Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hunter
Elliot wraps his arms around my thigh and holds on so tightly that when I go to move, he gets dragged out of bed slightly.
“I don’t want you to go,” he pleads, his voice still thick from sleep and eyes shut.
“I have to go to work now, baby,” I say around a quiet laugh, running my fingers through his sleep-tousled hair.
He had a game last night against Vegas and didn’t get home until close to midnight.
Then he was so wired from getting a shutout, he didn’t fall asleep until at least 3:00 a.m., so it didn’t come as a surprise when he slept through my alarm, the shower, and me getting dressed, only waking up when I went to kiss him goodbye.
“Boomer’s here to see you,” I tell him, waving the dog over, who’s standing in the doorway.
Boomer’s warmed up to me a lot in the last few days since Elliot brought him home.
I doubt he remembers me from the day of the fire, but I like to think he knew it was me and has realized I’m a safe person.
Plus, Elliot had a game in Columbus the other night, so it was just the two of us, and Boomer jumped on the couch and curled up next to me.
I immediately took a photo and sent it to Elliot.
OMG he loves you!! he had texted back.
We’ve been buds ever since.
“What have you got planned for today? Do you have to go anywhere?” I ask, still running my fingers through his hair in hopes he’ll loosen his grip on my leg, because damn, he’s strong even when he’s tired.
“Nope,” he mumbles. “Off day.”
“Well, why don’t I text you later, and you can come to the firehouse for lunch? You could bring Boomer, and we’ll sit him in the cab.”
Elliot’s head whips up, his sleepy eyes widening a fraction. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s my turn to cook, and I was going to make those chicken and mozzarella wraps you like.”
He finally lets my leg go and sits up. The duvet drops to his lap, exposing his sexy, naked body. My eyes travel the length of him, my tongue darting out to lick over my lips.
“Lieutenant, are you checking me out?” he smirks.
“Mhm,” I hum, locking my gaze with him. “I’m wondering if I should call in sick and have you for lunch instead.”
“Oh, don’t tease me with a good time.” He grins and flops back into the pillows. He yawns, twisting his body in a stretch before slumping back into the mattress. He holds his hand out and beckons me. “Come here. Kiss me already.”
I bend over him, but he places his hand on my chest, halting me halfway.
“I’m gonna warn you, though, I have morning breath.”
“I don’t care,” I whisper, wrapping my hand around his wrist.
I close the gap between us and kiss him. He traces his tongue along my lips before slipping into my mouth. I groan, my cock thickening behind my zipper. He’s wearing a pleased smile when I stand back, and Boomer chooses that moment to come over and lie down at the side of the bed.
“I’ll text you around noon,” I promise.
His eyes flash with heat as I adjust my semi, his lips tipping in a smirk.
“I’ll be waiting, Lieutenant.” He says the last word in a seductive whisper.
I groan again. “You are evil.”
He blows me a kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“You look really hot in those pants! Can’t wait to take them off you tomorrow,” he calls out as I leave the room, and I’m still wearing my smile when I reach the station.
I’m making a cup of coffee when movement on the security camera TV catches my attention.
Mug in hand, I walk out into the app bay, and my steps falter when I see Blaine.
His hands are stuffed in his coat pockets, a beanie pulled low on his head.
When his eyes land on me, a flicker of relief crosses his face.
“Hey, Blaine. What’s up?” I ask, trying to keep the concern out of my voice as I close the distance.
What’s he doing here?
“Hey,” he says, his eyes darting around the station. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”
“Sure, let’s go up to my office.” I motion to the stairs that lead to the mezzanine. “Do you want a drink?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m good.”
I lead him up the stairs and into my office, closing the door behind him because I don’t trust O’Connor not to eavesdrop.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, taking a seat on the edge of my desk.
Blaine leans against the closed door, tipping his head back until it hits the wood with an audible thud.
“I feel like I failed him,” he says, voice cracking. “He’s been silently struggling his entire life, and I should have noticed. He’s my twin, for fuck’s sake. I should have noticed.”
Ah. I had a feeling he might be taking Elliot’s diagnosis harder than Elliot himself.
In the time I’ve gotten to know him, Blaine is incredibly protective of his brother and would do anything for him.
Plus, Alex mentioned Blaine was quite upset when he found out how Elliot had been feeling since their wedding.
