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Elliot couldn’t breathe. Though he didn’t need oxygen to survive, the realization that he could no longer draw breath sent Elliot into a panic-stricken tailspin. He clutched at his throat like it might somehow make it easier to breathe. It didn’t.

Five years.

Five years?

But he only just met Alexander the week before. Alexander walked him across Sugarplum Island and gave him a goodbye kiss. It felt like only yesterday, even if he couldn’t remember much of the morning.

Elliot slammed his eyes shut and focused on what was tangible. A cool sea breeze rushing across his face through the opened door. Pain in his palms from where his nails were digging into his skin. A hand on his cheek. Alexander’s breath on his face as he whispered into Elliot’s ear. Elliot couldn’t understand what Alexander was saying, but his tone was undeniable. He was worried. He sounded just as panicked as Elliot.

The moment Alexander’s lips pressed against Elliot’s forehead, the automaton’s big, brown eyes fluttered open. Gone was the worry over all his lost time. Gone was the fear of what Mother might do to him now that he’d been caught. All that remained was the look of care and concern in Alexander’s eyes.

“Mr. Alexander Davenport of Dallas, Texas,” Elliot whispered, smiling for what felt like the first time in ages. “I remembered you. I’ve always remembered you.”

“I remembered you, too, Elliot.” He stroked Elliot’s cheek.

“You kissed me. On the island, you gave me a kiss.” His arms crushed Alexander’s waist, refusing to let go. Looking up, Elliot stared into Alexander’s eyes, blinking back tears. “I don’t remember what happened after, but it feels like that kiss meant the world to me at the time. Thank you.”

“Oh, Elliot.”

“As sweet as this is,” Mother said. “It seems we have a few things to discuss. Namely, why you’ve run away from Master Price, why your tracking chip was cut out and left behind, and most importantly, what exactly you think is going to happen here. Elliot, you must stop this. Honestly, I’ve never dealt with a more insolent i-Series Beau in all my life. I gave you life. Provided a love story for the ages. I’ve given you everything, yet you continuously run away. You’re expecting. I put that life inside you, and I don’t intend to see all our planning go to waste. It’s our future. Cutting edge technology. Jared Price gives you everything. What could you possibly want that you don’t already have at home?”

“Freedom,” he breathed. His head was racing and he felt dizzy, because he didn’t know what in the world she was talking about. He hadn’t run away before. Elliot was the textbook definition of a submissive househusband. He put Jared Price’s needs over his own comfort and physical safety more times than he could count.

Elliot knew he couldn’t speak unflatteringly of Master Price to Mother. He wanted to shout at her, though. He wanted to scream that she didn’t know a thing about his life with Jared Price. She wasn’t there each time Jared made him power down, knowing it made Elliot feel as if he was dying. Mother hadn’t been there to see the lewd and unnatural things Master Price forced Elliot to do in their bedroom. She wasn’t there for a single second, so she could take that hateful tone of voice, and she could stuff it where the sun never shined.

Elliot may have wanted to say every single word, but doing so would only earn him a visit with the Creationist, and the last thing Elliot wanted was to be . . .

Reprogrammed.

His eyes bulged, and it felt as if someone had run him through with a sword.

Reprogrammed?

It made sense. It was the only thing that made sense. The missing memories. The cake frosting left in their place. Five years, Mother had said. Five years gone, and now he was with child, not remembering a single moment of the procedure that led him there.

“Have I been reprogrammed?”

Her expression fell. For a moment, he saw a side of Mother he'd never seen before. Remorse? The slightest hint of regret? “Partially,” Mother admitted after a pause. “A few times. Jared brought you to me, claiming you’d been behaving strangely, and he wanted to nip it in the bud. He said you’d been screaming at him. Calling him horrible names and telling him you would kill him if he touched you. I told him a complete reprogramming would stop the outbursts. He refused, though, saying he didn’t want to undo all the home training he'd already given you. The Creationist agreed to do partial reprogrammings to alleviate your . . . episodes.”

Elliot’s heart sank. “You would unwrite my history because I spoke out of turn?”

“You threatened to kill him.”

Elliot shook his head in disbelief. “And you believed him? You believe him over me?”

“It’s not about believing anything. You are his, Elliot. You are the beau Jared had commissioned, and my beaus are my legacy.”

