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Chapter forty-three

Elliot

I woke up to the sound of nothing.

No alarm. No traffic. No responsibilities looming over me like a storm cloud. There was nothing but the soft rustling of the trees outside, the distant call of birds, and the slow, steady breaths of the man beside me.

For once, Mike was dead asleep. He usually woke before me, watched as I struggled with the sun’s vengeful smile. But that morning, his face lay half buried in the pillow, his hair a mess of rusty curls. His mouth was wide open, and I could hear the faintest little snore. It was adorable. Seriously. Disney-level adorbs.

Oh, God, I said, “Adorbs.”

Even if only in my mind, it was wrong on every level imaginable.

What was this man doing to me?

I grinned, running my fingers down his back, watching the way his pasty, unmarred skin twitched beneath my touch. We were so different. Where I was dark, he was light. Where I was serious, he was, well, sometimes serious. Okay, fine, we were more alike than not. Still, I loved how my tanned skin contrasted with his near ghostlike features.

And his hair.

Fuck me sideways with a two-by-four, his hair was godlike. It made me want to eat it—though the thought of getting it stuck in my teeth ruined the mental image.

Was I still asleep? Were these insane thoughts a dream? That would explain so much.

I glanced up at the window. The fucking sun snickered.

I hated the sun.

In fact, I had never liked mornings.

Not until now.

Not until him .

I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the curve of his shoulder. “Morning, Professor.”

Mike groaned, burrowing further into the sheets. “Five more minutes.”

I chuckled. “You said that twenty minutes ago.”

Mike cracked an eye open, squinting at me. “You don’t know that.”

I smirked. “I do.”

He huffed but didn’t argue, rolling onto his back and stretching with a content little noise. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

Mike blinked. “Shit. We never sleep this late.”

I grinned. “I know. It’s kinda nice.”

“I bet you’re starving.” He sighed, rubbing his face before peeking up at me. “Breakfast?”

I snorted. “If you think I’m cooking, you clearly haven’t recovered from last night.”

“Then I guess we’re heading back to Gina’s.”

“She’ll smell the sex on us.” I groaned. “She’s going to roast us alive.”

Mike sat up, stretching again before grinning at me. “You say that like you don’t love it.”

I narrowed my eyes.

He wasn’t wrong, though I refused to admit it.

The second we stepped inside the diner, we knew we were in trouble.

Gina caught sight of us and immediately smacked her order pad down onto the counter, her hands flying to her hips. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she said, her voice carrying across the nearly empty room. “I thought y’all might be too ashamed to show your faces here again.”

Mike grinned. “Now, why would we be ashamed?”

Gina arched a brow. “Boy, you flirted with me, let me compliment that lineman of yours, then you both took your fine asses out of here without so much as a thank-you kiss or smack on the ass. Least you could’ve done was give me a little tickle for my trouble.”

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “Oh, my God.”

“Oh, don’t even start, sweetheart.” Gina laughed. “You know you love me. Why else would you come back two days in a row.”

“Because you’re the only restaurant in the mountains?” I asked.

She waved a hand. “You love me. Period. Plain and simple.”

Mike patted my back, grinning. “He really does.”

I shot him a look.

Gina smirked. “All right, sit your asses down before I make you cook your own damn food.”

We obeyed immediately.

Breakfast was just as ridiculous as dinner had been the night before. Gina made a scene of taking our order, loudly commenting on how Mike was “too pretty to be anything but trouble” and how she was “keeping a close eye on that one” as she scribbled in her notepad.

By the time we left—after a fantastic breakfast of biscuits and gravy, eggs, and bacon—I had been thoroughly humiliated, Mike had laughed himself to tears, and Gina had made us promise to come back before we left town.

I didn’t even argue.

Because, honestly?

I kind of loved it.

By the time we got back to the cabin, the morning had stretched into early afternoon, and the sun was bright in the sky.

Mike stretched, groaning. “I don’t want to just sit around all day.”

I raised my brows. “Getting restless?”

He nudged me. “A little. Let’s go for a walk.”

I blinked. “You want to go hiking?”

Mike laughed. “Not, like, a full-blown hike. Just a walk. Something leisurely.”

I considered it.

I did like the idea of being outside, of walking through the mountains with Mike at my side, the world quiet and peaceful around us.

And then—

Homer exploded from the back door, tail wagging violently, eyes wild with anticipation.

I barely had time to react before he took off, bolting through the trees at top speed.

Mike groaned. “Well. I guess Homer’s coming, too.”

I chuckled. “All right. Let’s do it.”

The trail was barely visible, winding through the trees like a forgotten path only nature knew how to find. Homer vanished, darting in and out of the underbrush like he was on a mission.

Mike laughed as we watched him disappear between the trees. “I swear to God, he’s going to find a bear and try to fight it.”

I smirked. “I’d put money on the bear running first.”

Mike shook his head. “Our dog is insane.”

I glanced at him. “ Our dog?”

Mike hesitated—then shrugged. “Yeah. Our dog.”

I nearly stumbled on a root. Mike caught me.

Of course, he did.

I reached for his hand, intertwining our fingers as we walked.

Mike looked down at our joined hands and smiled softly.

We didn’t say anything for a while, just let the woods stretch around us, the quiet pressing in—well, the quiet that existed when Homer wasn’t barking or whining or panting or whatever else he did like a crazed lunatic on crack.

The trail was soft beneath our feet, the scent of pine thick in the air. A breeze rustled through the trees, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the faint trickle of a stream.

Mike exhaled, squeezing my hand. “I like this.”

I looked at him. “Yeah?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against my skin. “Just us. Out here. Together.”

I swallowed past the tightness in my throat, my grip squeezing slightly.

This was nice. It was simple. It felt easy.

And safe .

I glanced at him, watching the way the sunlight caught his curls, the way his face was open and unguarded, happy.

God, I loved him.

I didn’t say it, not in that moment, but I let my hand hold his a little tighter, let my thumb brush against his skin, let my body lean just a little closer.

And he felt it.

Because he turned his head, met my eyes, and smiled.

Like he knew.

Like he felt it, too.