She gets up and leaves her seat, muttering as she goes.
Ezra, who is completely useless, starts laughing and almost falls off the couch. Thankfully, Elijah leans over and smacks him on the back of the head.
My attention shifts before I can stop it.
Elijah's already looking at me.
There's something restrained in it. His fingers flex where he sits, like he's holding himself back. Every instinct is telling him to come over, but he won't.
Not with River standing right here.
Emmet and Ethan both glance between their brother and me as Ezra rubs the back of his head with a scowl.
He really must be used to it by now.
River clears his throat, and I catch the glance he shares with Elijah. An unspoken conversation seems to linger between them before he gently nudges my shoulder.
“I’m gonna get a shower. You might want to follow that idea before you start permanently resembling a mix between a pile of shit and a smurf.”
I pinch him. “The only little shit here is you.”
He just chuckles under his breath. I don't miss the small, fleeting smile that lingers just long enough for me to notice, just as he turns and heads for the stairs.
“River Lawson!” Moira's voice rings out, thick with warning. “Don’t ye dare be trampling those filthy boots all over my carpet.”
I wince.
Because he absolutely is.
“Ah, he's done for,” Ezra says, far too pleased with himself. “She’s getting the spoon out for that.”
“I’m surprised that spoon isn't permanently lodged up your ass,” Emmet mutters, voice flat and unimpressed as he takes a sip of his drink.
Their voices blur into the background as they continue because Elijah's already making a beeline for me.
In seconds, he's in front of me and pulling me straight into his arms.
My home.
My unexpected love.
“You're going to get dirty.” My voice is rough, and my body trembles from the cold.
He doesn't let go. If anything, he holds me closer.
“I don't care,” he states, and I sink into him, warmth enveloping the cold still clinging to my bones. “Besides… I don’t mind getting dirty with you.”
I can't help it—my shoulders shake as I stifle a laugh at that, the corners of my mouth twitching.
“Ah, fuck. Don't dirty talk here. Ethan will pop a boner.”
Ezra groans dramatically.
“What? Don't be gross,” Ethan protests.
I just bury myself further into Elijah, grinning against his chest, ignoring them entirely, just focusing on his warmth and how at ease I feel being wrapped up in him.
“Alright, you two.” I pull back reluctantly as Moira comes into the room, arms full of towels. “You get yourself a shower, Love,” she says, giving Elijah a pointed look as her gaze catches the mud streaking his Christmas jumper. “You'll need to change.”