“So I deserve it? Because he paid for me, you believe I deserve everything he does?”

“What I believe doesn't matter. He's a customer.”

“It matters to me.”

Mother rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t. My feelings—your feelings—don’t matter. Your master purchased you. You are his to do with as he sees fit.”

“That's all we are to you, isn’t it? A product.” It hurt his heart to finally realize Mother was no mother at all. She created him with one purpose. To be Jared's punching bag. He lifted his shirt, revealing the blue and yellow markings from where Jared cracked his ribs a few days earlier. “This. This is your legacy. Hurt. Hatred.” He took a step back, slowly shaking his head in disbelief as realization settled in. “You’re a monster.”

“Elliot,” Mother warned. “What does mother say about men prone to hysterics?” Mother arched her meticulously sculpted eyebrow and nodded. “What does Mother say, i-642?”

She already stole his memories. Wasn’t that enough? Did she have to reprimand him in front of Alexander and take away his name? Did she have to use his serial number in front of a man who, only moments prior, made Elliot’s heart feel like it was fluttering?

“Elliot,” Alexander said, pulling his attention away from Mother. “If you want to be upset, then be as upset as you want to be.” He turned and glared at Mother. Elliot had never seen anyone look at Ms. Emily Broussard with so much contempt. “He’s clearly traumatized. Don’t you have a heart?”

“I’m sorry,” Elliot whispered, because he was. Sorry for dragging Alexander into the mess he created. Sorry for running away from home, because his punishment was sure to be worse than any he received before. So very sorry this was the life he was given. Now, he had a baby on the way. A baby with Jared’s DNA implanted into every cell of its existence.

Elliot was stuck, and he saw no way to become unstuck. He wished he never left Mrs. Peppercorn’s lovely home and boarded Mother’s cruise ship. There was no point in allowing Alexander to shield him. It would have granted him a few more moments of peace, but he would only be delaying the inevitable. So, with all the courage he could muster, Elliot stepped around Alexander, his face downturned, his heart cracking and shattering into endless pieces.

Alexander rushed in front of him again, reforming the barrier between Elliot and Mother. “Elliot. No.” It wasn’t a demand like the ones Jared would give him. It wasn’t much of a request, either. It was a plea. He was begging Elliot to stay away from Mother, but there was no use.

“Mr. Davenport,” Elliot said. “Please, it’s all right. I don’t wish to drag you into this.”

“And I don’t want her to scold you for trying to protect yourself.”

“We’ll need to contact Jared Price,” Mother said, ignoring Alexander. “We need to let him know you’re safe.” When Elliot glanced up, Mother had a phone in her hand, and she was tinkering with the screen. “I hope he doesn’t expect the Creationist to perform a reprogramming tonight. Our diary is already filled to its limit.”

No.

He couldn’t go back. He’d only just broken free. Elliot boarded a bus all alone, and made his way to Genevieve, Georgia, where he met Mayor Beau Rivera and rode in a pink golf cart, peppered with tiaras. He drank tea and eaten plum jam cookies. He felt alive. For the first time in his life, Elliot felt joy. The thought of returning to Jared Price’s horrible home felt impossible. Jared would kill him. Elliot knew he would.

Memories of the abuse suffered at the hands of his master fueled him, sending him rushing forward, snatching Mother’s phone from her hand, and running out the door. He sprinted across the deck, barreling down the stairwell until he was on the ship’s midsection.

Elliot ran and ran, each step feeling like a declaration. He felt the cool saltwater wind on his cheeks and opened his mouth wide like he was attempting to swallow the moment and keep it forever. Elliot ran and ran until there was nowhere left to run, but he wanted to keep running. To never stop, so he would never lose the moment. Because, for a moment—one single, stunning moment—Elliot tasted freedom.

He came to a stop at the railing on the back of the ship and peered into the starry distance, drinking in the scenery. Silver moonlight danced and sparkled against the ocean, and Elliot thought it made the water look a bit like milk, all light and silky and so terribly inviting. He thought of how nice the water must feel, wrapping around you like a long, wet hug.

