Eli groans softly and rubs the back of his neck, still avoiding my eyes. The smile fades just a little from my face as I take half a step back…not because I want to, but because Foster’s right. The sweet man’s been through enough today.
“Easy, sweetheart,” I say quietly, letting the teasing soften. “Don’t go proving him right.”
He nods, though his face is still pink.
“It’s just an after-effect of the spell,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “My head’ll be fuzzy for a few hours, maybe until I can sleep it off. I’ll be okay.”
I study him for a second. He says it so casually, like passing out is no big deal. Maybe it isn’t for him, but that sure as hell doesn’t sit right with me.
“Good,” I say lightly, keeping the teasing edge in my voice. “Because I was two seconds from demanding hazard pay if you hit the floor again.”
That earns a small, embarrassed smile from him, and I let it stay at that. No more pushing…for now.
But as he moves to stand beside Foster again, I make a mental note. Find out what’s really going on with him. Figure out what triggers it. And make damn sure he’s never put in a position where it happens if I can help it.
He says he’ll be fine. I intend to make sure he actually is.
Foster looks up at me, then down at Eli before flicking his gaze back with a silent question in his eyes.
He yours?
He doesn’t have to say it out loud. I see it written all over his face. The curiosity, the warning, the smirk he’s trying to hide.
I don’t answer. Just let the corner of my mouth tilt into a slow grin.
Fucking right he is.
“Poor bastard,” Foster chuckles, giving Eli’s shoulder a quick squeeze before walking off.
Eli blinks, looking between us. “Did you two just have a silent conversation?”
I shrug, smirk still firmly in place. “Maybe. You’ll never know, sweetheart.”
Eli groans. “You guys are weird.”
“Yeah,” I say, watching him a little too long. “But you’ll get used to us.”
“Skip! Maverick! Tank!” Spike shouts from across the garage. “I need you massive fuckers to help get this piece of shit down!”
Laughing, I glance back at Eli and throw him a wink. “Duty calls, sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much.”
And with that, I turn and head toward my president in distress.
Chapter Five
Eli
The stairwell smells like old shoes and someone’s half-hearted attempt at air freshener. My legs ache, my head’s still a little fuzzy from earlier, and all I want is a shower, something edible, and maybe six hours of uninterrupted unconsciousness.The good kind.
I’m halfway through sticking my key into the lock when a voice echoes from down the hall.
“Waddell,” my landlord calls, voice sharp. “Got a minute?”
I bite back a sigh and glance over my shoulder. “Evening, Mr. Dorsen.”
He crosses his arms over his stomach, keys jangling in his hand like a threat. “Rent’s due tomorrow.”
“I know,” I say, turning back to the door. “You’ll have it by noon.”
