Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 25

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 25

“There you go,” Nick crowed. He swiped at a computer monitor that was already cracked,
shoving it to the ground with a loud crash.
Eli stared at the remains of the monitor, bouncing on his toes. “Hell yeah. Feel good?”
Nick looked up at him, his eyes wild. “Yeah, actually. Feels right.” He shook his shoulders like a
boxer readying for a match.
Fueled by Nick’s unexpected enthusiasm, Eli tucked his phone in his pocket and attempted
something he’d always dreamed of doing: flipping a table.
Unfortunately the round library table was too heavy. He couldn’t get a good angle with his
sneakers slipping on the tattered carpet.

-- 113 of 228 --

Nick immediately divined his intentions. “Here, we’ll do it together.” He put his phone in his
shirt’s breast pocket so the light still shone from the top, then took his place at Eli’s side. Their
hands braced against the lip of the table. “On three, ready? One, two—”
They lifted in unison. The table didn’t technically flip over, but it did tip upward before crashing
sideways against a nearby bookcase. Eli watched in horror as the entire bookcase swayed. A
headline flashed through his mind: Florida Man Squished to Death in Abandoned School Due to
His Own Hubris.
“Back up, back up!” He thrust out an arm and corralled Nick away from the imminent collapse.
Luckily, when the bookcase fell, it fell in the opposite direction, taking out the next row of
stacks, and then the next, each falling like dominos.
Eli had a firm grip of Nick’s arm by that point, and he could feel each wince they shared every
time a bookcase toppled with a bang. The explosive noises seemed to drag on forever until, at
last, they stopped. Dust and debris whirled through the air. Swollen, storm-damaged books
spilled in huge mounds all along the ground.
Nick coughed hard, waving away the dust. “You okay?”
Eli took stock of himself. “Yeah. I’m good. You?”
“Not a scratch.”
“That was wild.” He gave a nervous laugh.
Nick looked over at him, a streak of dust on his brow. He laughed too.
Soon they were both laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the whole thing. Real laughs, the
kind that made Nick shake and had Eli’s eyes watering. He realized he was holding Nick by both
arms now, and Nick was holding him back, and their faces were getting closer and closer. How
was that happening? Oh, it was Eli moving into Nick’s space, close enough that he could see the
faint stubble along Nick’s upper lip, the tiny scar on the bottom of his chin. Eli had been there
when Nick had earned that scar: pool deck, 1994, a slip and fall. He’d needed stitches.
He was staring. The room went quiet. Nick went still, his eyes wide.
“Eli?” he asked.
Eli had no idea how it happened. One minute, he was standing there. The next, he’d swayed
forward the barest inch until he was kissing Nick. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced and
the most familiar sensation in the world all at once. Nick made a high noise of surprise, and Eli
was sure he was going to pull away, but then he leaned into it, kissing Eli back with a kind of
devotion that made Eli’s knees weak.

-- 114 of 228 --

He let go of Nick’s arms to slide his hands up the planes of his broad back. Nick folded into him,
his own hands slipping to Eli’s waist. Eli took the invitation for what it was, pressing into Nick’s
hot mouth. It was a bad idea, but it felt too good to be wrong.