I laugh at the memory. “He looked so confused, all like, why is this man speaking words at me?”
“Exactly, but he humored your politeness and small talk. Hell, that's probably the most I've heard him talk. And that wasbeforeyou even got together. You're obviously more than just a hookup, dude.”
I smile. Can she be right? Maybe I can really talk to Elliot? What's the worst that could happen? He’ll stomp on my heart and make a biting remark about how bloody I made the place?
“Hey, remember when Matt tried to do the whole ‘trying to impress Ollie's friend’ thing?” Sloan pokes me on the shoulder.
We both dissolve into wheezes. It's hard not to, remembering Matt's sulky face at Elliot’s mean comments. He’s come a long way, though. Matt, not Elliot. Elliot is still a mean bastard.
Dominic smiles. ”I’d love to meet him someday. Maybe he can join us at one of the brunches? You could have brought him to the last one, I’m sure everyone would have loved that,” he says.
As if Elliot would voluntarily hang out with people he doesn’t know well and isn’t getting paid to be around. “Maybe. He had a conference thing in Arizona last time we did a proper brunch that didn’t turn into a work session,” I say.
Dominic laughs. “We’ve been doing that a lot, haven’t we?”
“That’s why we need to catch the killers, man. I miss brunch food,” Sloan whines.
Dominic nods. “I’m almost done getting the buyer lists from all the suppliers. There are just two left. I received one in my email when we were still at Estell’s. I’ll look through it tonight and send you the names that have any quantity discrepancies.”
“So, that’s what now, two hundred places that ordered higher quantities of the drugs more than once?” Sloan snarks.
Dominic nods. “I know that’s stilla lot, but it’s at least trackable.”
I yawn. “For sure,” I encourage him. “Hey, wait, why did you take this turn? There’ll be so much traffic right now,” I complain when I notice Dom has veered off the GPS path.
“Oh, don’t worry, I know a shortcut. My ex used to live here, so I visited her a lot,” he assures me.
Occasional trips do not mean excellent knowledge oftraffic density. But I just nod because it may lead to a heavy conversation. Any statement that starts with ‘my ex’ has the risk of that. And I’d love to talk about it, but I’m bone-deep tired right now. I flag it for a later heart-to-heart.
We run into traffic, and Dom apologizes a hundred times before finally dropping me off at Elliot’s. I know he’s home because he’s been coming back on time ever since he started crocheting and turned his house into a grandma’s wet dream. Not that I’ll ever say that.Idon’t want to be killed by slow poisoning.
Elliot looks surprised when he opens the door, but quickly schools his expression to his default neutral indifference within seconds. “I thought you had work tonight,” he says over his shoulder, walking into the house.
I follow him, albeit slowly, because I’m tired. I don’t even know why I’m here. I’ll fall asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow. And then Elliot would know I just wanted to be around him. “What are you doing up so late?” I ask him because it’s eleven.
He settles onto the couch, and I notice the crochet needle and the mess of colorful yarn beside him. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d finish the new collar I’m making for Mickey,” he mumbles, as if lowering his voice would hide the fact that he cares. At least about Mickey.Lucky dog.
I let out a yawn again. “Bed,” I say, taking the needle out of his hands and tossing it on the couch.
“Hey,” he complains while I practically drag him to the bed. I need him and sleep. It’s not like he’s making a real protest. He comes easily enough, hitting the living room lights on the way.
We strip quickly and lie on the bed on our sides, facing each other. He runs his fingers over my face, brushing them over my scruff. I relax deeper into the bed, and my eyes start to droop.
I pull him closer to kiss him. He pulls away. “Sleep,” he says.
“No, come here,” I complain, blinking my eyes open.
He rollshis eyes but kisses me gently, just lips against lips. I groan when he pulls back again. He laughs, not loudly, just a puff of air on my face.
“Where did you go today?” he asks, probably trying to tire me more or, hopefully, to wake me up. He gently kisses my jaw.
“Had to check someone’s alibi for this case,” I tell him easily. I feel soft lips against my cheek. My eyes close entirely.
“Tell me about the case?” he asks softly, his lips moving to my eyelids.
“So close to catching this bastard. Fucking Vigilante Wolf Hunter,” I murmur.
Then everything goes black. I don’t feel those lips again, but I’m too far gone to do anything about it.
