Page 100 of Just Business
The world stuttered again, tripping over the word Justin had mouthed.Home.“Sure. We can do that.” Though his heart beat double-time, Eli ordered coffee anyway.Homecontinued to rattle in his head while they waited for Brian to make their drinks. When Justin took his hand, the word lodged itself in his throat.
He needed to be careful. They both did, but he had no way to ask Justin to slow down. Nor did he want to.
Two coffees and a flight of stairs later, they walked into the office and split only when they had to go separate ways to reach their desks.
Eli shed his outerwear and stared at his desk. Friday, he had loathed being here. Saturday, he’d vowed to quit. And now? Everything had changed.
Well, noteverything. He wasn’t at all surprised to hear his door click closed. The only question was whether it was Sam leaning against the wood surface—or Michael.
He turned and found Sam.
“Please tell me I’m not losing either of you.”
“You’re not losing either of us.” Eli sat down in his chair. “But it was a near thing.”
“I know.” Sam leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes. “Now tell me we won’t be going through this again in a couple of months.”
“I don’t think so. We’re... We understand each other better now.” He paused. “You were right about past trauma.”
Sam blinked his eyes open. “Figured I might be. Not like I have any experience with that.”
Sam’s own past had nearly kept him apart from Michael. “We’re going to take things slower. We both took so much for granted, and I should have noticed—”
“You’re not a mind reader, E.”
Eli fought with the idea, but Sam was right. “I know.”
“Good. ’Cause if you start with the ‘Doms know everything’ shit, I will kick your ass.”
Warmth touched Eli’s face. He was, on occasion, guilty of that line of thought. “I suspect Justin might get there first.”
“As he should.” Sam pushed himself off the door, and opened it. “You two really are ideal for each other.” A moment later, he disappeared into his office.
Justin must have heard Sam’s last words, because he sat openmouthed and ruddy-faced at his desk. Eli enjoyed that sight before waking up his computer. If he was going to stay at this job—which he was—he had quite a lot of work to do.
Chapter Twenty
Eli’s attic was a paradise compared to the shitty basement apartment. Now it felt like heaven. Justin stared at the computer screen. Done. His group had finished their capstone project.
Well, at least until the committee looked at it. But for now? It was complete and entirely cleaned up. Ready to be turned in. He closed his eyes and waited for the heady vertigo to stop. So many hours, so much research, so many arguments, negotiations. He croaked out something that felt both like a laugh and a sob as his head tried to touch the clouds that floated somewhere above the roof in the icy January air.
Celebration time. Justin flicked his eyes open and pushed away from the desk. More and more of his belongings dotted the room. Books, art that had escaped the flood. A photo of Mercy. Sometimes he even slept here, especially on nights Eli tossed and turned due to his leg. Or he did, due to nightmares.
Most of the time, he woke in Eli’s bed.
They ought to get the rest of the stuff from the Oakland apartment. It had been almost a week since he’d gone there. All his mail came here now.
Time to admit he’d moved in with Eli. Justin eyed his laptop. Ends and beginnings. He stood and headed downstairs.
One of the best things about living with Eli was learning his little quirks, from the annoying—he squeezed the toothpaste from the center of the tube—to the endearing. On the weekends, Eli read in the afternoons, usually some history book or another. Except Eli’s reading always turned into a nap on the couch, book splayed out at his side and Lavi curled up on his chest.
Like everything Eli did, he slept with intensity, so Justin could sneak up on him, even when walking down two flights of stairs in a creaky older house. Justin took a seat next to Eli’s sock-covered feet.
No reaction whatsoever from Eli. Lavi, however eyed him though half-open lids.
“Sorry, bud. You’re not gonna like the way I wake your dad.”
The cat rotated an ear backward.
