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Chapter Six

LAIKEN

I can’t think of a single reason that I can’t hire Elijah.

Telling Nason that I kissed his son and can’t stop thinking about his tight ass, so I think it’s a really bad idea is not an option.

A year ago, it wouldn’t have been an issue.

But the man Elijah came home as before Christmas this year… suddenly, he’s a new person.

He’s not a child anymore. I’m not even talking about legal age. I mean, he’s a grown-up now. He has maturity, intelligent thoughts, and passions. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since Nason brought him home, and I saw how hurt and scared he was.

My response hadn’t been that Papa bear one it had always been. I was angry and protective. I’d wanted to hurt the people who let this happen, and those who did this to him.

But it was also possessive. Obsessive. Consuming in a way that frightened me. I’ve never thought about someone as often as I do Elijah. Ever. Not my ex-wife. None of my past hookups or partners. No one.

Flirting with him the day he came over to make cock cookies had been my biggest mistake. I’d opened the gates, and now they’ve been blown wide. Kissing him was inevitable. I knew, even as I walked away from him, that it wasn’t going to end there.

Except that I haven’t seen him in the weeks that followed. If he was home, Nason and/or Miranda were home. Otherwise, he simply wasn’t there.

Now I have him alone, but we’re also not alone and won’t be all night. He hasn’t said anything to me at all. Not when I stopped at his house to head to work. Not when I asked him if he was ready. All I received was a nod of his head, and he didn’t meet my eyes.

My gut is all twisted. I don’t know how to fix this. I need to apologize. I need to explain why we can’t do this.

I need him to forgive me for stepping so far out of line.

I need him to stop wearing those tight fucking shorts that have me half-hard every time he’s around me. I don’t know which is more enthralling—the promise of what he’s hiding in the front or seeing those perfect cheeks framed like the work of art they are.

We lock our phones up at the dock and head to the ferry. My chance to say something was when we were walking to the dock, when there weren’t people surrounding us. We had at least a little bit of privacy at that point.

Gossip gets printed in black and white, though. For the entire population of residents to read. I don’t want anything I have to say or what I did to be repeated. I don’t ever want Nason to find out, and certainly not from the damn newsletter or someone else’s mouth.

People surround us on the ferry. Elijah leans against the railing, watching everyone as they pass. He waves. Says hi to our neighbors. Living in a place like this, it’s hard not to know everyone. I love that about Kala.

There are times like right now, though, that I actually hate it. There’s no privacy. Even when you think you’re alone, you’re likely being overheard. The only reason I know no one knows about me kissing my best friend’s son is because it hasn’t spread like wildfire.

The sun is well on its way to setting, painting the sky in beautiful shades of blue and purple, darkening by the minute. I don’t need my sunglasses, but I wear them since I can’t keep my eyes off Elijah’s ass. Especially not the way he’s leaning against the railing with his ass sticking out.

It would serve me right if he’s doing it intentionally to torment me. He certainly knows I have a thing for his ass. He figured it out when we were making cookies. There’s no doubt in my mind.

We’re awkwardly silent as the ferry makes its short trip to Etsumi. The silence remains around us as we walk to the Hinky Dinky Bar. It’s frustrating. There’s never been anything like this hanging between us before, and I hate it.

“What do you know about mixing drinks?” I ask. At least there’s work talk.

Elijah shakes his head. “Nothing. The only drinks I’ve ever had are ones you’ve made me.”

I’m not sure why pride fills my chest at that. I nod. “There’s a recipe book, but we’ll start with the basics. You can fill from the tap and hand over bottled beer and wine coolers. Pour some wine. That kind of thing.”

He nods without answering.

“Lie.” He doesn’t respond when I don’t continue. Then his eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, keeping my voice low enough that no one else can overhear. Even if they do, they won’t know what I’m apologizing for. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

He shrugs one shoulder and turns back to face the way we’re walking. “Sure.”

I sigh. There are a thousand things I want to say. None of which are words I allow out of my mouth right now. “You know?—”

“I don’t have to work here,” he says. “I just need to spend a short enough time here, and I’m sure someone will insult me. Then I’ll quit.”

