“They had this huge fight—”
“I’m gonna head out. Have to open early tomorrow,” I hear Elliot telling Oliver.
“—Me too,” I stand up quickly, midway through Matt’s walk down memory lane.
He raises an eyebrow at me. I ignore him and look for Mickey. He’s already snoozing on his bed in the corner of the living room. He’d hate me for waking him up.
“You have a shift tomorrow, right?” Oliver follows me to the living room.
I nod. “Why?”
“You can leave him here and pick him up after work tomorrow,” he offers.
My eyebrows go up at that.
“Matt has an off day too, so he can take Mickey for all the runs he wants to go on,” he explains.
I nod in understanding, and Elliot snorts.
We walk out together and get in the elevator. Elliot looks completely at ease, like we’re just two strangers. Should I bring up the text? But that will make me look creepy.
Too late for that, Nick.
Or I can broach the subject of the next date. We can have dinner again. Somewhere casual this time, not as fancy as the last place. Better yet, I can invite him over. Cook for him. Get him comfortable so that he can be interrogated again. Maybe loosen him up with some drinks.
We’re already walking towards our cars in the underground parking, while I’m still trying to come up with a way to talk to him. “You want to come over?” I blurt out when we’re standing next to Elliot’s car.
His brows furrow. I hurry to clarify, but then his expression changes. Is that regret? “I really do have to openthe clinic early tomorrow,” he explains.
Fuck. I nod. “Maybe some other time then?” I ask.
“Sure,” he shrugs.
“That is, if you ever get around to replying to my texts,” I say in a teasing tone.
“Texts? Plural?” he tilts his head.
I huff out a laugh. “Okay,onetext. But it was your turn to reply. Then I would have said something. That’s how texts work.”
“Your text was non-reply-able,” he says primly.
“That’snota thing, Elliot,” I say, but my stupid smile won’t let me sound serious.
“Your text created a newthingthen, Nicholas,” he stresses, and I suddenly realize we’re standing close enough that I could just lean down and taste those pink lips right now. His sharp, spicy-sweet scent surrounds me.
I notice he has some stubble on his face that’s too rare for him. Maybe he really is working too much.
Shit, what were we talking about? Oh yeah. “It was a perfectly normal first text,” I say without any heat.
“Seriously, a text about the weather?Normal?” his voice comes out a bit low, too. His gaze drops to my lips. There and gone.
This time, I do lean down, closing the gap between us, and capture his mouth. The heat hits me first. Then the softness. I move my lips slowly over his, savoring his taste. Sweet. Too sweet for Elliot.
I try to pull him closer, but it’s difficult because of the height difference.
Shit, what am I doing? I should have asked him if he even wanted this. What if I’m intimidating him into this?
I pull back. He looks dazed as he blinks his eyes open. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I should have asked—” He closes the gap again, rising onto his tiptoes. He takes my lip between his teeth and bites it just enough to hurt.
