But before I can make my decision, his head lifts, nose to the sky, and a smile cracks open on his face as he catches my scent.
He turns in a slow, deliberate circle, searching for me in the crowd.
I’m not hard to find. You can usually spot me from the empty bubble that surrounds me. Or just follow the craning necks. They’ll point you in the right direction.
A few of them have the decency to look away as Elliot crosses the courtyard.
I’ll miss that when this is over.
His smile widens as he draws closer, not enough to reach his eyes, just enough that he looks more like himself. But any relief I find in it is quickly swept away as I spot the angry scar cutting through his eyebrow where a silver bar had once been, and the deep bruise blooming along his jaw.
A weight settles in my stomach, and I reach out a hand, unthinking, and rest my palm along his cheek. He winces as my fingers graze the sensitive skin, but he doesn’t pull away.
“What happened?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s nothing,” he says, leaning into my hand.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I was challenged on Friday. It was…”
He trails off, and he tilts his head beyond my reach as he decides not to finish his sentence.
“Did you win?” I ask.
His cheeky grin turns slick as his arms come around me.
“Have I ever lost?”
I shake my head.
“No.”
“Then, yeah, baby. I won.”
“Good.”
Elliot’s face brightens, and his hands find their way to my hips, squeezing me.
“Aw, and here I thought you didn’t care about me.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
He starts to laugh, hands moving steadily south as he drags me in closer. I press my palms into his chest to keep him from crushing me close, but the thump of his heart distracts me, and it takes me a moment for my usual smart reply to leave my mouth.
“I can’t lose my food supply,” I say, calling up a smile. But my heart’s not really in it, and I can only hope he doesn’t notice.
“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Not when it’s this good.”
He winks, and this time the smile reaches his eyes as his fingers brush beneath my skirt, and he grips my ass.
I don’t brush him off. The heat of his hands feels good on my cool skin.
“You work tonight?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Great, we have plans.” I smile to soften the blow. “And you’re going to hate it.”
