Page 34 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

“No?”

Elliot shook his head, dragging their foreheads back and forth against each other. “Never.” He pulled away long enough to graze Alexander’s eyebrow with his thumb. “I didn’t feel special with him, but you’ve made me feel that way.”

“Because you are.” Alexander kissed the tip of Elliot’s nose. “I think you might be the most special man I’ve ever met.” Pink lights flickered in Elliot’s eyes, displaying an overwhelming level of comfort and appreciation. Alexander stroked the skin beside Elliot’s eyes. “God, your colors are beautiful.”

Their foreheads stilled, and Elliot watched as Alexander closed his eyes before following suit. They stayed that way a while, just existing in the moment, letting the inklings of affection blossom.

“Did you still want to see me naked?”

“Please?” Elliot smiled widely before opening his eyes, and when he did, Elliot gasped. It wasn’t Alexander’s lap he was sitting on. It was Jared Price. His oily skin and poorly manicured beard. His cold, angry eyes.

“Did you really think you could get away from me? You thought I’d let you steal my kid?”

Elliot slammed his eyes shut and shook his head. Jared couldn’t be back. He just couldn’t. Not after Elliot had finally escaped.

“Baby?” Alexander whispered. “What’s wrong?” He kissed his way across Elliot’s forehead until he could finally open his eyes. Thankfully, Jared was no longer in front of him, only Alexander with an overwhelming look of worry on his face. “Are you okay?”

Elliot wanted to tell him what he’d seen, but he couldn’t find the strength to say the words. Alexander would hate him. He would see Elliot as a malfunctioning robot, and then Elliot would lose his only chance at happiness.

“Yes, I’m okay,” he said. “I’m sorry, Alexander. Maybe I have overexerted myself today. I don’t think I can . . .” He looked down at Alexander’s crotch. “I still want to show myself to you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for more than that. For tonight, at least. Is that all right?”

Alexander cupped his cheek. “We go at your pace. However fast or slow you want to go is just fine with me. I’m not in any hurry.”

Elliot gave him a nod before lifting himself off Alexander’s lap. Taking a few steps back, Elliot lifted the rainbow tank top over his head. He’d been so worried about wearing it to dinner, because he knew most suitors and beaus would be dressed to the nines, but it had quickly become Elliot’s favorite shirt—not that he had very many shirts.

Folding the shirt, he laid it on top of the dresser in the corner of their room. Next, Elliot unbuttoned his pastel-pink shorts until all he was left wearing was the banana hammock. He stared down at it—at the prominent bulge, front and center—and scowled.

“Is something wrong?”

Elliot shook his head. “I don’t understand. You called it a banana hammock. What does that mean?”

Alexander’s cheeks darkened. “I . . . I guess it means—”

“Alexander?” Elliot interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to mince words. I don’t shock easily.” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. I once shocked Jared when he tried to have his way with me as I was charging. He punished me after, but it felt nice to wake up and see his hair sticking straight up like a cartoon character.” The corner of his lip curled up. “Is it bad for me to say that I’m glad he got hurt?”

“If it is, then I’m just as bad, because there are things I want to do to that man that would break every point in the Geneva convention.”

Elliot cocked his head to the side. “Isn’t that about soldiers? You’re not in the army, are you?”

“No, but if it meant getting to kick his ass, I would enlist.”

Elliot’s smile stretched further. He leaned down, bringing his mouth to Alexander’s ear. “No. The armed services are no place for you. You’re a gentle soul.” He kissed Alexander between the eyes. “Less about the United States Army, more about this mysterious banana hammock. What does it mean?”

Alexander sighed. “I thought I might be able to skirt the issue by shifting the subject.”

“That won’t work on me. I’ve got the memory of an elephant,” Elliot said proudly. “Well, actually, I guess I don’t. I think I did at one point, but now everything’s been scrambled in my mind like eggs.”

Alexander chuckled. “It’s just another word for a Speedo. It’s called a banana hammock because it acts like a hammock for your penis.”

It was a silly expression, Elliot thought, but he found it rather endearing. He stared down at the outline of his shaft in his Speedo. It didn’t look like a banana. Just a long, curved tube. Elliot placed his fingertip on the bulge and slowly traced a path downward before looking into Alexander’s eyes.

“May I take these off?”

Alexander swallowed. “Please?”

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