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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ELLIOT

My feet hurt like hell and my head aches, but being alone with Hank is the best I’ve felt since we returned to civilization.

He eases back in the booth across from me. “It’s a relief to see you, Elliot.”

Satisfaction thrums through me. “You, too. No one else can really understand what we went through. Not that I feel like I understand myself, totally.”

“We’ve joined a very exclusive club.” He sips his drink. “You’re more adept at social media than I am. How bad do you think this attention is going to get?”

“I’m not sure. People will stop focusing eventually, especially once they realize we aren’t scamming your job or trafficking drugs or anything exciting. But probably this ordeal will always follow us a tiny bit online.”

Hank nods. “That’s what I figured.”

He’s obviously bothered, and I don’t particularly like the idea, either. Normally, I’d see major media attention as an opportunity. Right now, though, it’s more like a distraction when I really need peace and quiet, and it makes things worse for Hank, too.

“Sorry about the career implications,” I tell him.

It’s not until that moment my thoughts fully catch up. It’s going to be even harder to convince Hank to take a chance with me, considering he’s already in trouble at work.

My gut wrenches. He’s right here, but need lashes me. I want more of him, and I’m scared of losing what we have.

“If my dad had given me half as much attention as he was giving to the agency’s reputation, he would have seen that we’re still exhausted and not camera ready. I swear, he’s acting even more uptight than usual.”

“Probably doesn’t help that I talked back to him.”

I lay my hand between us, palm up, offering it to him. “Thank you for defending me. It felt really nice.”

Hank takes my hand, and warmth flows from his touch right to my heart.

“Honestly, I was surprised that you agreed to do the press conference in the first place, considering it was all for the firm.”

“I knew it would matter to you,” I say. “I wasn’t going to leave you stranded.”

Hank squeezes my hand, and the song switches to My Chemical Romance.

“I appreciate that, Elliot,” he says, his voice serious and sincere.

“But I don’t want you to try to appease your father for my sake.

If he’s not treating you right, and you don’t want to be around him, then you shouldn’t be around him, okay?

I’ll handle my career repercussions. You take care of yourself. ”

Hearing that tugs at some emotion I don’t understand. It’s so easy for me to tell myself that I’m acting spoiled, or that I should just try a little harder with my family. And though I struck out on my own years ago, I still go back for help, like the night of the casino boat.

My resolve strengthens. I’m going to claim the independence I want, no matter what it takes. And I’m going to be the kind of man Hank can trust, if he’ll give me the chance.

“Let’s make a deal,” I tell Hank. “We’ll both promise to take care of ourselves first, but we don’t have to stop taking care of each other, too. Like when an airplane is going down and you need to fix your own oxygen mask before you help your seatmates.”

Hank chuckles. “We’ve graduated from shipwrecks to plane crashes. But yes. I agree. We still need each other.”

I nod. “Good. Now I have some very pressing business I’ve been dying to ask you about since I saw you at the press conference.”

He tilts his head to the side, concerned. “What’s that?”

“May I please, please touch your face?”

Hank scoffs. “You’ve been wanting to touch my face since the press conference?”

I bat my eyelashes. “Please?”

Hank laughs, but I can see how pleased he is. “Fine. Thank you for coming to the press conference in consideration of me. You can touch my?—”

I reach across and grab both of his cheeks, squeezing and rubbing my thumbs over his skin. “So smooth!” I drag my fingers down. “And your jaw is so square,” I say, cooing. “And those lips…”

Hank laughs and pulls his face back. “Okay,” he says, dismissing it. “I see you haven’t shaved. I remember that you’ve never grown a beard before.”

I rub my fingers in my beard. It’s scratchy, but kind of comforting, too.

“I’m already in this far,” I point out. “I think I like the way it looks. A nice beard and nail polish, can’t beat that combo.”

He chuckles. “A classic, certainly.”

I note that Hank isn’t thrown at all by my style now that I’m back to my regular fashion.

“Now my turn,” he says. “I want to see one of your illustrations.”

I light up, delighted by the question. “Totally,” I say as I quickly pull a few up on my replacement phone, Marko’s old one. I access the folder with some of my classics, and hand it off to Hank. “These are the hits,” I say.

