Page 31

Chapter 31

Benji Morrison

The apartment had never been quieter.

The city’s sounds still filtered in—sirens, car horns, the occasional bark from a neighbor’s dog—but inside, everything felt still. As if the walls were holding their breath along with me.

Eli was in the shower. I could hear the faint rush of water through the door as I stood in the kitchen, staring at the half-full bottle of wine I’d left on the counter.

I didn’t want it. Not anymore. Not after everything that happened. Not with the weight of reality still pressing down on my shoulders like an invisible elephant.

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the strands until it hurt. Fuck, these last few weeks had been a fucking whirlwind. And then it all culminated with Zack. What he did… what he almost did—I’d seen some unhinged shit in my years, but watching someone I had zero suspicion of, someone Eli trusted, unravel like that?

It shook me.

I’d let my guard down one too many times. I’d seen the path of destruction the bottle led my mother down. I had stepped onto that path myself.

No more. Day one started now.

I twisted the cork out of the wine bottle and dumped the rest of it down the drain.

That felt… good. Cleansing. A small act of control. I rinsed the bottle and dropped it in the recycling before turning off the kitchen light and moving to the living room.

It was a small step forward, but it was a step none-the-less.

The apartment smelled like Eli. Like his cologne and the minty balm he put on his lips. He’d been staying here these last couple of days, the two of us cocooned in here with a never-ending supply of greasy delivery food and shows we’d been meaning to watch but never had the time to start. Lucky was curled up on the couch, one ear twitching as he adjusted to a new position, but otherwise still as a statue.

I sat down, letting my body sink into the cushion. It had been two days since everything went down. Since Zack was taken into custody. Since Eli collapsed into my arms.

And still, I hadn’t let myself fully feel it. Not yet.

The bathroom door creaked open and Eli stepped out, a towel around his waist, another rubbing at his hair. His skin was flushed from the heat of the water, eyes pink at the corners. He looked tired, but better. Whole.

Also so damn fucking sexy.

“Hey,” I said softly.

He gave me a genuine smile. “Hey.”

“How was the shower?”

“It was great. I didn’t take too long did I?”

“Not at all,” I said, a sense of peace and contentment filling me as I watched him in my space.

He crossed the room and dropped onto the couch next to me. Not quite touching, but close.

“How ya’ feeling?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said after a pause. “Good, I guess? I keep thinking I should be feeling good, you know? I’m safe. It’s over. But every time I close my eyes, I still see his face.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. I just reached out and took his hand, still slightly damp from the shower.

“He was my best friend,” Eli whispered. “I trusted him with everything. I let him in.” He looked down at our joined hands. “And he wanted to kill me.”

I felt his words like a blade sliding beneath my ribs. “None of that is your fault.”

“I know,” he said, though his voice was thin. “I do. But I keep replaying everything. What I missed. What I should’ve seen. I keep wondering if there’s something about me that attracted someone like that.”

“No,” I said, firm. “Eli, no. There’s nothing wrong with being open. With caring. You didn’t invite that kind of obsession—he made that choice. You didn’t cause what happened. You survived it.”

He blinked rapidly and gave a shaky nod. “Thanks,” he murmured.

I moved a little closer, knees brushing. “You were brave as hell. Through all of it. Hell, you warned me, even when you were barely conscious.”

He gave a soft, surprised laugh. “That was… fuzzy. But I remember feeling you there. And knowing I was going to be okay.”

That made something in my chest ache. “I was terrified,” I admitted. “When I got to that building, when I didn’t see you next to me in bed, I just knew something was fucked..”

“I should’ve woken you up. Told you where I was going.”

“No,” I said. “This isn’t about blame. If anything, I should’ve pushed harder. I should’ve—fuck—I should’ve seen it sooner. Zack, he was always… around .”

Eli’s brows furrowed. “It’s not your fault either.”

A long silence stretched between us.

“You know what’s fucked up?” he said finally. “I still don’t know if he would’ve gone through with it. If you hadn’t been there, would he have just…” He trailed off, eyes distant.

“He was dangerous. And unpredictable,” I said. “And now he’s where he can’t hurt anyone.”

Eli nodded slowly, leaning his head back against the couch. “I just… I need a little time to feel normal again.”

“You can take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He turned his head and looked at me. Something sparkled in the air.

“I didn’t expect this,” Eli said, voice low. “Any of it. You. Us. But I don’t want to run from it either.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “That makes two of us.”

We sat in silence again, but this time it was comfortable. Charged in a different way. It was pushing us away from the negativity and into a more positive space. Where the air crackled with an energy that felt right.

I brushed a damp curl from his forehead. His eyes sparkled with something soft. He reached out and grabbed the front of my tank. “Come here.”

I leaned in. Our foreheads touched. His lips brushed mine, light, tentative—like he was still testing the waters.

But when I kissed him back, it was with the promise that I was here . Present. Committed.

Not as the detective who kept secrets.

But as the man who’d do anything to keep him safe.

Eli smiled against my mouth. “You didn’t even drink tonight,” he whispered.

“I didn’t want to. Not anymore.”

His fingers ghosted over my jaw. “That’s… that means a lot.”

“You mean a lot.”

We kissed again, deeper this time. Slower. My hands slid over his waist. His towel had loosened but didn’t fall. I wasn’t rushing us. Neither of us needed to.

When we broke apart, we stayed close, foreheads pressed together. Breathing in sync.

“You tired?” I asked.

“Not really,” he said, eyes glinting. “But maybe we could lie down anyway.”

I took his hand. “Come on, then.”