I turn back just in time to see the first of what I’m sure will be many tears drip from Eli’s eyes onto his cheeks. “What if… what if I’m too much? Will you send me back, then?”
I almost laugh. Too much? Not a damn chance. I cup his face, brushing his tears away with my thumb. He leans into my touch again instantly. “You won’t be too much. I know you might not trust that right now, but we’re patient. We’ll keep showing up for you until you believe it.”
Roman nods and his hand mirrors mine, cupping Eli’s other cheek.
“Okay,” Eli breathes. “I… I want to stay with you.”
The relief that rushes through me makes me weak, and I’m thankful I’m sitting down because I’m not sure my legs would hold me up if I was standing. Roman’s shaky exhale tells me he feels the same way. “Okay then. Let’s get your things together and we’ll head home.”
I let my hand fall from Eli’s face to his shoulder. He looks between my eyes and Roman’s. “How do you know it won’t be too much? What if I freak out again?”
The fear in his voice is easy to hear. His father’s rejection probably hit him harder than even he realizes. God knows it always hit Roman hard.
Roman brushes his thumb along Eli’s cheekbone. “When we get home, I’ll tell you about my dad. And my friend Holden. And why there was even a Hart Foundation for you to come to for help, okay? I think it will help ease your worries.”
Eli just blinks at him, his eyes wide and trusting. He’s hurt, but he’s not unreachable. He’s not broken. And thankfully, Roman and I aren’t easy to break either.
Chapter 5
Roman
When we got home, we showed Eli his room. It’s bare bones right now. A queen-size bed and a dresser, but he looked at it like it was the best place he’s ever stayed. And I don’t actually have that many details of his home life other than what I know about his dad abusing him, so it very well may be.
Beck assured him we could decorate it any way he wanted, and that we’d go this weekend and help him pick stuff out for it. He told us he didn’t need anything and that it was fine the way it was. But if I know anything about how Beck likes to spoil people, there’s no way he won’t eventually break him and get him to fill it with things he likes.
Now, though, we’re sitting in the living room, Beck and I curled up together on the couch, with Eli wrapped in a blanket in the armchair closest to us with Kassie curled up beside him. I just finished telling him the sordid details of my past, and he’s crying again.
I hate seeing him cry.
He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself, and Kassie nudges him with her nose. I know, justknow, he needs a hug. Part of me wonders if he’s going to be brave and ask for it again, but there’s no way I’m going to make him. Affection will never be held away from those who need it in this house. It never has been and it won’t be today.
I’m starting to untangle myself from Beck when he beats me to it. He jumps up and holds his arms open. Eli stands, quicker than I’ve ever seen him move, and steps into Beck’s arms, pressing his face hard into Beck’s chest. “Hey, easy,” Beck whispers. “You’ll hurt your lip again.”
There’s so much tenderness in his voice that it almost makes me sob. Fuck, I love this man so much. He’s so compassionate. Still so full of joy, and still so fucking good at sharing it, at filling up other people’s holes and empty places with it.
Beck brushes his fingers through Eli’s dark hair, and Eli trembles in his hold. He doesn’t rush him or try to act likehe shouldn’t be upset. He just holds him. Somehow, he always seems to know exactly what the person he’s with needs, and he’s so fucking good at giving it.
Watching Beck in full-blown protector mode never gets old. I have to admit, it’s nice seeing him in protector mode without him swinging on someone. Although, I already know keeping him away from Eli’s dad is going to need to be a thing. Not that Beck would do anything to put our foster license in danger.
Beck dips his head, whispering something to Eli that I can’t hear. It doesn’t really matter if I can hear it, though. I know whatever he’s saying is exactly what Eli needs to hear. He’s got an uncanny way of doing that. The only person I’ve seen do the same is Holden. Those two are more similar than they realize.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Eli asks, his voice muffled against Beck’s chest.
Fuck.
Beck swallows hard, running his fingers through Eli’s hair again. “Because you deserve it.”
It’s such a simple fucking answer. And it’s most definitely the truth. Eli sniffles, tightening his hold on Beck. Beck, love his heart, holds him tighter, like he can heal all the cracked pieces of Eli’s soul with sheer determination alone. And fuck, God knows he healed a lot of mine. Butthe first call I’ll be making in the morning is to a child psychologist.
I clear my throat. “He’s right, you know?”
Eli turns his head just enough that he can look at me. There’s a small ember of hope burning in his eyes, and its perfection. It might be tiny, and mostly overshadowed by hurt and fear, but it’s there, and we can nurture it and build on it.
Just like it felt like fate for Beck to walk into the bakery all those years ago, and for me to meet Holden, and for Beck and me to find our way back to each other. This feels like fate too. Like we’re meant to be here. Like Eli was meant to be outside my building. Like I was meant to find him. I know it in my soul.
Eli pulls back slowly from Beck’s arms and sniffles. “Would it be okay if I took a shower and went to bed?”
“Of course,” Beck says. “Do you need anything?”