It seems the two of them have been struggling to find a new normal and not be so codependent.
So, it doesn’t come as a surprise to hear Blaine also believes he’s failed Elliot with his diagnosis too.
“I don’t think you failed him, Blaine. I’m not a professional at this, and I can’t speak for him, but he didn’t know either until I put my foot in it with my assumption.
You need to remember you were young too.
It’s not down to you to pick up when your brother needed support when you were a child yourself. ”
I leave off the fact that I believe it was his parents who failed him, because I know Elliot has already spoken to his mom and given her some hard truths. She was mortified when he explained how her actions had made him feel since he was a kid.
Blaine lets out a shaky breath. “I thought that’s just how he was, you know?”
“It is how he is, though. There’s nothing wrong with him.
He isn’t something that needs to be fixed.
His brain processes things differently to us, and there’s some things he needs more support with than someone who’s neurotypical.
But it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him,” I say, my tone coming out a little harsher than I intended.
“I know. I didn’t mean it like that.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. His head drops forward, shoulders slouching in defeat. “I can’t help but wonder if he would’ve found things easier if he had received this diagnosis earlier. Would it have helped him feel less alone?”
“I mean, yeah, probably, but you can’t think like that. Living in the past isn’t healthy. Trust me, I know.”
He’s silent, and I give him the chance to let my words sink in before adding, “Why don’t you and Alex come over tomorrow for dinner? I think it would be good for you and Elliot to talk to each other.”
He rolls his lips together, and when he raises his head, his eyes are glassy.
“I get why you’re feeling the way you are, but I can promise you, he doesn’t believe for a second that you failed him,” I reassure him, and he gives a small nod.
Pushing myself off the desk, I shove my hands in my pockets and ask, “Why don’t you stay for lunch?
Elliot’s going to come over with Boomer. ”
“Uh, yeah, okay. Only if you’re sure?”
“Positive.” I nod once and smile. “You can help me get it ready.”
Blaine follows me back down the stairs and into the kitchen. O’Connor makes a shocked noise when he realizes who I’m with, scrambling to get up from the armchair.
“Hey, man,” he says, thrusting his hand out. “I’m a big fan.”
I point the packet of cheese at him. “No. None of that.”
Blaine chuckles. “Nice to meet you.”
O’Connor makes himself at home on the stool at the island while I get Blaine chopping up the lettuce for the wraps.
I put the breaded chicken fillets in the oven, then make the sauce.
By the time I’m done chopping up the fillets, Elliot walks through the station doors with his hood up and coat zipper done up so high you can only see his nose and eyes.
Blaine snorts when he spots him. “Are you trying to be a snowman?”
“It’s fucking cold out there,” Elliot protests, then holds up his mitten-covered hand. “You can’t see, but I’m flipping you off.”
Boomer sniffs everything as Elliot walks toward the kitchen. He hands his brother the leash, then stands in front of me. I reach up and pull on the zipper of his coat down to his throat, then push off his hood. The top of his cheeks and nose are pink from the chill.
“Hi.” He smiles up at me.
“Hi,” I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
O’Connor lets out a loud wolf whistle, and I raise my hand to flip him off without looking.
Elliot shakes off his mittens and removes his backpack and coat, then sidles up next to me. “Want my help?”
“No, I’m nearly done, but thank you,” I say, turning my head to give him another kiss before serving up the wraps. “O’Connor, go tell everyone lunch is ready.”
He salutes me, then jumps off the stool in search of the others.
We eat lunch around the table without any interruptions, then I leave the probie to tidy up. Blaine follows us as we walk around to the driver’s side of the rig, and I open the door.
“Wait, I have something,” Elliot says, handing me Boomer’s leash before jogging back toward the kitchen. He returns a minute later with a children’s plastic firefighter helmet.
“Here we go!” He holds it up, and I laugh.
“And you want him to wear that?” I ask.
“Yep.” He beams.
Shaking my head, I bend down and pick Boomer up. I climb the first step and put him behind the wheel. When I step down, Elliot lets out an excited squawk.
“Ahhh, so fucking cute,” he coos, climbing up to put the helmet on him.
Boomer sits there like the well-behaved dog he is, and when he sticks his tongue out, it looks like he’s smiling. Elliot takes about a hundred photos before Blaine suggests, “Why don’t I take one of the three of you?”