Page 8 of Kissing the Grump

Elliot makes his way to the opposite end of the couch and takes a seat, turning to face me. “The ad I answered was nothing like the reality,” he explains. “The apartment was clean. He appeared to take showers. Obviously, I was in for quite the surprise when I moved in.” He scoffs. “But finding something this cheap again will be difficult in this area. I don't know how long I can handle staying there either.”

Elliot would be leaving? The thought should thrill me. Instead, I find myself frowning. “Well, maybe you can save up.” And stay for longer, I tack on mentally because I've clearly lost my mind.

“I don't really have a choice. I don't want to go back home. I'm loving the city, even if I'm not quite used to it yet.”

“You don’t strike me as being from around here. Where did you move from?” Despite my better judgment, I cave to mycuriosity about him. I want to know more about Elliot, and he's already here. I wouldn't throw anyone out if their only option was to go back to Parker's place anyway. Elliot isn't special. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

Elliot looks at me, and I do my best to appear unaffected. But he does affect me just by being near me, and I don't know what to do with that. I want to ruffle that black hair and see what it feels like between my fingers. I want to check his skin to make sure it healed properly. And that's not even acknowledging the much dirtier things I want to do to him.

“A small town about two hours south of here called Clearwater. Wild name considering the closest water to the place is a good thirty minutes away from the city limits.” He arches a brow. “What about you? Are you from here?”

I pull on my beard subconsciously as I consider revealing personal details. Friendly conversation doesn't mean anything, and the interest shining in his green eyes appears genuine. Maybe that's the problem. Still, he'd answered my question, and I'm finding it harder to stay in my comfort zone of being an ass. Finally, I clear my throat. “Similar, actually. I was born and raised in Charleston, Texas. It’s the type of town that has one traffic light and one gas station with a population of less than a thousand people. I moved to the city for college and never left or looked back.”

Elliot tips his head, appearing to consider my answer. “I can see that. You give off a sort of rugged vibe. Country roots, I guess.”

Is Elliot seeing me that way good? Is he into rugged men? I want to slap myself. Who cares what Elliot is into. Except that I do. “Is that a bad thing?”

When Elliot looks back at me, his gaze travels down my chest before jerking back to meet my gaze. “No.”

His cheeks are pink and glowing brighter by the second. He's blushing, and it's fucking adorable. I don't bother arguing with myself over the new thought because it would be useless. The way his pale skin flushes so easily is cute as hell. It doesn't mean I have to do anything about it.

I'm not sure when the shy type became my thing, but I really want to see just how pink other areas of his skin bloom. Maybe even his ass if I spank him for things like walking into my apartment uninvited.

The internal argument with myself about Elliot is exhausting. I'm mentally drained and can't form a proper response. I let too much time pass and the silence becomes awkward. But what am I supposed to say? I shouldn't have even asked the question.

Elliot is fidgety, toying with the label on the water label before he sighs and stands up. “Okay, I'll get out of your hair and talk to Parker, but I doubt I can make him listen. Short of suggesting you make a noise complaint, I'm not sure what to do.”

I'd considered doing that, but not only did I want to see if it could be worked out between the two of us, I also hadn't wanted to involve Elliot. “I don't expect miracles, but something has to give.”

He nods and I feel bad because what I hear from across the hall probably pales in comparison to what he deals with, living in the same unit.

He’s taking up too much of my mental space these days, and now, even my time. I need to show him to the door. It's the smart thing to do. A part of me is reluctant, but I shove away the unwanted urge to keep him talking. I need to get back to work, and I need my head examined for loose screws.

I stand and Elliot follows me to the door. When I open it, he pauses in front of me. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. His gaze dips to my lips, telling me his thoughts hadbeen running around the same playground as my own. It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him what he wants, but I'm afraid he'll answer me. I'm even more afraid I'll give it to him. He needs to go before I do something stupid like kiss him.

I clear my throat. “Have a nice day, Elliot.”

His eyes jerk back up to meet mine as yet another pink tint lights his cheeks. “Have a nice day, Forrest,” he says so lightly it's almost a whisper.

Finally, Elliot brushes by me and I watch him as he enters his apartment and closes the door. The noise barely registers over my thoughts.

I want Elliot. And I want him bad.

I groan to myself at the admission and close my door. Leaning back against it, I scrub my hand over my face. It’s been months since I've really allowed myself to think about what happened with my ex-fiancé in detail, let alone examine my feelings. I usually shut down that train of thought as soon as the train leaves the station. Now I feel like I need to because I'm losing the war against keeping Elliot at a distance. I can feel it.

Mark had been younger than me, and younger than any man I'd dated when we'd started seeing each other. I'd fallen in love and planned to marry him. I thought he'd been on the same page. And then with one accidental text to my phone instead of the other guy’s, that dream had been shattered.

Thinking about it always makes me bitter. Or it had. At this moment, thinking about him and what had happened feels…insignificant. When had that changed? I frown as I consider the unexpected peace I feel over the situation and what that means going forward. Do I want to date again? Am I really standing here considering putting myself in the same situation as before?

Elliot is still another young guy who may not know what he wants. And while I sense interest, I don't even know that he's thinking about more than getting into my pants. I've never beenmuch into random hookups because I never could quite separate feelings from sex.

Why does he have to be so fucking cute? I curse as I push off the door and then make my way back to my desk. I have work to get done, and I'm glad for the distraction because when it comes to Elliot I don’t know what to think anymore.

CHAPTER SIX

ELLIOT

As I getready to leave work, I stare out the glass door as a summer storm rolls through the city. The torrential rain gives me pause, but my apartment is so close I make the decision to run through it, knowing I'll be soaking wet in a split second.

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