20. Eli
Eli
I hadn’t realized how much of my life had started to revolve around CJ.
Morning coffee. Walking to work together.
Lunch breaks shared without thinking. The sound of his footsteps crossing the office toward me, like they always knew where I was.
The way he always looked up when I walked into a room, that small smile arriving before anything else, his dimple cutting in like it belonged there.
It was always the small things that stayed.
The things that made it too easy to forget this might only be temporary. Because if the text, the man across the street, my staff card, and the photos meant anything, Adrian had found me.
And if he’d found me, I knew I had to run. Soon.
So I let myself enjoy this while I can.
The waterfront stretched out ahead of us. Campbell River lay calm tonight, ferries sliding slowly across the water. Rain had threatened all morning, but it never came. The Saturday evening air felt warmer than usual, and the stars were finally visible.
People walked along the shoreline, just living: couples holding hands, families laughing at kids running ahead. Just people living without thinking about it.
And here I stood on a balcony, fully aware someone was watching me.
Knowing I had been found.
Knowing there was nothing I could do.
I breathed in the salt air and looked at the man beside me. I wanted to hold onto this, the time I had with him.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said.
CJ looked at me, then nodded once.
Minutes later, we were walking along the waterfront shoulder to shoulder, close enough that our hands kept brushing now and then. I looked down at them. I wanted to hold his hand, feel his warmth and the strength of him, so I took the plunge and reached for it.
CJ turned his head immediately.
“Is this okay?” I asked quietly.
His thumb dragged lightly over my knuckles. “Yeah, Baby Boy,” he said softly. “It’s perfect.”
We walked in silence for a while, sand crunching softly beneath our feet. When we reached the pier, we walked to the end and leaned against the railing overlooking the bay. CJ stood beside me, our shoulders touching.
“You ever think about who you would be if things were different?” he asked quietly. “If you had never met Adrian?”
I looked out over the water. “All the time.”
A small silence settled between us.
“It’s strange,” CJ said. “I used to think grief was just missing someone.” His fingers tightened slightly around mine. “But I don’t think that’s what it really is.”
I looked at him.
“I think it’s missing who you were when you were with that person,” his voice dropped. “Because you don’t get to be that version of yourself anymore.”
The words settled heavy between us.
“I miss Charlie,” he whispered, the pain in his voice hitting harder than I expected. “I’ve missed him every day for the last three years.” He looked out over the water. “I miss who I was with him. I miss the person I was before everything changed.”
I stayed quiet. I understood that kind of loss. Not the same, but close enough.
I leaned into CJ, resting my chin on his shoulder. “Tell me more about him,” I whispered.
CJ looked down at our joined hands, and for a moment, I wondered if he would answer. Then he took a slow breath and started to speak.
“He trusted people. Probably too much,” he said quietly. “He always wanted to see the best in everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.” His eyes stayed fixed on the water. “He was kind. He cared deeply. But he had a wild side, too. Anyone who hurt someone he loved? They answered to him.”
A small smile pulled at his mouth.
“He fought like he’d been born for it, in the army and outside of it. He loved hard: his family, the army…” He took in a deep breath. “…me.” The last word came out barely above a whisper.
“We met in basic training. I fell first, but it was more than that. Charlie was just… there. At work, at home, everywhere. He made me better. Made me want to be better.” His fingers tightened around mine. “I loved him with everything I had.” His voice cracked slightly. “Then he was gone.”
He turned toward me, still holding my hand. “I’m so fucking angry he’s gone, Eli. When Charlie died, he took a part of me with him. A part I’ll never get back.”
I didn’t say anything. I just pulled him in and held him, the way he had held me through every nightmare, every memory, every moment I thought I couldn’t breathe.
“Do you miss him?” I asked quietly.
CJ pulled back slightly, confusion crossing his face.
I smiled softly. “The old CJ.”
His expression changed, and for a moment, he just looked at me.
“Do you miss him?” I asked again quietly.
He didn’t answer straight away, but then a small smile touched his lips. “Sometimes.”
I nodded, because I understood.
I think I missed someone, too. Not Adrian. Not that life. I missed the Eli I was before Adrian: the version of myself who laughed more easily, who trusted people, who felt something other than fear, anger, and guilt.
I think that’s what CJ missed. It wasn’t that he wanted to go back; it was that he missed the person he was before he lost Charlie. The CJ who felt whole, complete, happy. The person who existed before grief changed everything.
