He listened. He just didn’t look as if he were listening. Odd, but it worked, so eventually I stopped calling him out on it. I trusted him to do his job, and he did it damn well.
My gaze drifts across the office, skimming desks and computer screens without really seeing any of them.
I’m not looking for anything. I’m looking for him.
My pulse shifts, steady but heavier. I tell myself it’s nothing, but the lie sits wrong in my chest.
The man who kept me awake the last night with his screams. And when I wasn’t hearing him, he was in my dreams.
The memory tightens something low in my stomach. His voice still echoes in the quiet moments, sharp enough to keep me awake.
His eyes, those lips, those piercings, holy fuck, those piercings. Heat flickers under my skin. I shift in my seat, adjusting my cock subtly before anyone notices.
Fuck.
I watch as Eli sits beside Finn. It’s fast becoming a familiar sight, Finn talking a mile a minute while Eli simply listens, the corners of his mouth lifting more often than they had this morning.
His shoulders aren’t quite as tight. His blond hair keeps slipping into his eyes, and every so often he brushes it away without thinking. Even his eyes seem a lighter color today. Something warm settles in my chest. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and I hate how easily it shows up.
His purple nail polish chipped from the tips of his nails. I should buy him another bottle. The thought hits too fast. Too intimate. My stomach tightens, and I force myself to look away.
I immediately shake my head. Where the fuck did that come from?
I glance back toward them. He is less guarded here, less rigid. I remember back to last night when he flinched whenever I moved too quickly.
This morning he did it when I handed him his breakfast. A sharp ache cuts through my chest. I slow my movements now without thinking, careful not to trigger whatever memory sits behind his eyes.
And there is the way he sat waiting for me to eat first. It’s as if he is waiting for permission. And that stirs something ugly inside me. My jaw tightens. The urge to break something rises fast, violent, and I have to breathe through it.
Someone taught him to flinch.
Someone taught him to wait.
Someone taught him to fear.
And those nightmares. The screams that tore out of his room last night. I knew those sounds. I’d heard them in barracks, field hospitals, bunk rooms. I’d heard them coming from myself.
Trauma has a voice, and it doesn’t matter whether it comes from a soldier or a civilian. Terror sounds the same, fear sounds the same, and I know Eli carried both. A cold heaviness settles in my chest. I’ve seen men crumble under less, and Eli carries it like it’s stitched into his bones.
I watch Finn and Eli, and I want to know what happened to him. Why do I want to find whoever put that fear in his eyes and make them pay? Anger churns in my stomach as I watch him. Something shifts in his expression, and he turns and looks straight at me. My breath catches. Just for a second. Enough to feel it.
I’m caught. For a second, our eyes meet. Just for a second.
My meeting ends, and I head for my office. At that moment, the front door opened, and I swear the temperature drops five degrees. The giant redhead walked in carrying enough presence to silence half the office without saying a word.
“Deck!” Finn waved him over.
I immediately noticed the change in Eli. His shoulders rounded, and he turned slightly away from Deck, and I watched as he lowered his gaze to his clasped hands. Eli looks like prey, and I watch as Deck catches it all in a heartbeat. My stomach twists. The instinct to step between them hits hard and fast.
I watch as he slows his stride and somehow softens his entire presence, and I have no clue how he manages it, but he’s making himself smaller, for Eli.
Deck stops a full step away from them before Finn speaks.
“Deck, this is Eli. CJ found him, and he’s staying with him for a while.”
Deck offers his hand and lowers himself slightly. “Nice to meet you.”
Eli shakes it. “You too,” his voice barely a whisper. The sound is too soft. Too careful. It makes my chest tighten.
