“No, but it sure makes me feel better.” Miserable, Elliot stared out into the restaurant, his gaze landing on all the happy couples enjoying their dinner. “What if he tells me it’s over?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Spencer snapped. “You’re in love with him. It’s in your DNA. You can’t help it, God knows why.” Frustrated, Spencer smacked his shoulder. “When are you going to stop being so stupid about men and listen to me?”
“You know what I love? This comforting way you have whenever I talk to you about a problem.”
Chess squeezed his arm. “Well, Spence has never been one to mince words, but he’s right…don’t you think?Areyou in love with him?”
Too ashamed to answer, Elliot shoved away from the table and swayed on his feet, but he breathed in deep to steady himself. “I’m going home. Tell Wolf I couldn’t wait.”
With Spencer’s arm holding him up, Elliot walked outside to wait for his car.
“I changed my mind.” Spencer tapped his cheek lightly and spoke as sternly as Elliot ever remembered. “Go home and sleep it off. You shouldn’t talk to him when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” he mumbled, then hiccupped, and Spencer hugged him tight.
“If you weren’t my best friend, I’d take you home with me. As it is, you’re too cute, and even I feel bad. I thought Detective Sexy was different.” The car arrived, and Spencer pushed him inside. “Remember what I said. Go home and sleep it off.”
“Mmhmm. G’bye.” He shut the car door on Spencer, and his stomach lurched as the car took off.
With Spencer’s words ringing in his ears, he wasn’t certain of his plans, until the Uber stopped in front of his house and he saw the unfamiliar car was still parked at Win’s. No light shone from the front, but once out of his car, Elliot peered around the side of the house and saw the glow from the kitchen. Maybe it was the ex-boyfriend and they were reminiscing about old times. In his slightly inebriated state, that only made him even more emotional.
“He’s gonna talk to me, no matter what. I deserve that, and he promised he wouldn’t do this to me again.”
He ignored Spencer’s warning as strong, determined steps brought him to Win’s front door, and he rang the doorbell over and over. He rubbed his eyes, damning himself for guzzling half of that third glass of wine.
“Who the hell is—” Win wrenched the door opened and stood in disbelief. “Elliot? What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk.”