“No.” He looks at me. “You’re not quitting like that. I’m not letting anyone treat you poorly, Lie. Never in my presence.”

He stares at me for a beat before turning his attention away.

We’re at the bar now. I think my tone was probably a little more aggressive than it needed to be.

I rub my face as I lead him to the bar. “This is Beth and Sam,” I tell Lie like he hasn’t met them dozens of times.

“Just look around for a bit. Get familiar with where everything is. Okay?”

Lie inclines his head and does what I tell him to. I’m keenly aware that he’s there, slowly wandering. Lifting lids and opening cabinets. He watches us work, watches us mix drinks. Watches the way we interact with the customers.

I feel his eyes, though he rarely looks at me. The sour feeling in my gut tells me I’ve hurt him, and I have to fix it. This can’t carry on like that.

He picks up a towel and cleans a water ring off the counter that I haven’t gotten to.

He’s at the far end where he and Cash usually sit.

I tend to take the third of the counter where he sits whenever he’s here, and since he’s almost always down this way, I think he naturally gravitates to that end now.

Which is convenient. It means we’re away from prying ears. “Lie.” Elijah looks at me. “Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze to watch what I’m doing with the drink I’m mixing. “It was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” His eyes meet mine again. “Not in the way you’re saying. I don’t regret it.”

Elijah frowns.

“You understand, though. I know you do.” I cap the mixer drink and put it in his hands, keeping mine over his for a minute as I show him how tightly to hold the two pieces together so we don’t have raining alcohol from his shaking.

It allows me to get close. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for months,” I whisper, and feel the way he inhales.

“Please don’t think this can’t happen because I don’t want it to, Lie. Nothing is further from the truth.”

A quiet burst of air leaves his lungs as his lips part. I take a step back and release his hands. “Shake.”

His eyebrows knit together, confused at my command. I smirk and tap the canister in his hands. He gives me a shy smile and bows his head, beginning to shake the drink.

“Harder than that. Put some strength into it.”

Elijah rolls his eyes, but I’m pleased to see that he’s fighting a smile. I let him shake for a minute, refusing to acknowledge more than in my periphery the way his cock bulge sways and jumps as he aggressively shakes the mixer cups.

“Good.” I hold my hand out for the cup, and he hands it over. He watches as I pour. Then I hand him the glass and the scanner to give to the customer.

He does. He even manages a friendly smile when he hands it over. I’m about to be pleased with this when I realize the fucker he’s handing the drink to is hitting on him. Fucking Elijah is playing bashful.

I growl like a damn dog and crowd Elijah’s space to wipe the counter. “Next,” I say, and feel Elijah’s amusement as he takes a step back.

I’m not sure I entirely fixed what broke between us.

What I know is that over the next six hours, the air that had felt tense and cold gets warmer again.

He’s still slow to smile at or even talk to me, but our eyes meet often and the heat that flares is intense.

It burns hot, filling the space so full that I’m sure everyone around us feels and sees it, too.

Throughout our shift, I bounce between teacher mode and obsessively, possessively jealous when the patrons flirt with this man. Not that I blame them. Not at all. Elijah loves attention, and he’s in his damn element when someone comments.

He also loves that I can’t stop myself from running interference every goddamn time, too.

By the end of the night, when we’re cleaning up, I’m far more exhausted than I usually am. I’m relieved that no one is trying to get in his pants right now. For the rest of the night, he’s not being ogled at by anyone but me.

As it should be.

Wonder if I can convince him that shorts like those should only be worn around me. Private showing shorts.

Elijah readily helps Beth, Sam, and me clean, which means we’re out before two with the extra set of hands. At this time of night, the ferries are almost empty. They primarily run for residents returning home from work.

I stand close beside him, our arms pressed together.

As with our ride to Etsumi, we don’t speak.

But the silence between us no longer feels heavy and awkward.

I’m still not sure I truly fixed what I fucked up, but at least he understands a little more about why I walked away, and doesn’t think I was just being an asshole.

By the time we get our phones and are walking slowly toward our houses, we’re entirely alone. The world around us is silent save for the occasional wind chime.