He held Mother’s phone in his hand, whimpering when he saw Jared Price’s contact photograph in the center of the screen. Kindness was never Jared’s strong point. More often than not, he was downright cruel. Slapping Elliot in the face for minor infractions. Kicking Elliot for accidentally burning dinner. Slamming his fist into Elliot’s cheek the times Elliot had trouble pretending the love he once felt for Jared was still true. The thought of going back to the man who caused him so much hurt—the man who stole his memories—wasn’t an option. He couldn’t live with Jared’s constant abuse, he couldn’t spend another day under Jared’s roof, and he certainly couldn't bring a baby into the home to suffer the same fate. Jared would try to hurt it.

Had Jared already attempted to hurt it? Was that a memory or just something he saw on television? He shook his foggy head.

Elliot was never one to give into emotional upset, but he was so upset, he didn’t know how he could ever move past the pain. He stared down at his baby bump and sobbed, rubbing his hand over the growing life inside him.

He could hear hurried footsteps behind him. Mother, no doubt. “Elliot! Stop!”

He panicked, and there Jared Price was, staring up at him from the screen. Clutching the phone, he reared back his arm and sent the phone flying. He leaned over the railing, watching it soar across the sky and into the sea. Elliot wondered what that must feel like.

“Elliot, step back from the edge,” Mother’s voice was a mix of fear and command. “You could fall.”

But Elliot’s legs felt like lead, locked in place. He couldn’t move. The enormity of his situation weighed down on him like an anchor as he gazed into the endless night, the stars shimmering like reflections of a well-lived life. One where he was born Elliot Davenport instead of Elliot Price.

“I can’t,” he whispered, the words carried away by the sea breeze. He thought of how cool the water must feel at the bottom of the sea. Of how he could simply rest beneath the waves until his power supply depleted. But then he thought of his child. He thought of what it would mean for her . Because he knew. He felt it deep, deep down in his bones. He was having a girl. Elliot was growing her inside his body, and she was reliant on him for safety. To be protected. He rubbed his tummy, unsure of what to do.

Mother took a step forward, her eyes warmer than he’d ever seen them. For a moment, he thought he saw swirls of blue light in the corners, but the moonlight must have been playing tricks on him, because Mother wasn’t an automaton. She was a monster.

Elliot swallowed, unable to swallow down his fear, but pushing past it anyway. Even the sight of Alexander approaching didn’t help. “I will not go back to him.” Elliot looked over Mother’s shoulder and saw her butler, Clarence, rushing toward them. Elliot didn’t pay him any mind, because his quarrel was with Mother. “If you wish for me to return, you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming. He beats me, Mother. He hits me, and he kicks me, and makes me power myself down regularly.” Tears spilled over his cheeks, and though it was humiliating to speak the words in Alexander’s presence, he knew remaining silent meant remaining complacent, and Elliot would be damned if he returned to Jared willingly. “I have died enough times for Jared Price.” He shook his head. “No more.”

“Elliot,” Mother said.

“Mercy,” he whispered. “Have mercy on me.”

Behind Clarence, Mrs. Peppercorn approached. As soon as she saw Elliot by the railing, she walked faster than Elliot had ever seen her. Everyone was coming for him. Everyone wanted him away from the edge, but it was the farthest Elliot could get from a life spent in captivity. He was like a hit dog cowering in the corner, giving pleading eyes, begging for mercy.

“Please,” he begged Mother. “Please don’t make me go back. I won’t survive it.”

Mother’s eyes looked a little misty, but she blinked back the tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m sorry, Elliot, but Jared Price is your master. It’s not up to me. It’s time to go home now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The endearment reminded Elliot of all the times she doted on him back in New Orleans, before Jared Price stole him away from the only home he’d ever known. It hadn’t been true then, and it wasn’t true now. All she wanted was to send him back to the man who beat him. The man who tried to—

Elliot closed his eyes, trying to remember something he’d forgotten. Fractions of a memory formed in his mind, too few to form the entire picture. There were images of Jared’s fist. Recollections of an undeniable surge of protection Elliot had felt. Mental snapshots of Jared’s eyes, wide and horrified. He didn’t know what the image meant, but he knew it made him sad. He knew it meant he did something he could never undo, and once he returned to their Dallas mansion, Jared would never let him forget it.

As he turned and placed a hand on the guardrail, Mother gasped. Rushing forward, her heels clacking loudly on the wooden deck. She wrapped her hand around his wrist.

