Chapter 6 Protective Instincts #2
Life continued.
Yet something had changed.
At least for Damon.
Because now he was standing beside Elliot's table like some overprotective idiot who had crossed an entire restaurant to rescue a grown man from an unpleasant conversation.
The realization wasn't exactly flattering.
"You can sit down, you know."
Elliot's voice broke through his thoughts.
Damon blinked.
"What?"
The younger man gestured toward the empty seat across from him.
"You look weird standing there."
Despite himself, Damon laughed.
A short, surprised sound.
The tension eased slightly.
"That's your concern right now?"
"Mostly."
Damon shook his head.
The kid was unbelievable.
Still, after a moment's hesitation, he slid into the booth.
Just for a minute.
Long enough to make sure Wayne stayed gone.
That was the reason.
Nothing else.
Elliot smiled.
A small victory apparently.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
"Thank you."
The sincerity in his voice immediately made Damon uncomfortable.
"You didn't need to do that."
"I know."
The younger man blinked.
"Then why did you?"
Damon reached for the simplest answer.
"Wayne's an idiot."
"Fair."
The corner of Elliot's mouth twitched.
"He gets worse when he's drinking."
"So I've noticed."
Damon nodded.
That should have ended the conversation.
Instead, Elliot continued watching him.
Thoughtfully.
Curiously.
As though trying to solve a puzzle.
Damon knew that look.
People often studied him when they thought he wasn't paying attention.
Trying to reconcile rumors with reality.
Trying to figure out who Damon Blackwell actually was.
Most eventually settled for whatever version made the most sense to them.
Elliot didn't seem satisfied with easy answers.
That made him different.
And somehow, more dangerous.
"You okay?"
The question caught Damon off guard.
"What?"
"You look tired."
For a moment, he simply stared.
Nobody asked him questions like that.
Not anymore.
Most people saw the size.
The tattoos.
The rough exterior.
They assumed strength meant invulnerability.
The idea that someone might look at him and see exhaustion instead felt strangely intimate.
"I'm fine."
Elliot raised an eyebrow.
The expression clearly suggested he didn't believe him.
Unfortunately, he was probably right.
The last few weeks had been exhausting.
Work never slowed down.
Sleep remained inconsistent.
And lately, there was the additional complication of a certain art student occupying entirely too much space in his thoughts.
Not that Damon intended to admit that.
Ever.
"You don't have to pretend all the time."
The statement landed unexpectedly.
Damon frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Elliot looked down at the table briefly.
As though choosing his words carefully.
"It just seems exhausting."
"What does?"
The younger man met his gaze again.
"Being the guy everybody expects you to be."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Accurate.
Damon wasn't sure which part bothered him most.
Because somehow, despite knowing him only a short time, Elliot had noticed something most people missed.
The reputation.
The expectations.
The assumptions.
Over time, Damon had learned to live with them.
Sometimes it felt easier than fighting.
If people expected a grumpy roughneck, fine.
If they expected silence, fine.
If they expected distance, even better.
The act became habit.
The habit became normal.
The problem was that occasionally someone looked beyond it.
And that always complicated things.
Like now.
"You think you know me?"
The question came out rougher than intended.
Elliot didn't flinch.
"No."
Good answer.
Honest.
"But I think most people don't either."
That answer was worse.
Because part of Damon agreed.
The younger man looked away.
Almost embarrassed.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
"I wasn't trying to be rude."
The apology surprised him.
Most people doubled down.
Argued.
Defended themselves.
Elliot simply apologized if he thought he'd crossed a line.
Another dangerous quality.
The list kept growing.
Damon leaned back against the booth.
For a few moments, neither spoke.
The silence felt easier this time.
Comfortable.
Which was becoming a problem in itself.
Across the room, a waitress refilled coffee cups.
Country music drifted softly through the diner.
Outside, evening sunlight painted the windows gold.
The ordinary scene somehow felt different.
Smaller.
More personal.
As though the rest of the world had faded slightly.
Damon didn't particularly like that.
"How's the youth center?"
The question escaped before he could stop it.
