”
He scoffs. “Oh, I am. I have the same chef as Zach who prepares all my meals so all I need to do is heat them up, but I end up forgetting to actually eat them.” He points in the direction of the fridge.
“Alex made me this calendar where I can mark off when I’ve had my meal, and I have timers on my phone to remind me to eat. ”
I hold back my laughter. Not because it’s funny, as it isn’t.
No. I find it amusing because Elliot reminds me a lot of when Duncan was unmedicated.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
He tugs his sleeves over his hands. “I have to get a lot of help, which I know isn’t normal for people my age. It’s why I shouldn’t get a dog because it wouldn’t be fair.”
I shift in my seat, angling my body toward him. “El?”
“Yeah?”
I reach up, combing my fingers through his blond waves to reveal more of his face.
“Normal is overrated, and the only unfair thing on the dog would be the amount of time you travel. Because while I’ve only known you a little while, I already know you would love it so fucking hard, it would be the luckiest dog in the world.”
A blush creeps onto his cheeks. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip as the corners hitch up in a smile.
Fuck, I love being able to get this kind of reaction out of him. Like he beams at the smallest amount of praise.
“People have told me I’m too much, and I know being too much of something isn’t a good thing. Even the Spice Girls had a song about it.”
I scrub my hand over my mouth, trying to disguise my silent laughter.
“I don’t think you’re too much,” I tell him truthfully.
“I can be really loud too,” he adds, throwing his arms out wide before dropping them into his lap again. “But sometimes, I can be all quiet. It’s usually when I get tired, or I’ve had to be around a lot of people. People think I’m being rude, but I’m not.”
“I understand. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, El. You’re a lot like how my husband, Duncan, was, in a lot of ways.”
He blinks, and I realize my mistake. Fuck. I didn’t intend for it to sound like that. I don’t want Elliot thinking I’m comparing him to Duncan, or using him as a replacement. While they have similar traits, they are different.
Worrying he’ll take my comment the wrong way, I open my mouth to tell him, but then he shocks me as he sits cross-legged, angling his body to face me and asks, “Will you tell me about him?”
“Duncan?”
He nods.
“Yeah, sure. We met in high school. He was super artistic, always sketching something, and he would take part in programs that combined history with art. He also had this magnetic personality. Whenever he walked into a room, he made it so much brighter.”
“He sounds fun.”
“He was, and when I mentioned I was considering enlisting in the Navy, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He told me to do it, and he’d follow me wherever I went and support me in whatever I wanted to do.”
“He sounds like a really great partner. It’s important to have someone supportive like that.” Elliot smiles, but it’s hinted with sadness because he knows this story doesn’t end well.
“Duncan was incredible. He stayed true to his word and supported me through everything. The sudden deployments, being gone months on end, sometimes going without contact.” I swallow the lump in my throat and lower my head.
I don’t want to see the pity in Elliot’s eyes when I tell him the next part.
“He passed while I was deployed. I didn’t find out until days later.
It turns out there was a faulty wire in one of our power blocks and it overloaded.
He’d been out at a bar with some of our friends, put his phone on charge then passed out before the fire started.
The investigator told me he died from smoke inhalation, so he wasn’t even aware.
Which I guess is a blessing, in a way, but I found out later, the batteries in our smoke detectors were dead…
” My throat thickens as the heavy weight of my emotions takes hold.
I haven’t had this conversation with anyone since I came to Chicago and moved in with Walt.
I drop my head and squeeze my eyes shut.
“I forgot to check them before I left. If I had just taken five minutes to check them over…” I trail off, letting the rest go unsaid.
“You blame yourself,” he says without judgment.
I nod solemnly. “Yeah, I do.”
He scoots forward on the couch until he’s sitting in front of me.
He grasps my jaw in both hands and tilts my head up until I’m looking into those big green eyes.
They swirl with so much emotion. Empathy, care, the weight of my own hurt being reflected back to me.
He brushes his thumb over my stubble, and the simple touch grounds me.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I… I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like, but I know it wasn’t your fault, Hunter. You can’t carry the blame around on your shoulders. And by the sounds of it, Duncan wouldn’t want you feeling sad either.”
I let out a small, choked laugh. “He wouldn’t. He’d probably sit on me and make me watch bad movies.”
“I can sit on you,” he offers with a wide grin. “I don’t know about the bad movies part, though, because I normally get distracted with something else within the first half hour, but I can try for you.”
For you.
I feel his words in my chest like a physical thing. Elliot is special. A one in a million. He’s the guy with the kindest soul who cares so deeply, he wears his heart on his sleeve and gets upset over the thought of doing something wrong to those he loves.
I really don’t deserve him. I’ve seen and done things in my life that would cause him to look at me differently. Sure, it was my job at the time, and those things are kept highly classified. But it’s still in my mind, and I have nightmares to go along with it.
I’m tired of torturing myself. Tired of this lonely existence of a life. Maybe it’s time to be a little selfish and take what I want for a change.
So, I lean forward and take his lips in a kiss.
His hands drop to my neck, the tips of his fingers dancing with the strands of my hair.
Almost like he wants to bury them, but he’s not quite sure of himself.
I nudge one of his elbows, causing his hand to sink further into my hair.
I smile against his lips at the moment he tightens his grip, anchoring himself.
Deepening the kiss, I slide my tongue into his mouth, and he responds with a moan. Fuck. I’m so gone for this guy.
Slipping my hands around his waist, I lift him slightly and move until he’s lying on his back without pulling away from his mouth.
I settle between his legs, making sure not to press all of my weight into him.
Our tongues tangle, teeth clicking as the kiss turns hungry.
We only part when we’re both gasping for breath, and I trail my lips across his jaw and down his neck.
“Do you wanna stay?” he asks breathlessly.
I push myself up on an elbow to look down at him. “The night?”
“Yeah. But not for, like, sex,” he quickly adds, and then his eyes go comically wide, and the sight makes me smile.
“Not that I don’t want to have sex with you.
I mean, maybe one day, but not today. Just for cuddles and maybe kissing, but sleep, too, because sleep is good.
Ugh.” He groans and rolls his face into the cushion beside him. “I wish I could shut up sometimes.”
With my free hand, I take his chin between my forefinger and thumb and angle his head toward me. His eyes are screwed shut, and his cheeks are flushed with a mix of arousal and embarrassment.
“Hey, look at me.” My words are soft and quiet rather than an order. He slowly opens his eyes, and I brush my thumb over that plush fucking lip.
“I don’t wish you’d shut up. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable doing. I get it, okay?”
He nods, my thumb still gliding over his lower lip.
“I’ll stay if you want.” The second those three words leave my tongue, I want to take them back. His face falls, and I’m quick to reassure him. “I didn’t mean it like that. I do want to stay. But I don’t want to get in the way of your routines.”
He shakes his head. “You won’t. I’d tell you if I needed something.”
“Good boy,” I murmur barely above a whisper, letting the thoughts in my mind slip.
He fucking shivers beneath me at those two words.
Fuck. Me. He’s going to be the death of me.