He blushes. “Not exactly.”
“Then why would he assume it?”
“Because everyone else fricking has.”
You can’t see into the bedroom from the stairs, but when we hear his mom call up from the base of the stairs, I still stand and move to the window to look out. I also take out Elliot’s burner and use the camera on it to snap a few pictures of the room, and video, to maybe one day show Leo.
“Your father’s on his way.”
“Did you tell him I’m here?” Elliot calls back.
“No, but I said lunch was ready and I had some good news for him.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He laughs and drops his voice. “Hope he isn’t scared shitless when he sees the motorcade. Don’t want him thinking I died or something. He’s already had one bad scare in his life regarding me. He doesn’t need another one.”
There’s a lot about Elliot I don’t know, including stuff like that. Personal anecdotes that aren’t part of his official White House website bio.
A whole life’s worth of anecdotes, including many secret ones that include Leo.
It’s overwhelming and I realize I need a moment. “Which way to the bathroom?”
He stands and leads me there, standing with his back pressed against the doorframe so I have to slide sideways past him.
Then he cages me with his arms and leans in, stealing a kiss from me before releasing me. The adorably playful look he wears makes me want to drag him in there with me and fuck him over the sink.
“Behave, boy,” I mouth to him as I nudge him out of the bathroom by closing the door.
I do need to use it.
I also need to take a few deep breaths and recenter myself. Being Elliot’s Sir full-time is hard fricking work. Leo’s a better Dom than I am, that’s for sure.
I’m thinking about calling Leo tonight, after Elliot’s asleep, and telling him multiple things. Starting with I’m back, I’m living with Elliot, the new status quo, and, oh yeah, by the way, Elliot’s declaring Sunday.
Except I’m not even ready to face Leo yet. How can I possibly judge Elliot for not telling Leo his news when I damn sure can’t tell Leo mine?
Although Ididtry to warn Leo that Elliot was going to run for POTUS. Months and months ago, before I left. If Leo chose to not believe that obvious truth, that’s on him.
After I finish and wash my hands, I remove my glasses, set them aside, and splash a little water on my face. I cannot believe I’m…here.
In Elliot’s childhood home.
Leo’s the psychologist, not me. That leaves me ill-qualified to form any kind of firm conclusion about the true whys of me being brought here today. I really believe there’s more to it than Elliot’s explanation. Mostly because, as Leo loved to mutter, Elliot can never do things—personal things like this—the easy way.
Elliot could have left me behind onAir Force Two, and I wouldn’t have minded. I even gave him that option back at Offutt.
He brought me here for another reason, and damned if I know what it is.
I definitely need to figure it out, though.
He’s waiting for me outside the door when I emerge, where he steals another kiss and squeezes my hand before we head downstairs.
We find his mom in the kitchen. “Have you told Stella you have a roommate now?” she asks without preamble.
Elliot snorts. “Nope.”
She starts pulling sandwich fixings from the fridge. “She’ll be mad and will demand you fix up one of those extra rooms for her.”
“She can be as mad as she likes, Mom. Not letting her live with me. I have no trouble telling her why, either.”
