8. Lucas
Lucas
8
Igrab my shirt where it fell on the ground, wiping away the mess of what we'd just done. By the time I’m laying back down, Ezrah is already out cold, a soft snore bubbling up from his lips. I know I’m too far gone when my only thought is how cute it is.
Part of me doesn't understand how we’ve gotten here. Still, I know I should savor this while I can. I pull him against my chest, breathing in the sweet honey and amber scent of his hair. With a contented sigh, I let my eyes rest on the ceiling.
A moment later, the guilt hits me like a tidal wave. I can't believe I just did that. Ezrah is my client. He’s clearly going through a lot and I just…. Fuck how could I do that to him? I didn’t even talk to him about it first.
But the worst part is the echoes of his touch on my skin. It’s like his hands were cut from the same stone my own flesh had been carved from. Like we were meant to fit together. I’d never felt this kind of connection with anyone before, especially not this quickly.
I let my eyes drift back over his sleeping form. He’s so peaceful like this. Gone is the prickly suspicion and defensive anxiety that seems ever-present on him, a mix of armor and affliction. In its place is a look of sweet serenity that makes me want to stroke his hair and kiss his forehead in hopes it will stay for just a little while longer.
I don’t sleep like he does. I know I’ll regret it in the morning, but I can’t bring myself to care. Instead, I just lay there, letting my mind drift, savoring the feeling of him in my arms.
It’s light out when a chirp from his phone startles me from my thoughts. I pick it up off the floor to see if I should wake him. What I see makes my blood run cold.
‘Lesson Learned” is in the notifications at least seven times. “Ezrah,” I give him a light shake, thinking there was only one person who could be saved under that contact name.
With a groan, he stirs. “What is it?”
Wordlessly, I hold out his phone.
He is up in an instant, snatching it from my hands, shoving me off him. “What were you doing with my phone?”
“It went off. I just wanted to see if I should wake you. Why didn’t you tell me he had your number?”
“It's none of your business."
I sit up. "You made it my business when you asked me to protect you!"
He has the decency to look sheepish but quickly hides it behind a scowl. "Whatever. I didn’t even know he did, until today.”
“But why didn’t you tell me when you got the first message?”
“I panicked!” he cuts me off, a frantic edge creeping into his voice. “I went and took a shower, before I was done Delilah cried now we’re here!”
“You should turn your phone off.”
“What? I can't do that. I need it for work."
"You can use your computer. Have people video chat with you instead.”
“Don’t tell me what to do! You shouldn’t even have been looking at my phone.”
“I told you, I wasn’t trying to-”
“Like hell, you weren’t!” Ezrah gets to his feet, snatching the phone from my hand. “Get out!”
“I will but-”
“No. There’s nothing to talk about. What the fuck! I wake up to you going through my phone-”
“I wasn’t going through it. It went off. I was worried.”
He glares.
“Look, I understand how it seemed, and I’ll leave, but I just want you to think about turning it off. I don’t know what resources he has but Allen might be able to track you using your phone.”
He pales, every ounce of anger or frustration falling away leaving open fear in its place. “He- he can do that?”
“I don’t know for sure, but it's possible, and he managed to get your number somehow.”
“Fuck!”
I give him what I hope is a sympathetic face. “I’ll give you some space.”
“Wait-” he grabs my wrist then immediately lets go. “I mean, I don’t think I should-” he cuts himself off. “Forget it.”
I can’t help but smile. “Why don’t we get cleaned up, have some breakfast, and take Dil out for a walk? You haven’t had a chance to use the stroller you got.”
“Fine, it's probably good for her to get some fresh air.” He gets to his feet and starts throwing on some clothes.
A short time later, the three of us are enjoying a leisurely stroll along the only paved path in the forest, trying valiantly to pretend the phone situation never happened. The path has a beautiful view of the lake. The early morning sun painted the sky in soft shades of purples and pinks. I stop, taking a long breath of the crisp air.
“You have to admit, it's a nice place to be stuck.”
“Maybe if I weren’t being held hostage,” he mutters.
“Is that what’s happening? I’m a beast holding you captive?”
