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“Nah, but I like the unexpected. Makes life fun and interesting. And you definitely seem like you could use some fun. Besides, you can never have too many friends, right? Hey, what are your pronouns, by the way?”
Elliot eyes me like I’ve grown a hundred new heads. Whatever, I can be sensitive to this shit. I’m not an asshole or a bigot.
“He, him works just fine.”
Elliot eyes me warily again and then rewashes his hands, drying them off quickly, like he’s trying to run away.
Good thing I run really quick. Got chased by the police a few times, but they never caught me.
“Not so fast, dude. Can I have your number? Please?” I interject before he can slip from the room. “And I know all the tricks. So, I need to make sure you’re not giving me some fake number, yeah?”
Elliot sighs, his shoulders slumping even farther. “If I give this to you, you willnotbe texting me at all hours. I have boundaries.”
I sit up and rub my hands together. “Oh, fuck. I love boundaries.”
Elliot stares at me. “Why don’t I believe that?”
“I love trespassing,” I add with a smirk. “Can’t do that without boundaries.”
“Jesus. Do not make me get a restraining order. Do you love those too?”
“Nah, that’s serious shit. I don’t mess with the law. Mostly. Sort of. Not really, if I’m being honest. But I don’t hurt people and I certainly wouldn’t run over someone’s foot with my car and then not stop to see if they’re okay,” I say, trying for a pouty face.
Elliot blows out a breath and mumbles, “This is some psychological warfare shit.” Looking resigned to his fate, he rattles off a series of numbers as I punch them into my phone and send him a text. His phone pings in his lab coat pocket.
He pulls it out and shows it to me. I see my number on the screen and beam at him.
“Put me in there as Bestie. BFF works too,” I tease.
“No.”
“Come on, Doc.”
“I will put you in as Luke. Nothing more, nothing less,” he mutters, punching the screen. Then he shows it to me. “Happy now?”
I glance at my name on the screen.
“Oh, Doc, you have no idea. You and I…we’re going to be pals.”
* * *
I stay away for two whole days before I crack. I never was very good at staying away from what I want. Self-control? Nah, that shit is boring. Who wants that?
Well, Elliot, maybe. He seems like the definition of self-control, all buttoned up and serious. I want to unbutton him, bit by bit. Not like that.
Well, maybe a little like that.
But mainly, I just want to watch that mouth of his turn up in a smile.
Or maybe even open for a laugh.
Yeah, I could go for that.
I pull out my phone as I turn my truck off and lean back in my seat.
Me:What are you doing?
Elliot’s response is almost immediate, and I smile. That little fucker was probably waiting around for me to text him. He seems like the type, all fierce and grumpy on the outside, but a total marshmallow on the inside.
