Page 78 of Pieces of Us

“Yeah, that fucker is finally gone. He told us where Elliot is, too. Actually, an operative from another mission is doing recon tonight on Elliot’s owner to see if he can figure out a way to get him.”

“Get him?”

“Well, buy him. Ronan—the operative—isn’t working a trafficking operation, but he buys slaves on the side and saves them. People think he’s the kind of man who… kills his slaves, but he really sends them to a safehouse like this one. If he can buy Elliot, he’ll pretend the same thing.”

Nolan shudders, his eyes going a little distant. I can’t help but think he’s probably remembering the men he’s encountered in his life who really do kill the slaves they buy. My gut sours with the thought. It’s even worse when I think of how easily Nolan could have been purchased by one of them instead of Travis.

God, I hate this world sometimes.

“Hey,” Nolan whispers, giving the hair at the back of my head a gentle tug. “You with me?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Just…” I look down at him. Down at this absolutely beautiful man I’m so fucking lucky to have in my arms right now. “Just thinking about how easily things could have been different.”

“We could have never met,” he mumbles, apparently thinking the same thing as me. “I could have been a slave for someone else. I could still be one.”

Rage and nausea churn inside of me. “Thank fuck you ended up in Travis’s compound.”

“Right.” He gives me a shaky smile, his eyes suddenly glassy. I can’t blame him. The thought of him still being a slave instead of being freed must be even more awful for him than for me. “So, uh, what were you thinking? For some us time?”

“Oh!” I step away from him, forcing myself to forget all of the dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm me. None of that matters. It’s all from a possibility that no longer exists. “I actually got you a present.”

He grins, cheeks flushing a little. “Really?”

“Really. Come with me.” I tangle our fingers together, pulling him along toward my room and sitting him on the edge of the mattress. I grab my bag I used for the mission. The cookbook is in the main pocket where I stashed it after browsing through the recipes on the plane ride home. I probably should have wrapped it or something, but I don’t think he’ll mind. I hide it behind my back as I come back to him. He looks so unbelievably happy as he stares up at me in anticipation, his hands resting on the mattress behind him to hold him up, his eyes bright, his lips stretched into a grin I could kiss for hours. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making this man so goddamn happy.

“What is it?” he asks, his eyes falling to my waist. “Show me, show me!”

I chuckle. “I don’t know. Maybe you should give me something first.”

His smile softens, his eyes moving ever so slightly from my waist to my—oh fuck. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, his eyes narrowing on my covered cock. That is not at all what I meant.

“Um—I—I’ll take a kiss,” I stutter. “If you’re willing. No pressure.”

He looks up at me through his lashes, cheeks pink. “You talk like I don’t kiss you every chance I get.”

“Right. Of course. I just meant—consent is cool, yeah?”

“Consent is cool,” he agrees, looking at me like I’m both incredibly strange and also hot as fuck. “Should I come to you for this kiss or…?”

“No. No, you—uh. You stay. I’ll… come to you.” I keep one hand behind my back with the book still in my hand and rest my free hand on the mattress beside his hip, leaning down. He smirks when our noses brush. “Uh—hey.”

He laughs, the sound so damn sweet it’s nearly a giggle. “Hey.”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“By all means.”

“Cool.” I press my lips to his, feeling all fucked up inside like it’s our first kiss again. God, I love him. I love him so fucking much. I give him just a little slip of my tongue before pulling back to look into his eyes. His gaze locks onto mine. I hear his voice echoing in my mind. I love you. “Nolan?”

“Yeah?”

I don’t care if he doesn’t remember the confession. I don’t care if it was a drunken mistake and he didn’t mean it. I don’t care if I have to wait years for him to feel the same way. I can’t let him go another second longer not knowing. “I love you.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Y-yeah?”

“So fucking much.” It drives me nuts not to have both my hands. I want to cradle his face. I want to guide him to his back and kiss him for hours. I want to wrap my arms around him and say those three words until my throat aches. I nearly hit him with the damn cookbook from how fast I whip it around to show him. He blinks, looking a little startled. “It’s a cookbook,” I say, like that’s not fucking obvious from the cover.

He blinks again before he accepts the cookbook with a huge grin. “It is. Oh, wow. This is—this is so cool!”

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