Page 9

Chapter nine

Elliot

“All right, Elliot,” Mike said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. His glasses had slipped a little down his nose, and his eyes were sharp and curious, like he was preparing to interrogate me. “What do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” I asked as though he’d just slipped into speaking Croatian.

Mike smirked. “Yeah. You familiar with the concept?”

“Vaguely.” I shrugged. “I work a lot.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Lineman workaholic, got it, but when you’re not risking your life climbing power poles, what do you actually like to do?”

I thought about it. “I hang out with my friends. Play poker or darts or pool. Work out. Refurbish furniture, anything I can do with my hands.”

Mike’s eyebrows lifted. “Poker, huh?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Matty thinks he’s a professional.”

Mike huffed a laugh. “And I assume he’s not?”

“Absolutely not,” I confirmed. “He’s a disaster. He goes all in when he has a pair of threes and then hurls chiffon about when he loses.”

Mike grinned, taking a sip of his wine. “I’m guessing Omar’s the opposite?”

“Oh, Omar’s a menace. He doesn’t even react when he’s winning, just sits there, sipping whatever vile concoction he ordered, silently collecting all our money.”

Mike laughed. “So he’s the poker king?”

“More like the poker executioner.”

Mike shook his head, smiling. “And Sisi?”

“Sisi plays purely for chaos.”

“Oh, I like her already.”

I smirked. “She once bluffed her way through an entire game with a disastrous hand just to see how long she could make Matty panic.”

Mike laughed, full and bright, and I liked the way he didn’t hold back. Some people laughed politely. Mike laughed like he meant it, like every part of him depended on feeling it in his toes.

“That’s evil,” he said, shaking his head. “Now I have to meet her.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “You planning to face the friend test already?”

Mike tilted his head, amused. “And if I was?”

“Then I’d tell you it’s not easy.”

Mike watched me over the rim of his glass. “I think I could handle it.”

I didn’t know what it was about the way he said it, but I believed him.

Without thinking, I glanced at my watch.

“Have another date?” Mike quipped.

Dinner had gone too fast. I wasn’t the type to linger after meals. I liked routine, structure. I had a schedule, and it didn’t include getting distracted by a smartass English teacher.

And yet, I wasn’t moving.

I sat there, still watching the way Mike’s hands moved when he talked, still enjoying the way he argued over stupid things just to keep the conversation going.

“No,” I said. “Just checking. I have an early shift in the morning.”

Mike nodded, as though he’d expected as much.

“You know,” he said, pointing at me with his last slice of pizza, “you’re a lot less grumpy than I expected.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “I thought you were gonna be one of those strong, silent types who only speaks in one-word answers and intimidates people for fun.”

“And what do you think now?”

He pretended to think. “You’re still a little grumpy.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re a menace.”

“Thank you,” Mike said, grinning. Then his gaze flicked to the clock. His smile faltered. “Oh, shit. I didn’t realize how late it was, and you just said you have to be up early.”

I sighed, reluctantly nodding. “Yeah. Gotta be at work by four.”

Mike made a horrified face. “Four? As in four o’clock in the morning?”

I nodded. “Hazard of the job.”

“Elliot.” Mike leaned forward. “That is a crime against humanity. That’s unholy. That’s—”

“How electricity works.”

He sighed dramatically. “You should be cherished for your sacrifices.”

I huffed a laugh, standing up. “And yet, I’m just a humble man, doing my duty.”

Mike grinned and stood, grabbing our empty plates and stacking them. As I watched him, I realized I didn’t actually want to leave.

But I had to.

I had work.

I had a life.

And yet—

Mike followed me to the door, running a hand through his hair, his glasses slightly crooked, and I was suddenly very aware of how close we were standing.

The air shifted.

He looked up at me, hesitating.

I took half a step forward.

He swallowed, his fingers twitching at his sides.

I could see the thought forming in his head, the same thought forming in mine.

This was it.

I was going to kiss him.

I reached up and straightened his glasses, enjoying how he flinched, then leaned into the gesture.

And then—

BAM!

Something slammed into my leg with full force.

“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF—”

I stumbled back as Mike’s demon dog latched onto my leg with determination and joy.

“HOMER, NO!” Mike yelped, scrambling to grab him.

The dog wagged his tail wildly, humping my calf like it was his last chance for love.

I blinked.

Mike blinked.

Then I burst out laughing.

Mike looked fully destroyed, face red, as he hauled Homer off me like a football and held him against his chest.

“I swear, this is not a thing he does!”

I smirked, brushing off my pants, thankful my hands came away clean and dry. “Mm-hmm.”

Mike groaned, face in one hand, squirming pup in the other. “I hate my life.”

I grinned, stepping back. “Well, this has been an experience, Professor Albert.”

Mike peeked at me between his fingers. “Are you still going to call this a good date?”

I gave him a smile. “Definitely.”

He exhaled, looking relieved but still deeply embarrassed.

“Night, Professor,” I said, smirking as I turned for the door.

“Night, Lineman,” he mumbled.

I made it down the steps, shook my head at the sheer ridiculousness of my life, and climbed into my truck. As I drove off, I could see Mike still standing in the doorway, holding his shame of a dog, looking like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

I chuckled to myself.

We’d try again.

And next time, I was getting my damn kiss.