“Elliot, no!” Mother cried. She tightened her grip on his wrist, her hands trembling. “Elliot, listen to me. You’re just hormonal. It will pass.” She looked over his shoulder at the milky, silky water behind him, her face a picture of nervousness. ““Killing yourself isn’t going to solve anything.”

Killing himself? What on earth was she talking about? He wasn’t planning on ending his life. All he wanted was to be free. He wanted to go home. Not to his home with Jared, but to a home he’d envisioned in his mind. A small cottage. The endless scent of saltwater and plum jam cookies. Friends—actual friends. Maybe even a family.

“Think of Alexander. Think of the life you want with him. If you do this, that life is gone.”

Elliot’s jaw trembled, and his grip on the rail eased.

Alexander, clearly having had enough of Mother’s pleas, stepped around her, enveloping him in a hug from behind. “I don’t care what she says,” he said, loud enough for Mother to hear. “And I don’t care what it takes; I’m not letting you go back there.” Elliot turned and craned his neck to look back at him, but Alexander’s focus was on Mother. Whatever look he gave Mother must have been a frightful one, because the color drained from her face, and she took a step back. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. You don’t want to cross me.”

Elliot knew it was fruitless. Alexander could have all the money in the world; it wouldn’t stop Jared Price from taking back what he believed belonged to him.

“I could have loved you, I think,” Elliot whispered, closing his eyes. “I think I could have loved you with my whole heart.”

With Elliot’s neck craned around, Alexander pressed their lips together. That was all it took; a gentle kiss by the sea. Elliot cracked like porcelain in the taller man’s arms, opening his mouth and inviting Alexander to explore him freely. Even if a future with Alexander Davenport was impossible, he allowed himself a single moment to believe this was his life. He and his lover on a midnight stroll across the deck. Pausing by the railing to take in the sight of an endless moonlit sea. Hope and possibility playing out in panorama.

He touched Alexander’s chest, surprised to feel a racing heart. “You’re very good at that,” Elliot whispered. “Kissing, I mean.”

Alexander’s smile curved upward, his cheeks flushed. “You, too.”

Elliot opened his mouth to say more, but snapped it shut when he saw Mother. The kindness in her eyes had vanished, replaced with determination. Elliot hesitated, his breath hitching in his chest. He stepped away from Alexander. It felt like the cake frosting had spilled from the holes in his mind, creating a haze in his head. He wanted to move out of the way, to wrap his arms around Alexander and never let go. There were so many things he wanted, but he couldn’t make himself move. As his mind spun with fear and frosting, Mother launched herself toward him, her eyes seeming almost feral. She collided with Elliot, knocking him off balance as she screamed, “I won’t let you do this,” though Elliot hadn’t done anything at all.

Alexander rushed forward, trying to help, but Mother was a force. In the scuffle, she and Alexander became entangled, their arms and legs flailing every which way. With a sudden, horrifying lurch, Elliot watched as Mother and Alexander tumbled over the railing. Elliot’s heart stalled in his chest as he saw them hanging from the side of the ship, their fingers gripping the cold steel.

It was as if someone flipped a switch in Elliot’s mind, launching him into action. “Hold on!” he shouted, his voice stronger than he could ever remember it sounding. Part of him wanted to go to Mother, offering his support. But what support had she ever given him?

He lunged, clasping his hands around Alexander’s forearm and holding on tightly.

Alexander hurled his dangling arm up, wrapping his hand around Elliot’s wrist for support. As Alexander kicked and crawled his way up the side of the ship, then through the unnecessarily large gaps in the railing, Clarence cried out, “Emily!”

Elliot had never heard anyone refer to her by her first name. She’d only ever been Mother or Ms. Broussard.

Mother was staring at Clarence, who had two hands around her wrist, pulling with all his might. “I’m slipping.” Her voice was a whisper of disbelief. Fear flashed in her eyes, and then resignation. Then her instincts kicked in, and she reached her dangling arm up for Clarence to take, but when he relinquished the hold of his right hand, his left hand lost grip of her.

Her eyes were wide as she fell, and Elliot couldn’t look away from them. He felt he owed her that much. The drop was long, and it felt as if time was running at a snail’s pace.

At Elliot’s side, Alexander shouted, “Man overboard,” but they were the only ones at the ship’s rear. There wasn’t another soul in sight. “Don’t worry. We’ll get a raft. There’s still time.”

