Page 133 of Rules to Love By

Marcus melted into the sensations of Eli’s mouth over his, a hand cupped at the back of his head and another wrapped around his wrist when he put his own hand on Eli’s chest. He managed not to moan when Eli pulled away, but he couldn’t let go of his death grip on the front of Eli’s shirt while he tried to get his breath back.

Eli pressed his forehead to Marcus’s. “Dude. My thighs. I am seriously not in that good shape. Let me up.”

Marcus snickered again. “That an order?”

Pulling back enough to see him, Eli raised both eyebrows. “You pushing?” His eyes twinkled.

Marcus licked the last of Eli’s taste off his lips. “No, sir.” He straightened his aching knuckles and patted the shirt flat against Eli’s chest.

“Too bad.” Eli breathed deep, like he was balancing himself internally. “Maybe later.”

“Maybe.”

Groaning, Eli used the edge of the desk to push himself back upright. “Okay. First drawer, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Swivelling the chair back, Marcus found the little black key where it had bounced under the desk. “Right.” Bottom lip between his teeth, he contemplated his options. One drawer at a time. He ran a finger over the shallow relief of oak leaves around the edge of the desk. “I always loved this desk.”

“Someone spent a lot of time on it,” Eli agreed.

“I think she told me her great-grandfather was a woodworker.”

“A very talented one who maybe should have worked for Disney.” Eli stroked a finger over the back of a squirrel dashing up one leg of the desk.

“Yeah. Look. Every handle is different.” He pointed out the handle of one of the large file drawers. “This one’s a branch.” Next he touched the top left drawer handle. “This one is a bird’s wing.”

Eli leaned closer. “That’s amazing.”

“The middle one is flower petals, and this one, where she kept treats for me, is a chipmunk’s tail. It was the only one I was ever allowed to go in when I was a kid. She used to call me her little chipmunk because I would stash food—granola bars and apples and ramen soup packets—in my room.”

“Why?”

“When we lived with my mom, it was better for the girls not to leave their room when there were parties. We’d lock the bedroom door and the bathroom door that led to Mom’s room from our side and just stay in there, watching movies and stuff until everyone left. Sometimes it was days, so I started stashing food so we’d have stuff to eat without having to leave the room. Guess it was kind of a habit I still had when Iris took me in. Took a while to realize I didn’t have to do it here.”

“That’s…” Eli sighed. “Kinda shitty.”

“Is it?” Marcus looked up at him. “At least we had a roof over our heads and we didn’t get hit or worse.”

“Just neglected.”

“Yeah. Well. Iris took me in.”

“Sure.”

Marcus studied the tiny key, with its miniature skeleton key outline and acorn-shaped end. “Chipmunk, huh?” He slipped the key into the lock of the upper right-hand drawer and twisted. The lock turned, and the drawer slid open easily. Inside was a fat manilla envelope with his name scrawled in Iris’s shaky script, and a grape lollypop sitting on top.

Marcus stared at it for a long time.

“X-ray vision?” Eli said, but with a hand cupping the back of his neck and his thumb stroking his skin in a soft, rhythmic pattern.

“I wish.” Marcus lifted it out.

“Seems like a lot more than a will in there.” Eli hefted the envelope, like he was testing its weight.

“I can’t open it,” Marcus murmured, the realisation dawning.

“I thought that’s why we came?”

Shaking his head, Marcus placed a palm over his name on the front. “I’ll take it with me and make an appointment with Schiffer. He can open it.”

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