Maybe that’s what losing someone really is: missing the version of yourself that existed when they were still there.
We stood there at the end of the pier, holding hands, neither of us needing to say anything else. Because for the first time, I think we both understood that maybe we aren’t trying to become who we were before. Maybe we’re learning who we are now.
“Eli,” his voice was rough. “Can I kiss you?”
I turned toward him, lifting my face.
His lips met mine, and everything else disappeared; there was only CJ left. The kiss felt like a promise. When we finally pulled apart, we stayed close, our foreheads almost touching.
“I don’t know how to do this,” CJ admitted quietly, a small laugh escaping him as he threw my own words back at me.
I smiled. “Good.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Good?”
I nodded. “Means we learn together.” I squeezed his hand. “CJ, I know you know what I’ve been through. I know you know the worst parts of me.”
His expression softened.
“But what we have, I want to build it. I want to learn it. I want this.” I swallowed hard. “I spent years barely surviving.” I looked at him. “Then you came along and reminded me I was supposed to live, too.”
His eyes softened completely. “I want that, too. With you.”
I kissed him again, because this time, I was choosing us.
When we pulled away, CJ smiled. “Eli, just so you know…”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You’re mine now.”
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it. “Is that your way of asking me to be your boyfriend?”
That familiar smirk appeared. “Yeah, Baby Boy. It is.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You were mine from the minute you opened that car door.”
For the first time since leaving Adrian, he wasn’t the loudest thing in my head. The fear was still there, along with the danger. But it wasn’t everything anymore.
CJ was.
Somewhere between coffee, late nights at the office, quiet conversations, and the way he always looked at me like I mattered, I had fallen in love with him.
* * *
When we got home, the sexual tension was humming, but there was something different in the air, too. After everything at the pier, after all those heavy emotions, neither of us quite knew what to do with ourselves.
We circled each other. CJ made coffee, and I stole his mug. He immediately complained as I refused to give it back.
“It’s mine now,” I told him.
Ten minutes later, he was still explaining why stealing someone’s mug made me worse than Finn and apparently a “menace to society”, all over a coffee mug.
I walked past him and deliberately brushed my fingers against his ass. He went completely silent.
I smiled over his mug, watching him.
His grin was smug as he disappeared down the hallway, returning a minute later wearing…
Fucking grey sweatpants. Are you kidding me right now?
I stared. Seriously, what the actual fuck. He looked way too good in them, and CJ caught me looking, the smirk on his face saying he knew exactly what he was doing.
He was sex on a stick. Seriously, he looked way too good. Somehow he’d become chaos, confidence, and sex wrapped up in a pair of fucking grey sweatpants.
What a jerk.
Oh, two can play at that game, you fucker.
I was just about to go find my own pair when his phone rang. He smirked at me and answered. “Deck.”
His voice dropped slightly.
I smiled into my coffee. CJ caught me staring and gave me a look as I heard Deck say something on the other end.
CJ just responded, “Never.”
He looked at me, his eyes trailing down to my visibly hard dick, and I watched as his tongue peeked out to lick his bottom lip.
“What is Finn doing at your place?” CJ asked Deck into the phone.
I looked down and saw the very clear, hard imprint tenting CJ’s sweatpants. I moaned quietly and took a step forward.
“Sounds good. See you then,” CJ said into the line.
He hung up and shook his head, walking over to take his mug back from my hand. He took a sip while maintaining direct eye contact. “Get ready, Baby Boy,” he said.
I blinked. “For what?”
“We’re going out.”
“Out?”
He nodded. “With Finn and Deck. Food, drinks, pool. Maybe dancing.” He checked the time. “You have an hour.”
I stared at him for a second too long, then reached up and kissed him again. My hands moved to his hips, and my hard dick brushed against his, pulling a low groan from him.
He deepened the kiss, owning my mouth, and then just as suddenly, he broke it off and stepped back. The warmth vanished, CJ’s iron self-control snapping back into place.
“Get ready, Baby Boy,” he said, his voice calm again, even if his breathing wasn’t. He was panting hard.
I swallowed hard, trying to catch my breath while still feeling the echo of him on my lips. I turned away and headed down the hallway, acutely aware of my very hard dick and what would have happened if Deck hadn’t called.
Deck.
What a fucking cock-blocker.