Page 17 of Tangled Hearts (Mended Hearts #4)

Eli

I love sleeping in my dads’ bed. I always wake up feeling so warm and safe. Cozy. It’s my favorite. Something feels different this morning, though. My face scrunches in confusion as I turn my head back and forth.

I open my eyes and see jeans. Jeans? Since when do Beck and Roman sleep in jeans? Wait a damn second. I sit up, confused because I’m not at my dads’ at all. I’m in my living room. Which means… Oh shit. Oh fuckity fuck.

I turn around and come face-to-face with Nic.

He’s awake, but he’s on my couch. I was lying in his lap.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.

I make eye contact with him. He really does have the most gorgeous eyes, and right now they’re even prettier, heavy with sleep and soft.

No. Nope. Absolutely not. Not going there.

“What the fuck?” I practically yell the words. Nic’s lips turn up in a smile.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. ”

Heat floods my face. “Why did you let me fall asleep on you?” I ask, unable to keep the accusation out of my tone.

He doesn’t answer, which just makes me more frustrated.

“It doesn’t mean anything. This.” I gesture between the two of us, realizing belatedly that I’m still half-sprawled across his lap.

“I just like to cuddle in my sleep. Shut up. Mind your own business.”

Nic’s smile keeps growing. “As you recall, I didn’t say a word.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “No, but your smug smile says it all for you.”

“And yet,” he says, leaning closer to me. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. I have no idea why I’d think that. He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Not that I’d want him to anyway. My heart flutters in my throat as he stares at me. “You’re still half in my lap.”

I scramble away from him and stand up. “Whatever.” He laughs. All raspy and shit. Fucking annoying. Mentally adding his sexy, raspy laugh to the running tally in my head. The list is starting to get out of hand. “Anyway, are you gonna make me breakfast?”

“Of course.” Nic stands. “I’m going to go change first, though. I think someone got drool on my pants.”

He leaves me standing in the living room, my jaw open and my cheeks burning.

When he comes back in, he’s wearing a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

The man has a nice collection of sweats.

I’m seriously tempted to steal some. I won’t.

Probably, anyway. I already have his leather jacket.

So it’s not like I really need to steal any more of his clothes, but they do look hella comfy.

“You ready?” he asks, smiling at me.

As ready as I’m ever gonna be. “Yep.”

“I’ll take Kassie out for you and meet you in the kitchen?”

“Thank you. ”

While he’s taking Kassie out, I work on getting everything together. I’m feeling like eggs and bacon, so I grab them from the fridge and start pulling pans out.

A warm body presses against my back, and I startle, but the contact doesn’t last long. I’m half-dazed, so I don’t even put up a fight when Nic takes the pans from my hands. “I’m making it.”

Well, I guess I won’t argue with that. I climb onto the counter and watch as he cracks eggs into a bowl and starts whisking them. He glances at me. “I’m feeling scrambled today. What about you?”

Scrambled seems fair, considering that’s how my brain feels. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He flashes me a smile and goes back to whisking.

He sets the eggs off to the side and gets the bacon going while he melts some butter in a pan.

It’s easy to see that he’s comfortable here when he opens the fridge and pulls out a gallon of milk.

I don’t think I fully realized that he actually lives with me until this very moment.

Something about the ease with which he moves around is startling. Not bad, just… I don’t know.

“Do you like your bacon crispy?” Nic asks, glancing over at me.

“I’m not picky.”

“You don’t have to be picky to have a preference.”

Well, I guess that’s true, but I don’t want to be difficult. “It’s not a big deal. Just however you like it is fine.”

Nic sets the milk down and fully faces me. “No. Tell me how you like your bacon, Eli.”

I set my shoulders, narrowing my eyes. “Why are you making this so difficult? Just make it how you make it, and I’ll eat it. It’s just bacon.”

Nic stares at me for a second. “I want to make it how you like it. If you don’t tell me, then I can’t do that. ”

Now I don’t want to tell him even more. “Just make the damn bacon, Nicolas.”

He laughs. “Just tell me how you like it, Elliot.”

I gasp, outraged. “That’s not my name.”

“Oh?” Nic asks, eyebrows raised. “Not so fun when someone’s calling you something that’s not your name, huh?”

I groan. Oh my fucking God. “Fine. I like it crispy, but like mid-crispy. Not chewy, but not like burned either. It’s difficult to get right. Just make it however, and I’ll eat it.”

Nic flashes me a bright smile. “Good boy. Now, was that so hard?”

I think he means for the words to be teasing, to be a callback to our interaction two weeks ago.

I’m sure he thought it would lighten the mood.

It doesn’t. It makes the air around us so fucking thick I can hardly breathe.

It makes my pulse skyrocket and my throat go dry.

It makes my eyes drop to his mouth. Traitorous fucking organs.

I nod because I don’t think I can make words.

Something flares in his eyes, but he turns quickly back to his task. I sit mute. I have no idea what I’d even say, and to be so honest, anything I could say is probably not the right thing to say.