As I watch, a broad smile fills his face. His eyes roam the screen, taking the images in detail by detail. Hank zooms in on an illustration, chuckles to himself, and zooms out again.

“This dragon anatomy,” he says, impressed. “It’s spectacular.”

“Thank you. I spent a lot of time reading about lizard biology when I first got started.”

“It shows.” He scans some more, humming to himself. “They’re even better than I imagined.”

Deeply satisfied, I beam at him. “Thank you.”

Hank hands the phone back. “I’m going to have a million questions for you later.”

“You know I’ll have a million answers.”

He casts his eyes around the Unicorn. “I haven’t been to a club in ages.” He sips the soda water. “It feels strange. But being back in the city, everything familiar is unfamiliar. Is it that way for you, too?”

“I flipped a light switch on and off for about twenty minutes the first night.”

“My espresso machine seemed like a miracle of technology.”

I laugh. “This is the club that has the techno night I told you about. You should join me sometime, if you want.”

“Going out together won’t be an option for us,” he says. “Not if we want the attention to die down.”

“Right. Some day in the far future, maybe. With my backlog of work, I shouldn’t be doing anything but drawing, anyway. But the drag rally that Marko is organizing happens next week. No way I’m going to miss that.”

“I’m sorry you can’t take any time off work.”

“I’ll make magic happen,” I tell him, projecting confidence. I want Hank to see the guy who helped build fires and forage food, not the confused kid who forgot to check his end of the island. “After what we’ve been through, this will be easy.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

Our feet bump together under the table. I lean in a little closer, and Hank holds my eye.

The desire to kiss him surges through me. I feel the spark in him, too, and I tilt my head slightly to the side, inviting and hoping.

“Elliot,” he says, voice soft.

I settle back. “Right. Sorry. It’s just really nice to see you, Hank.”

“I feel the same way.”

“If we both feel that way, maybe we could find another time to see each other. Somewhere actually private. Like somewhere we could have a date?”

Hank swallows, and I see him searching for words.

“I know,” I say. “No expectations once we’re back to civilization. But now we’re back, and I really like you, Hank. I want more time with you, if you’re interested, too.”

His face softens. I see the gentle curve of his cheek, the cut of his jaw, the shadow of his cleft, and I’m fascinated by all of it, the face behind his beard.

“I like you too, Elliot. But I don’t think it’s that easy.

For one, I’m looking for a serious relationship.

I’m ready to settle down, and I don’t know that you want the kind of life that I want.

Let alone the kind of relationship. And casual sex is off the table for me, considering we’re already emotionally bonded. ”

“If by settling down, you mean making a nice domestic life together and committing to a monogamous relationship, I would happily give it a try. I’ve never had a serious boyfriend like that, so it will be new for me.

But I do think I want that.” I hold my hands up, realizing I might be going too fast. “Not that I’m trying to commit right now. ”

“Oh.” Hank rubs the back of his head. “You’re interested in something serious with me?”

I take his hand across the table. “I like who I am with you, Hank. And not just because of trauma-bonding. You make me happy, and I think I make you happy, too. And I know we’re really different people with a lot of barriers between us, including your career and my family and a tabloid circus that’s waiting outside.

But if there’s a chance that there’s something real here, I don’t want to let all that other stuff stop us from trying. ”

Hank rubs his thumb in a circle on the back of my hand.

“You do make me happy, Elliot,” he says.

“And you’re right. Something works when we’re together, and I’m curious, too.

” He searches my eyes with his own, serious.

“But we’d have to be discreet. We would have to keep our relationship secret while we figure things out. ”

“Agreed,” I tell him, excitement growing as I realize we’re really doing this. Hank is willing to give us a chance. “We need meaningful time alone to see where this goes.”

Hank considers me before nodding. “Then let’s do that. One step at a time. Would you like to come to my condo in a couple days, and I’ll make you dinner?”

I light up. “I’d love to.”

“Just us,” Hank says. “We’ll start to figure out who we are to each other.”

“That sounds perfect.” I lift up his hand and brush a kiss over the back of his knuckles. “And so you know, I’m totally going to leave my socks on when you say yes.”