Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 52

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 52

Nick tasted like marshmallow, proof that he’d snuck some in the kitchen while making the
cocoa. Eli loved that. He tried to remember the last time he’d made out with someone on a
couch. It had probably been back in high school. It had probably been Nick then too. Life was so
fucking weird, Eli thought. He reached for Nick, threading his fingers through his hair. Nick
moved closer, then closer still, until he was straddling Eli’s lap and kissing him like it was
necessary.
Thank god for weird.
Nick tore away from his mouth to kiss along his neck. Oh, that was playing dirty. Eli had always
been sensitive there, right below his ear. Nick suckled at the exact spot that made his toes curl,
which they did into the area rug. Was it a lucky guess or had he remembered?
Eli cleared his suddenly tight throat. “Should we—?” Talk about this? Have a frank discussion
about what this means? Stop kissing for a second so we can think clearly?
Nick leaned back to look Eli in the eye. His hair was a mess. “Take this to the bedroom?”
“Uh.” Eli goldfished for a second. That wasn’t how he’d planned to finish his question, but now
that the option was out there, his brain had turned into complete static.
“Or… not?” Nick’s face pinched. “We don’t have to—if this is too much, we can do something
else.” He shifted his weight in Eli’s lap. “Zoe sometimes comes out of her room at night to get a
glass of water, so…” He trailed off.
Right. This was not the kind of scene you’d want your small child to happen upon.
“I didn’t think of that,” Eli confessed.

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Nick shrugged one shoulder. “Christmas Eve. She’s more keyed up than usual. It’ll be an early
morning tomorrow.”
Eli got the message loud and clear: he should hit the road before Zoe woke up to see if Santa
had come. Not that he’d been expecting an invitation to stay the night. That implied something
serious, and this wasn’t serious. How could it be? Nick was still working through his stuff, still
figuring out things. Eli felt like a lump of coal had lodged in his throat. This was simply all part of
that process, right? Just an experiment for him.
He pushed all that into a corner of his mind. He could deal with that later. For right now,
couldn’t he enjoy what he had?
“Yeah, no, the bedroom. Let’s go,” Eli said quietly.
Nick’s room gave the impression of a tidy, barren space. There was nothing on the walls except
one photograph of Nick holding a tiny wrinkled infant, who Eli assumed was Zoe. The bed was
covered with a plain gray duvet and made up with hotel-quality skill.
“You still make your bed every morning?” he blurted out. “Who are you?”