I watch as Nic cooks. He’s methodical, like he’s comfortable in all kitchens, not just mine. “Where did you learn to cook?” I hear myself asking.

“My mom. She was a big believer that everyone should know how to make at least a few basic meals. What about you?”

“Uncle Julian.”

That seems to surprise him. “Yeah? Julian cooks? I guess I hadn’t paid much attention.”

I nod. “Almost everything. Holden makes some things, and don’t get me wrong, the things he does make, he makes really well. He could burn water, though, and if you tell him I said that, I’ll never speak to you again.”

Nic finishes up the eggs and takes them off the stove before grabbing two plates and dividing them up. “Your secrets are safe with me, Eli. All of them.”

His sentence feels a little loaded for an early morning breakfast, and even more so for a joke. Uncle Holden already knows my thoughts on his cooking. When Nic gets the bacon done, he places two slices on my plate and two on his, then grabs both plates off the counter. “You ready?”

I nod and hop off the counter, following him to the little breakfast nook I have by the window. When I bite into my bacon, I groan. How the fuck did he manage to cook it perfectly? “S’good,” I mumble around my mouthful. “How’d you cook it so good?”

He shrugs, but he looks pleased with himself. “I like my bacon the same way.”

I hum and go back to eating. No one ever makes my bacon the right way. Color me impressed. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Nic smiles, then goes back to eating. After he takes a couple more bites, he glances up at me. “After breakfast, go get showered and dressed. I want to take you out for boba.”

“Uh… okay.”

“Wow,” Nic says, blinking at me. “You didn’t even give me any snark.”

“Don’t push your luck. I’ll give you twice as much attitude to make up for it.”

He laughs. “You go right ahead, doll. Won’t bother me a bit.”

“Did you just… Why did you call me doll?” What the fuck? His eyes widen. Did he not mean it? Why does that make me kind of sad? “You can,” I mumble, looking down at my plate .

“Can what?” he asks carefully.

“Call me doll. If you want. It doesn’t bother me. Unhinged nicknames are kind of our thing in this family.” He hums, so I force my gaze back to his. “Or not. Call me whatever. Just not Elijah.”

He grins, lopsided and boyish. “Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “Is it a bad nickname? You can call me Nicolas, but I can’t call you Elijah?”

“I mean, you can, but it’s what my bio dad called me when he used to beat the shit out of me, so if it’s all the same, I’d rather you didn’t.”

The smile slides right off his face and my heart sinks. Goddammit. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “I just told you, Eli. Be as bratty as you want. But especially if I’m being an insensitive prick. I didn’t know.”

Of course he didn’t know. How could he? “I know. It’s not your fault. I’m still sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m serious about boba, though.”

I nod, picking up my plate. “Want me to take yours?”

“Sure.” Nic gives me his plate, and when I’m about to step away, he closes his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “I want you to get all dolled up first, yeah? The world is sorely lacking without sparkly shiny Eli.”

Sparkly shiny Eli? Is that how he sees me? “All dolled up? Any correlation to my new nickname?”

If I thought the question would throw him, I was mistaken. He just smirks at me. “Possibly. Please?”

“Ugh. Fine. Just so you don’t have another meltdown about it.”

He runs his thumb over the inside of my wrist, making my breath hitch in my chest before he releases me with a grin. “Okay. Do you wanna go get ready?”

I glance down at the plates in my hand. “I’m actually going to do the dishes first. ”

Nic laughs, but it’s not funny to me at all. “It’s just a couple of plates.”

To him, it’s just a couple of plates. To me, it’s a reminder of my childhood.

A childhood I actually alluded to last night when I was talking to him.

I don’t expect him to know everything. How could I?

But how does he not understand the correlation?

“So, I actually really struggle with small messes like dishes. I know it maybe sounds ridiculous, but when you’re six years old and starving, and you can’t even make a bowl of stale cereal because there are no clean dishes, it’s not really super fun. ”

The smile falls from his face, sadness flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not always the best at doing dishes until there’s a load of them. I’ll try to be better about that in the future.”

I can’t help but gape at him. “Are you serious?”

He frowns. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

Because I’ve been nothing but a little asshole to you?

Because it’s not your job to tiptoe around my triggers?

Because you’re ruining my perception of you, and I don’t want to like you, even though I can’t help but already like you?

Because despite my posturing, I actually really want you to like me ?

“I guess I just figured you’d think I was being silly. ”

He studies me for a second before standing.

He’s close. So close. I drop my eyes, and they settle somewhere around his throat.

“Eli?” His fingers touch the underside of my chin, and he tilts my head back so I’m forced to look up at him.

His stare is intense, his eyes boring into mine.

“There is nothing silly about trauma responses. If keeping you comfortable in your own space means I need to wash my plate when I’m done, then damn, that’s a pretty easy task, don’t you think? ”

I swallow hard, but my words seem to be stuck. It doesn’t matter because Nic gently works the plates from my hands and takes a step back. “You go get ready. I’ll do the dishes.”

I nod and rush from the room. Holy shit, why is it so hard to get air into my lungs?