Page 164 of The Lineman

Thiswasnice. It was simple. It felt easy.

Andsafe.

I glanced at him, watching the way the sunlight caught his curls, the way his face was open and unguarded, happy.

God, I loved him.

I didn’t say it, not in that moment, but I let my hand hold his a little tighter, let my thumb brush against his skin, let my body lean just a little closer.

And he felt it.

Because he turned his head, met my eyes, and smiled.

Like he knew.

Like he felt it, too.

Chapter forty-four

Mike

Thesecondwewalkedinto the house, Homer lost his damn mind.

He bolted through the living room at full speed, paws sliding on the hardwood, skidding dangerously close to the coffee table before circling back around and launching himself at Elliot’s leg like a missile.

And then.

Then he latched on.

Elliot grunted as Homer wrapped his front paws around his calf, standing up on his hind legs and going to town.

“Jesus Christ,” Elliot grumbled, trying to shake him off, but Homer just tightened his grip, whining with deep, heartfelt devotion.

Mateo, who arrived just as we pulled into the driveway, had barely made it through the door. He saw Elliot’s face, then looked down at Homer and doubled over laughing.

“Oh my God,” he wheezed. “So, uh . . . which man of this house are you dating?”

Elliot shot him a murderous look while trying to peel Homer off. “I swear to God, if this dog humps me one more time—”

Mateo fell onto the couch. “I had no idea you were into fur. Is that your thing now? Like those guys who dress up as animals and shit?”

Mateo’s Italian accent somehow made the question even funnier than it already was. I could barely breathe.

Elliot remained as stone faced as ever.

Homer barked, apparently taking that as a challenge, and renewed his efforts with even more enthusiasm.

“He just really loves you, babe.”

Elliot glared at me. “Your dog is almost as much of a menace as you are.”

“Bet you cuddle after he’s done,” I teased.

Mateo wiped at his eyes. “I think it’s kinda romantic.”

“Homer!” Elliot barked, trying one last time to shake him off. “Get the fuck off!”

Homer let go with an exaggerated huff before trotting away, completely unbothered, his tail wagging like nothing had happened.

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