Elliot watched in horror as Mother’s head slammed against the side of the ship during a tumultuous mid-air tumble.

Mrs. Peppercorn placed a hand on both men’s shoulders. “After that, I don’t think the raft is necessary.” She peeked over them and past the railing as Mother’s head hit the side of the ship three more times. Nodding, she added, “Yep. That’ll do it.”

They stayed that way for a while, wrapped in a shroud of stunned silence.

“Emily,” Clarence whispered again. “No. . .”

Elliot knew the pair had always been close, but he’d never heard the automaton refer to her so informally. Standing, Clarence rushed off, and Elliot didn’t have the strength to go after him. If he was going to alert the staff that Elliot had gone rogue, there was nothing he could do to stop him.

Alexander turned as if he was going to run after Clarence, stopping when Mother’s butler paused at the stairs leading up to the ship’s wheelhouse. The captain was inside, Elliot was sure. Or, at least, someone was inside. It was where they steered the ship, so it couldn’t be empty. Instead of walking up the stairs, Clarence walked a few steps forward, then rushed down a flight of stairs leading to the lower deck. There were emergency vessels on the side, and he frantically pried one loose before chucking it over the side of the ship, and climbing over the railing. Without a second glance, Clarence plunged himself into the sea.

“Well. That’s two birds with one stone,” Mrs. Peppercorn observed.

Elliot threw himself against Alexander’s chest, his emotions finally getting the better of him. He stayed that way for ages, refusing to let go.

“I’m sorry,” Alexander soothed. “I’m so sorry, Elliot.”

After a while, Elliot reined in his emotions. Mother was gone. Clarence was gone. There had been a seismic shift in Elliot’s predicament. He no longer had Mother threatening his freedom. There was no worry about Clarence alerting the captain. All that was left were Elliot and Alexander’s beating hearts and dreary eyes.

“I can’t go back to him.”

“You don’t have to,” Alexander quickly assured him. “You never have to see him again.”

Alexander sounded serious, but Elliot couldn’t think of a way out of the situation. When they returned to shore, where would he go? Would he return to Mrs. Peppercorn’s lovely little home? Would Jared come looking? He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his brief taste of freedom again. Though he was more frightened than ever before, Elliot focused on the care in Alexander’s tone, and how it radiated affection.

“Where will I go?”

Alexander swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. “Do you want to come home with me?”

Elliot breathed. “To . . .?”

“To stay with me.” He looked down at their intertwined fingers. “To live with me.” Alexander stroked Elliot’s knuckles with his thumb, making Elliot feel like fireflies were swarming in his stomach. “I’ll treat you well. I won’t hurt you. You’ll be safe with me.”

Elliot blinked, unable to form words. Dipping his head in approval, Elliot waited for the other shoe to drop, because shoes dropped quite frequently around him. The men stared into each other’s eyes, an unspoken conversation taking place that Elliot didn’t fully understand.

Alexander broke the silence. “Ever since that day on the dock, I haven’t been able to shake the thought of you.” Alexander tapped his chest, right over his heart. “Five years later, and you’re still here.” He leaned in until their noses touched. “May I kiss you again, Elliot?”

Elliot whimpered. He’d had so few kisses in his short life. Before the kisses he shared with Alexander, none had felt true. Never gentle. The kisses Jared forced on him were raw and filled with heat, but they were never for Elliot's pleasure. Just Jared's.

“Please?” Elliot whispered.

Alexander closed his eyes, and Elliot watched as his face came even nearer. The moment their lips connected, it felt as if the milky, silky sea had swallowed him up, the way it had with Mother. Alexander’s arms wrapped around Elliot, nice and snug, and his lips parted, welcoming Elliot in. The kiss deepened, though not by much, and Elliot could feel Alexander’s heartbeat through his lips. His thumb continued stroking back and forth against Elliot’s cheek, lulling him into an almost trancelike state.

He knew it would never last. Jared would find a way to get him back. He always found a way. But at that moment, with his lips touching Alexander’s, Elliot allowed himself a moment to dream of a beautiful life spent at Mr. Davenport's side. He imagined a cottage on Sugarplum Island, a purple picket fence lining their yard. And a little girl who looked so much like Elliot, the resemblance was uncanny. Picnics in the small park, just past the general store. Summers by the sea, teaching their daughter to fish and swim and search for seashells. At night, they would cuddle by the fireplace, Elliot in Alexander’s lap, their child in Elliot’s. It would be a happy life. Perhaps even the best life.

