Chapter 23 #2
I shift my gaze to Elliot, and his face lights up. He climbs up the first two steps, putting him on level with Boomer, and I take the first step. Blaine drags over a chair to stand on, and we smile as he takes our photo.
I hand Elliot the hat before I scoop Boomer up in my arms and put him back on the floor. Blaine shows us the photo, and my breath hitches at the sight of us. All three of us look so fucking happy.
If you had told me three months ago the guy I would rescue from a broken-down elevator would become my entire world, I would have laughed in your face.
And yet here we are, so fucking in love, and now we have a dog.
But the thought is put on hold because it wouldn’t be a firehouse without a call ruining the moment. My spine tenses on instinct as I listen to the dispatcher read out the call.
“Go. We’ll tidy up and be on our way,” Elliot says. He grabs a handful of my shirt and presses a quick kiss to my lips.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to it when we’re back. I’ll see you in the morning.” I kiss him again, then ruffle Boomer’s furry head quickly before saying bye to Blaine.
I hop into my turnout gear and climb into the truck. The fullness in my chest doesn’t ease, and I find myself smiling to myself as we head out the door.
There’s a single, loud knock at the door before the sound of jingling keys and the lock disengaging.
I hook my fingers into Boomer’s collar so he doesn’t dart for the door as it swings open.
Ernie comes barreling in, followed by Blaine and Alex.
Once the door is shut behind them, I finally let him go.
He launches himself off the couch, and the two dogs start playing, emptying Boomer’s overflowing toy basket within seconds.
“I’ll put this in the fridge,” Alex says quietly, holding up the cheesecake I asked him to make as a surprise.
“Thanks. There’s some money on the side for you,” I reply, and he waves me off.
“I don’t want your money, Hunter. We’re family now, and family doesn’t pay for cheesecake.”
“Did someone say cheesecake?” Elliot calls out as he hurries down the hall from the bedroom. He was supposed to be getting dressed, but I’m guessing by the fact that he’s only wearing his boxers, one of my plaid shirts, and socks, he must’ve gotten distracted.
At least he’s wearing both socks this time.
Blaine turns to his brother and sighs. “Do you ever wear pants?”
Elliot glances down at himself, then shrugs. “It’s my apartment. If I want to spend the day in my underwear, then I’ll do that.”
Blaine shakes his head, an affectionate expression on his face.
“Who are you to ask me, anyway? The garment police?” Elliot grins, playfully shoving his brother before disappearing back down the hall.
“Remember your pants!” Blaine calls after him.
“I’ll remember your pants next time I walk into your apartment and you’re naked!”
Alex is laughing as he takes a seat on the couch.
After they left the station yesterday, Blaine and Elliot ended up talking it out, and Elliot reassured him that he doesn’t feel let down or failed by his brother.
He agrees he, too, wonders whether things would have been easier for him if he’d received his diagnosis earlier, but he isn’t upset by it.
Elliot returns wearing his pair of pajama bottoms with otters on them and flops back onto the couch next to me. I’ve prepared dinner for whenever we want to eat, so all I need to do is cook the pasta and put the salmon steaks in the oven.
“Shit, have you seen this?” Alex asks suddenly, glancing up from his phone.
Blaine looks over his shoulder, his brows nearly hitting his hairline as his eyes widen. “Fuck.”
“What?” Elliot asks, climbing over me, then throwing himself on top of Blaine to look at Alex’s phone.
“Mitch has been traded to Toronto.”
“What!” Elliot yelps.
“Mitchell Henry?” I ask, still getting familiar with all of Elliot’s teammates.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Elliot says, pushing off Blaine to sit back on the cushion. “Damn, I’m gonna really miss him.”
“I know it’s all part of the business, but I hate the trade deadline window. I’m so glad Hayden managed to secure the no-trade clause,” Blaine says with a sigh. He throws his arm around Alex’s shoulder and pulls him closer.
