I slowly comearound the next morning, still sleepy but smiling at the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Blinking my eyes open, I spy Erik in the kitchen wearing fashionable workout wear—a gift from our new friends last night—and his hair is loose. There’s an almost golden light from the morning sun, and he looks younger somehow, the perma-crease between his brows relaxed for once.
I stretch before slowly rolling out of bed and walking up to him for a quick morning hug.
“Hey.”
“Morning,” he rumbles, pulling me in tight.
Fuck, he feels good against my skin. I want to rub myself all over him…which is why I pull away and root around in my overnight bag for my pajama bottoms.
“There’s plenty of cream and sugar for you to ruin your coffee with,” he says, watching me as I pull the pants up over my ass. Refocusing on his coffee, he continues, “I’m about to head out for a quick jog. You good?”
“Sure. Hopper should be here—”
I’m interrupted by a knock on the door and go to open it.
“Hop!” I let him in, finding myself on the receiving end of one of his big, effusive hugs.
“I brought pastries,” he announces, holding up a slightly hug-crumpled box.
Erik comes over and takes a mini bear claw, toasting Hopper with it. “Thanks for lending us your place, man.” He turns to me with a quick smile. “I’m heading out now.”
“Okay.”
He leaves, and Hopper turns to me with round eyes.
“Looks like you two finally got it on,” he says, tilting his head toward the unmade bed.
I snort. “Not exactly.”
His disgruntled scrunch-face mimics exactly how I feel about the situation. I fidget with my fingernails, a question on my tongue.
“Hey—you okay?” he asks, setting down the box. “Did something happen?”
“Uh, no?”
“Then what’s this look?”
I take a deep breath.
“You and me—we’ve shared our sordid pasts, right?”
“Sure.”
“Mind if I ask you about something that isn’t murder-related?”
“Of course,” he says with a sweeping gesture.
I hesitate, then…fuck it.
“How did you transition from that life to having sex? Like, real sex.”
He shrugs. “I had sex with someone who didn’t treat me like an object.”
“Oh.”Makes sense.“Did you have to do it a few times before it felt okay? Or, like, does it still feel weird?”
Hopper grabs himself a cup of water, looking thoughtful. “No. The difference was pretty obvious from the beginning. Like, sex with someone who respects you is on a different planet in a different galaxy than someone who knows you’re there against your will and is going to fuck you anyway.”
“It is?”