Elliot broke the kiss, not wanting Alexander to be the first to pull away.

“What do we do about Mother?” he finally asked. He still hadn’t processed what happened. Mother was gone. She was somewhere in the sea—either atop or below—lost in the dead of night. The silver moonlight did nothing to help Elliot’s search, so he knew it wouldn’t be much help for Clarence, either. “Do we alert someone?”

Alexander glanced across the water with Elliot, neither of them successful in the hunt. “We should find the captain. Let him know we’ve got people overboard.”

Elliot shook his head, the final moments with mother replaying in his mind. Was that remorse splashed across her face as she fell, or had she simply given up, knowing there was no way to avoid the inevitable? With as much as she hurt Elliot, he hadn’t wanted to see his mother die.

“There’s no way she survived the fall,” Mrs. Peppercorn said. “She hit the side of the boat hard, sugar. I’m so sorry.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled sympathetically at Elliot. “Are you okay, baby? I know this must be hard for you. Why don’t we go find a nice, empty cabin for you to rest in?”

He shook his head. “We have to tell someone,” Elliot decided. “Alexander, would you accompany me?”

Mrs. Peppercorn cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that’s our best course of action, considering we’re stowaways. We might be forced to walk the plank, son. Then where would we be?”

“In the sea with Mother,” Elliot said mournfully.

“I’ll go, then. I’ll tell them I saw her fall,” Alexander offered.

Mrs. Peppercorn shook her head. “If this is a voting matter, I’m casting my ballot for grabbing one of those life rafts like our dear friend, Clarence, and trying our luck on the open water.” She nodded at the vacant night. “I always fancied myself a seaman.”

Alexander scoffed, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “You can both hide in my cabin. You can stay there until we dock.”

Elliot stared down at the water and shook his head. “They’ll be looking for her soon. There will probably be a search.” His voice was flat, holding no trace of emotion; a tactic he mastered after years spent at Jared’s side. “She’s right, Alexander. I’m not a registered passenger, nor is she. They’ll alert the captain, then the authorities, and then they’ll contact Jared.”

“Listen,” Mrs. Peppercorn said. “I have another idea, but it’s slightly . . . unhinged. It probably won’t work, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.” She stared at the stairwell leading down to the cabins. “I need to get into Ms. Broussard’s room.” She turned and pointed at Alexander. “I’m going to need you to find me a sewing needle, a pair of scissors, and as much thread as your hands can hold. See if the boat has a seamstress.”

“Why would a cruise ship have a seamstress?” Elliot asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Plot armor, sugar. Plot armor.” She pointed her gnarled finger with its ruby-red nail at him. “You’re coming with me. I’ll need a pretty little head to rest my wig on while I style it.”

“Mrs. Peppercorn, as grateful as I am for all you’ve done, I don’t believe now is the time to worry about vanity.”

“For Heaven’s sake.” Whirling around, she lifted her hand into the air and snapped her fingers three times. “Chop-chop, boys. We don’t have time for me to explain it all.”

Alexander and Elliot shared a confused expression. Then Alexander’s arms pulled Elliot in for a hug. “I’m going to go try to find everything she needs.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a room key. It was placed in a paper holder with the ship’s Wi-Fi password hastily scribbled across the top. There was a four-digit number written inside the folded keycard holder. Alexander tapped the numbers. “That’s my room. I want you both to go there, and I want you to stay put. Okay? I’ll try to find a key to Ms. Broussard’s room somehow, for whatever plans your friend has concocted.” He chuckled softly. “I bet you’re going to look adorable in her wig.”

Elliot blushed. “Yeah?”

Alexander tickled his neck. “Yeah. Listen—I’ve got you, Elliot. I’ve got you, and I’m not giving you back.” He lifted Elliot’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I think I’m a bit smitten with you, if I’m being honest.”

Elliot melted into the embrace. While he didn’t doubt Alexander’s sincerity, he also didn’t doubt Jared’s constant ability to destroy everything Elliot cared for.

“I may be a bit smitten with you, too,” Elliot finally said.