“Was I awful?” Elijah asks.

“Not at all. You did well.”

He nods. “Do you always get a ton of room numbers?”

I look at him, frowning. “What?”

Out of his pocket, he pulls a handful of napkins with room numbers on them. I take them, wad them up, and slip them into my pocket. Elijah smirks. “You’re rather cranky about letting me have some fun.”

“You’re allowed to have as much fun as you want,” I argue.

“But not with someone else.”

I’m walking myself into a trap. “You can be with whoever you want.” Oh, yeah. I don’t mean a word of that.

“Then give me the room numbers back, Laiken.”

“No,” I grit out.

He laughs. “If you don’t want?—”

“I told you I want,” I cut him off. “I said we can’t. That’s different.”

“Okay, fine. It’s different. But it’s not different at all. You don’t really think I’m going to become a monk because you can’t, right?”

I glare at him, which only makes Elijah smile sweetly. That kind of sugary sweet smile where they know they have you.

“You feel differently, then? You think… You think your father is just going to cry with joy if we…”

His smugness fades. His shoulders fall. “No,” he says quietly. “I don’t think that at all.”

“Then—”

“Laiken, I know. Okay? I get it. You’re not wrong. But you are wrong if you think you can prevent me from being with someone else because we can’t. That’s not fair, and you shouldn’t even ask.”

“I know. I’m not.”

“Then give me the room numbers back.”

“No,” I hiss.

“You understand that I have access to thousands of men any time I want, right? I can go to Ceto or Anapos, and fuck whomever.”

We’re close to home now, which is a fucking relief because I’m about to lose my shit.

“Whenever I want,” Elijah continues. “You can’t stop me. You have no right to stop me. I can find any one of those guys. Stop being a dick and give me the stupid room numbers.”

I grab his arm and haul him into the small gaggle of trees between our houses. He yelps, but I swallow the sound with my mouth over his. I press his back into the trunk with such force that I’m sure the bark is digging into him.

Elijah isn’t shy. He immediately wraps his arms around my neck, grips the back of my hair in a tight fist, and hooks one of his legs around my hip. Grinding his dick into me. I groan, but it feels more like a growl than anything else.

I’m going to devour this man. I’m going to kiss him until he’s nothing but a limp body in my arms. I’m going to suck his life out until he understands that his life belongs to me. No one will touch him. I know he feels how the thought alone makes me lose my mind.

I kiss him until I can’t breathe, but move my mouth down to his neck as I inhale. He moans, rocking his hips against me like a fucking vixen.

“You’re not having these room numbers,” I growl, nipping at his neck. He shivers deliciously. “Not now. Not ever.”

“I don’t want them,” he says. “It was never about the numbers.”

I lift my head to look into his eyes and realize that we’ve been playing each other all night. His eyes glitter in the moonlight. He has half a smirk, something smug and satisfied.

“I don’t want someone else. But don’t think for a second that if you don’t want this, if you don’t want to do this with me now, I’ll wait around for you, Laiken. You can’t keep me from seeing someone else.”

I narrow my eyes, which makes his smirk spread.

“It was never about the numbers. It was always about your reaction.”

“Little brat,” I say.

“Want to know a secret?”

I’m not sure I do.

“Three out of four of those numbers are fake.” The haughty look he gives me has me biting his lip hard enough that he jerks in my hold.

“Lie,” I warn.

He shrugs. “Yes or no, Laiken? I’m not going to play this game. Do this with me or don’t, but if you choose not to, that’s it. There is no second chance. I’m not waiting around for you to change your mind. I won’t pine after you. Do you want me or not?”

This is going to end badly. I know it in my gut. But nothing else inside me seems to care. I will lose my damn mind if I have to see Elijah with someone else. He’s mine. He’s going to be mine for as long as I can keep him.

There’s no doubt in my mind this is forever. There’s a lot on the line, and when it comes down to it, this is going to get really, really ugly.

Knowing this doesn’t make me let him go. Not this time. I lock my mouth with his and kiss him under the moonlight for fuck knows how long.