Page 32

Chapter thirty-two

Mike

Elliot sagged against the tile, his breath still coming in rough, uneven gasps, his forehead buried into my shoulder. I pressed a hand to his back, feeling the way he trembled slightly beneath my touch.

I reached past him to turn off the water, but I didn’t let go. Not yet.

He needed this.

Needed to be held, to be wanted without question.

And I needed it, too, needed him, more than I’d ever needed anyone.

I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you dry before you pass out on me.”

He let out a lazy, exhausted hum, but he let me lead him out of the shower, let me wrap a towel around his shoulders before I grabbed another and started rubbing him down.

He huffed as I worked over his chest and arms. “I can dry myself, you know.”

“I know,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Humor me. I want to do this for you.”

He sighed, closing his eyes, and for the first time since I’d seen him that night, he looked fully relaxed.

That filled me with a warmth I may never fully understand. How could an utterly lazy lopsided grin and innocently closed eyes make my heart feel fuller than my stomach after a meal at Mrs. H’s house?

Once I had him mostly dry, I shoved him toward the bedroom. “Bed. Now.”

He smirked over his shoulder. “You’re so bossy, Professor Mike.”

“And you are about to collapse. Go.”

He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue. I followed him, crawling into bed just as he sprawled onto his back with a deep sigh.

I rolled onto my side, facing him, then reached up and ran my fingers across his still-damp hair. “How’s it feel to be back?”

Elliot let out a slow breath, eyes half lidded as he looked at me. “Better now that I’m here.”

That warmth churned in my chest like a cat curling in my lap, all sleepy purrs and biscuits.

“I missed you, you know.”

His lips quirked. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The weight of the past two weeks settled between us, the silence filled with everything we hadn’t said yet.

Then Elliot exhaled, rubbing at his face. “Tell me about school. What’d I miss?”

I grinned, nuzzling closer so I could use his chest as a pillow in the spot I wanted to declare mine and mine alone. God, he felt good holding me like that.

“Well, I told you about Jamie, right?”

“Gay kid? Struggling at home?”

“That’s the one.”

“Is he okay?”

“Oh, yeah. He came to see me again. I think everything is really weighing on him, and he doesn’t have an inner circle. His mom’s there, but he can only talk to her so much.”

“Right,” he said, his voice growing distant.

“It got me thinking. There isn’t anything at the school to help kids like him, no support group, no alliance, nothing. Mateo and I decided to do something about that.”

I trailed off as I heard the soft, steady sound of breathing beside me.

I turned my head and looked up at his face.

Elliot was out, his chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths, his lips parted slightly.

I smiled, my heart squeezing.

I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Night, big guy.”

He didn’t stir.

I settled into his arms, feeling the steady warmth of him, and I drifted off, too.

When I woke, it was still dark outside.

For a moment, I didn’t move. Just lay there, warm and comfortable, wrapped in the quiet hum of Elliot’s presence. His body was solid beside me, the heat of him radiating through the sheets, his arm thrown haphazardly across my stomach.

It took me a second to remember how we got here.

The long dinner with Mrs. H. The teasing. The walk home. The shower.

A rush of warmth crept up my neck at the memory, at the way his hands had gripped me, the way his mouth had moved against mine. It had been more than just sex. More than just need.

It had been him .

And now, he was here.

I let my gaze wander over his sleeping form. He was sprawled on his stomach, one arm stretched toward me, his fingers curled slightly where they rested on my hip. His face was turned to the side, pressed against the pillow, his mouth slightly parted as he exhaled deep, slow breaths. His usually sharp features were softened in sleep, making him look younger, more unguarded.

I suddenly realized something. He was vulnerable .

Exhaling slowly, I trailed my fingers lightly over his shoulder, tracing the curve of muscle beneath sun-warmed skin. He didn’t stir, just let out a quiet sigh, his body completely at ease.

I swallowed, my fingers continuing their slow exploration—down his arm, over the ridge of his knuckles, then back up to his shoulder. Touching him like this felt dangerous, like I was toeing the edge of something I wasn’t ready to name.

Everything was happening so fast— too fast.

The thought crept in uninvited, curling around my ribs, squeezing tight.

Two months ago, Elliot hadn’t even been in my life. And now?

Now he was everything. He was my first thought in the morning and the last one before I fell asleep. He infested my daydreams at work and drove my night dreams into madness, often a sticky madness. I craved his breath, his touch, his simple gaze.

Fucking Elliot Hart consumed me.

That realization sent another ripple of unease through me.

Because if I let myself need him, what would happen when he left?

Not if. When .

I didn’t have the best luck with men. Far from it. I fell too hard, and they ran too fast. It was the way of things. It was my pattern.

And Elliot wasn’t the kind of man who stayed.

He lived his life on the move, going wherever the next storm took him.

And I—God—was already too invested.

I let my fingers glide lower, ghosting down his spine.

How had this happened?

We were so different, opposites in many ways. Hell, we barely spoke the same language half the time. Not literally, of course, but still . . .

I’d been careful. At least, I thought I had. I knew better than to let myself get caught up in something I couldn’t control, but Elliot had slipped past my defenses before I even realized I had them up.

I wanted to believe he felt it, too.

That he wouldn’t have asked me to stay if this wasn’t something.

But I’d been wrong before.

I had fallen too fast before.

And every single time it had ended the same way—with me being left behind.

Would Elliot do that, too?

I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

I didn’t want to be left behind again, but I also wasn’t sure if I had it in me to pull away.

Elliot shifted slightly, his fingers twitching where they rested on my hip. His breathing remained steady and deep, his body still completely relaxed.

I clenched my jaw, staring at him.

What would he say if I woke him up right now? If I whispered, “Don’t go,” into his skin, if I asked him what all of this meant?

Would he give me the answer I wanted?

Or would he just give me the same answer every other man had?

That this was good . . . for now.

That it was fun while it lasted.

That I was great, but—

But.

There was always a goddammed but .

I sucked in a quiet breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t let myself fall if I wasn’t sure there’d be anything—anyone—to catch me.

But, fuck, I was already falling . . . so damn fast.

Elliot let out a quiet sigh.

It would be so easy to wake him up. To force the conversation, to get it all out in the open, but I was terrified of the answer I might hear—because if he was planning to leave—if this was just something temporary for him—then what was I supposed to do with the way I felt?

What was I supposed to do with this ache?

I exhaled, forcing myself to pull my hand back, resting it on my stomach instead.

I needed to calm down.

I was thinking too much, as I tended to do, spiraling into worst-case scenarios when nothing had even happened yet.

Elliot hadn’t said anything about leaving.

Hell, he’d asked me to stay. To just sleep and hold each other.

That wasn’t nothing, was it?

I clenched my jaw, staring up at the ceiling.

I had to let this be.

Had to let myself enjoy it without overthinking every damn second.

Because right now, in this moment, Elliot was here.

And maybe, just maybe—

He wasn’t planning on going anywhere at all.

I turned my head, watching him for another long moment, his face still softened with sleep.

Then, finally, I exhaled, let my body relax, and closed my eyes.

I wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring.

But tonight, at least, I could let myself have this—even if it was only one night.