Page 9 of Close Quarters

“Parading,” Elliot repeated in a scathing tone. “I’m not parading anything. But whatever, I have clothes on.”

“You’re missing a shirt,” Leon pointed out in an amused tone.

“Probably because my shirt has shit on it, and I’m not going around smelling like a manure pile,” Elliot shot back.

“It’s almost like you’re on an animal farm where you’re expected to deal with the things animals do…like shit,” I said with a sigh.

“Whatever,” Leon said with a shake of his head, still sounding amused. “In any case, go get a shirt on, Elliot. The rest of the day’s yours.”

“Awesome,” Elliot said, his eyes glittering with excitement I could only wonder at. What the hell was it like to go through life with so much enthusiasm about…well, everything? And how the hell had his mood changed in half an hour? It felt like he’d been inches away from getting into a fight with me, but now he was fine. “What’s on the agenda for everyone?”

“Seems everyone is getting ready for a bit of wrestling,” Leon said with a shrug. “They wanted to do boxing, but let’s just say our liability insurance won’t cover bare-knuckle boxing.”

“Oil wrestling?” Elliot asked.

“No.”

“We could make do. I know the clinic keeps a supply of lube for different procedures and?—”

“And why do you know that?” I demanded.

His eyes widened, looking toward Leon, then darting away skittishly. “Err, it’s just what doctor’s places have, ya know? I remember going to the doc and finding weird stuff all the time in drawers, and lube was in there.”

“And I’ll pretend I believe that explanation and not have to do an impromptu search of your cabin,” Leon said with a sigh. “Honestly, Elliot, your mouth gets there before your brain.”

“Long before,” I snarked, also pretending that that didn’t summon up images my already tempted brain wanted to play with. Yeah, I was definitely going to take care of myself when I had a private moment later. Probably for the best. I knew the longer I went, the hornier and more pent up I got, and the more that happened, the more aggressive and less patient I got.

“Wait, that makes it sound like lube is contraband!” Elliot protested.

“It isn’t…unless you stole it from the clinic,” Leon told him in a deadpan voice.

“Ah, well…good thing that isn’t the case.”

“Yes, a good thing. Reno?”

“Oh fuck, what? Is this where you tell me you’re sticking me with him for another week?” I groaned.

“Oh, fuck you! Dick,” Elliot huffed.

Leon arched a brow, going quiet for a moment before shrugging. “You’ve got a phone call, so you’d better take that before you do…whatever you planned.”

“Oh…who is it?” I asked.

“Your sister, apparently.”

“That…doesn’t narrow it down, but fine,” I said with a shrug. “I’ll go.”

“Alright, good. You two enjoy the rest of your day,” Leon said with a smile. “As for rosters…we’ll see how I feel tonight.”

“Maybe you can find someone who isn’t going to find him annoying?” I offered, knowing full well the chances of that were?—

Elliot let out a bark of laughter. “It’s going to be Dom, Riley, or Leon in that case. No one else can fucking stand me.”

I glanced at him in surprise, raising a brow but saying nothing. It was the first time I’d heard him say anything negative about himself. People didn’t surprise me often, so I didn’t expect much from them. Generally, you could expect precisely what people showed you, whatever they said otherwise was easy to ignore. People, by their very nature, liked to hide shit that wasn’t all that nice from others and themselves.

It was the first time I’d ever heard him say anything about himself that wasn’t casual, let alone downright mean. Was he that aware of his effect on other people? Did he simply not care? And if he didn’t, why had there been a tightness in his voice that had disappeared by the time he’d finished, replaced with that same enthusiastic, chipper voice he always used?

“Probably shouldn’t talk shit about yourself when there are plenty of other people to do that for you,” I told him.

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