“Because I thought that I could keep myself from getting hurt by pretending I didn’t have feelings for you. Because I’m clearly a complete and utter dumbass.” He nuzzled my fingers, and when he spoke again, his breath was warm on my skin. “I haven’t had a lot of luck with relationships,” he said softly. “So I just figured I shouldn’t have any.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“I tried to keep you from getting too close because I knew I was falling for you.”
“That makes no sense,” I blurted.
The smile he gave me was a little melancholy. “I never thought you would feel the same way. And then when you did… I panicked. Because I was bound to fuck it up somehow.” He snorted. “And then I very nearly did.”
“You didn’t?—”
“Oh, yes, I did,” he retorted. “I just managed to somehow convince you not to hate me, even though I fully deserved it.”
“El—”
The timer on my watch—attached to the wrist of the hand Elliot was holding—buzzed, causing me to jump a little and Elliot to look down at my hand in confusion.
“Cookies,” I explained, the flush creeping higher up my neck.
“I shouldn’t interrupt that,” he said, letting go of my hand.
It felt oddly cold now that his skin wasn’t in contact with mine.
“Okay,” I said, then turned, almost on autopilot, back to the kitchen to retrieve the cookies.
I brought Elliot a mug of milk with his, and he smiled at me, then set both on the side table. “Don’t leave,” he said, his voice low.
“I’m not going anywhere?” I had intended to go back to my spot on the couch, but instead stayed where I was, holding a mug of almond milk with my own plate of cookies balanced on the top. Elliot took it from me and put it with his on the table, then he took my hand and pulled me toward him.
“Closer,” he urged softly.
“El, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want that, either,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a kiss.”
I let him kiss me, or, rather, I meant to just let him kiss me softly, but the moment his mouth met mine, I couldn’t help leaning a little into him, my lips parting involuntarily. Elliot took it as the invitation it was, and he claimed my mouth with his tongue, his good hand fisted in the front of my shirt, pulling me into him.
I let out a soft grunt as I lost my balance, throwing out an arm to catch myself on the couch. Elliot let go of my shirt, but put his hand on the waistband of my jeans—it hadn’t technically been a work day, so I’d stayed dressed casually even when I went in to meet Lacy.
“El,” I protested, pulling back a little.
“Stop talking,” he told me. “And kiss me.”
I didn’t have it in me to argue with him.
35
Elliot Crane
Can you come back in here and help me take a bath?
Seth Mays
Do you want breakfast first?
Only if you count as breakfast.
I rolled my eyes,but my body reacted exactly the way he probably wanted it to. I’d kept things from getting too heated the night before—concerned about Elliot’s very recently post-surgical shoulder—and while he hadn’t said anything, I knew he had been disappointed.