Elliot and I have spoken in detail about what would happen if he gets traded. Not that I think it will happen because he’s currently sitting at the top in the rankings for goals and save percentage, and each season, his stats continue to improve. The Thunder won’t want to let him go.
I leave them to talk about the other trades happening within the league and make a start on dinner. Alex joins me, and he tells me all about the bakery he owns with his brother Jacob.
Once we’re full from dinner and demolishing Alex’s lemon cheesecake, we watch Boston beat Tampa, and then Alex and Blaine get up to head back upstairs to their apartment.
As Boomer and Ernie fell asleep shortly after dinner, Blaine ends up having to pick Ernie up because the dog is too stubborn to walk.
“Watch him wake up by the time we go to bed,” Alex says, ruffling the fur on top of Ernie’s head.
We say our goodbyes, and Boomer puts himself to bed while I tidy up.
“Do you think hammerhead sharks have, like, panoramic vision?” Elliot asks from his spot on the couch.
I smile to myself, becoming all too familiar with Elliot’s random questions. I walk over to the couch and rest my hands on the back of the couch next to where he’s lying, scrolling on his phone.
“Uh, I don’t believe they do, no.”
He looks up at me, those gorgeous green eyes gleaming with wonderment. “That’s a shame. It would be cool to have, like, a super-wide shot of everything.”
I press my lips together, trying but failing to stop the grin from splitting my face.
“Come to bed. I’ve got you a gift,” I say, then head down the hall to our room without waiting for him.
“Is it your cock?” he calls after me, the sound of his feet against the hardwood getting louder as he gets closer.
“No, it isn’t.” I huff out a laugh.
Elliot throws himself onto the bed. “Is it a puppy?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not a puppy.”
His brows furrow slightly as he thinks, then lets out a loud gasp. “Is it an otter?”
I let out a choked laugh, and Elliot slaps his hand against the mattress. “Oh my god, it is!”
Taking the gift bag out of the closet, where I stashed it earlier, I take a seat next to him and hand over the gift bag.
He pulls out the tissue paper, then pulls out the soft stuffed otter.
It’s wearing a harness similar to what dogs wear, and on the side is a badge that reads “Emotional Support Otter.”
“It’s for when I can’t be there,” I say, hoping he doesn’t think it’s foolish.
Elliot tips his head toward me and smiles so wide, his eyes crease at the corners. “You got me an otter.”
I laugh, nodding softly. “Yeah, I did.”
With the otter still in his hand, he throws his arms around me and pushes me back onto the bed. I sputter when he ends up hitting me in the face with the toy as he climbs on top of me.
“Gah, I love you,” he declares before pressing his lips to mine in a fierce kiss.
“I love you too,” I murmur against his mouth.
“Maybe I’ll make you some blowjob cupcakes for your birthday.”
I pull my head back to look at him. “Some what?”
“Blowjob cupcakes. It’s a whole thing, and it’ll be super messy, but I’d do it for you.”
I furrow my brows in confusion, letting out a small laugh as he mimics making a mess over his face with his hand.
“Can we go to bed now?” he asks around a yawn.
I give his ass a gentle slap for him to stand, and then we get ready for bed.
He places the otter on the armchair in the corner of his room that I’ve come to realize is more for his clothes than its actual purpose, then crawls into bed next to me.
I wrap my arms around him, and he curls against my side, resting his head on my chest.
“I love you,” he says, tipping his head back to look at me.
I press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, El.”
“Thanks for loving me.”
“Thanks for letting me love you,” I whisper.
“Thanks for picking me to let you love me.”
A light huff leaves my lips. I cup his face and trace over his lips with my thumb. The tip of his tongue darts out enough to swirl around it, and I’m on top of him in an instant, sinking my hips onto his and nuzzling my face into his neck.
My voice is gravel when I murmur, “Now, be a good boy and let me love you.”
“Mhm, whatever you say, Lieutenant.”