His expression kills my jokes on my tongue. “I don’t see much difference between Allen trapping me here or his hounding me at home. Except she doesn’t have to deal with it and I can pretend he’s going to get caught.”
“He will. I promise.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
After a few minutes of silence, I ask, “How’s your writing coming along?”
“Fine,” he says, perhaps a bit too quickly.
“Yeah? That’s good, right? What're you working on?"
"Whatever I feel like. Can't take on any new jobs while this is going on. It's great. I'm working on passion projects and bonding with Dil," he scoffs, crossing his arms.
"Okay, everything you're saying sounds like a good thing but you sound upset."
"Why would I be upset? I'm living the dream! Beautiful house in the countryside, adorable child, handsome-" he cuts himself off shaking his head. "Forget it."
Dil lets out a small noise. Ezrah hesitates a moment, then reaches to scoop her up. The second she’s in his arms, she lets out a wail.
Ezrah jumps, dropping her back in her stroller.
I frown, picking her up and rocking her until she quiets. Ezrah watches me with a tight face.
"Come here.”
I can see he wants to argue, but my tone leaves little room.
"Hold out your arms."
I carefully set her in his waiting arms, moving him to better support her head. “See? You can do this. It just takes a little time to learn what she likes. Getting to know someone isn't that different regardless of how old they are. It's about listening and paying attention.”
"You make it look so easy."
"So will you someday. Give it time."
He sets her back in the stroller, eyes never leaving mine, and then we resume our walk. Neither of us says much to each other. We come to a quiet clearing and let Delilah play in the soft grass until she’s obviously tired and ready for a nap.
The day passes uneventfully. Ezrah works until Delilah wakes up, and we all have lunch. I’m careful to let him take the lead with the baby, and I don’t bring up Allen or the phone again. It seems like he’s being equally careful. While I make dinner, he and Dil play. She’s obviously getting comfortable, and crawling, exploring, and babbling more. She seems like she’s going to be a ball of fire when she settles in and gets completely comfortable.
After dinner, Ezrah puts the baby down for the night and comes to sit in the kitchen. I’m doing the dishes while Ezrah nurses the same glass of white wine he poured for dinner.
“What did you do before this?” he asks.
“I was in the army. Joined at eighteen straight out of high school. Served a few tours.”
He nods like it was what he expected. “Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing I should ask if you liked.”
I laugh. “It's alright. I know what you mean. There were aspects of it I really appreciated. Needed even.”
“Like what?”
“Structure, guidance, community.”
He makes a face.
“What is it?”
"No offense, but how does someone like you end up in the army? You don't seem like the type," he asks, eyes on his glass.
"No? So what type joins?"
He flushes. "You know what I mean. Big. Tough. Everyone who joined where I grew up was an asshole, or a bully, or both.”
"Little bit worried you've got me as your guard and you don't think I'm tough." I laugh. "But I know what you mean. You're right. On my own, I probably wouldn't have joined. I was a legacy brat. My dad was in the army, my grandpa, his dad, back as far as anyone can remember. I never quite lived up to expectations and I thought if I could make it work that would change."
"Did it?"
"No, but I did. I met people who accepted me for who I am, all of who I am. That made it easier to accept myself. Don't get me wrong, I lost some people, but I'm happy. I wouldn’t be where I am now without any of that so it was worth it."
In a voice so small I’m not sure I heard it, Ezrah whispers, "I'm not."
My head jerks up. "What?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing. I should get to my room. Try and get some work done before bed."
"You don't want to finish your wine first?"
He gives me an unhappy look and I’m sure he’s about to storm off, but instead, he sits back down with a cautious look on his face.
I can't ask about his family. Hell, I don't even know how to ask about his life without stepping on a land mine, but I’m happy to just talk at him while he sits there glowering at his drink. For a while, I tell him about my siblings, my friends from service, and my days since returning to civilian life, but eventually, I run out of easy stories.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while until Ezrah growls.
"Fuck it," he slams down the last of his wine in one gulp. "We slept together, what did it mean to you?"
Time freezes on a dime. Fuck. He must be so upset, bringing it up like this. What am I supposed to say to that?