Elliot brightened immediately.
The transformation was remarkable.
One second thoughtful.
The next practically glowing.
"Weirdly amazing."
Damon found himself smiling.
"Weirdly?"
"I wasn't sure I'd be any good at it."
"And?"
The younger man laughed softly.
"The kids seem to like me."
"I'm shocked."
The sarcasm earned him a playful look.
"I'm being serious."
"So am I."
Elliot rolled his eyes.
The gesture felt unexpectedly familiar.
Comfortable.
As if they'd known each other much longer than they actually had.
"The kids are great," Elliot continued.
"They've been through a lot."
Something softened in his expression.
"Sometimes they just need somebody to believe in them."
The words settled heavily.
Because Damon understood exactly what he meant.
People often underestimated the power of being believed in.
Someone had once done that for him.
Years ago.
When he'd barely deserved it.
Without that second chance, he honestly wasn't sure where he would have ended up.
Probably nowhere good.
"You're good with them."
The statement wasn't really a question.
Elliot looked surprised.
"You've never seen me teach."
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
Damon considered the answer.
Because it felt obvious.
The younger man listened.
He noticed things.
He cared.
People like that usually connected well with others.
Especially kids.
Especially wounded ones.
"You pay attention."
Elliot blinked.
The compliment seemed to catch him off guard.
Heat touched his cheeks.
Cute.
The thought arrived suddenly.
Uninvited.
Completely unacceptable.
Damon immediately shoved it away.
Unfortunately, not before noticing it.
Which made everything worse.
He looked toward the window.
Anywhere except directly at Elliot.
The younger man thankfully seemed unaware.
Good.
Because Damon was becoming increasingly aware of a problem he didn't know how to solve.
Every conversation made things harder.
Every shared laugh.
Every quiet moment.
Every glimpse beneath the surface.
The attraction itself wasn't the issue.
Damon was old enough to recognize attraction.
Old enough to manage it.
The real danger was everything else.
The admiration.
The respect.
The connection.
Those things lasted.
Those things mattered.
And they were growing.
Fast.
Too fast.
As if sensing the shift in his mood, Elliot's expression softened.
"You don't have to keep pushing me away."
Damon froze.
The statement landed with uncomfortable precision.
Of course Elliot noticed.
The kid noticed everything.
"What makes you think I am?"
A look.
Just a look.
Patient.
Knowing.
Honest.
The answer felt obvious.
Because it was.
Damon exhaled slowly.
"I told you before."
"Because of your past?"
Partly.
Not entirely.
The younger man waited.
The silence stretched.
Damon searched for words.
Found none he trusted.
How was he supposed to explain something he barely understood himself?
How was he supposed to explain that the closer Elliot got, the more dangerous everything felt?
Not because of who Elliot was.
Because of what Damon wanted.
Things he had no business wanting.
Not from someone twenty-one years old.
Not from Roy's nephew.
Not from a man with an entire future ahead of him.
The realization settled heavily.
Familiar.
Unwelcome.
Necessary.
"Elliot."
The younger man looked up.
Damon held his gaze.
Long enough to make sure he understood.
"This is dangerous territory."
Confusion flickered across Elliot's face.
Then understanding followed.
Not complete understanding.
But enough.
The air between them changed.
Something unspoken lingered.
Something neither dared name.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Neither looked away.
The emotional tension stretched tight between them.
Invisible.
Powerful.
Terrifying.
Then a waitress appeared carrying the check.
The moment shattered.
Reality rushed back.
Damon stood immediately.
Too quickly.
Creating distance.
Needing distance.
He tossed cash onto the table and stepped away from the booth.
"Eating your burger would probably help."
Elliot laughed.
The sound followed him.
Warm.
Dangerous.
Memorable.
As Damon headed toward the exit, one uncomfortable truth echoed through his mind.
He'd spent weeks trying to stay away from Elliot Hayes.
Trying to create boundaries.
Trying to maintain control.
Instead, every conversation seemed to pull them closer.
And for the first time since they'd met, Damon wasn't sure he was strong enough to stop it.
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