Page 26 of Elas

I tilt my head, watching a blush stain his cheeks as he realizes what he said. “Beautiful, huh?” His eyes dart to the table, and despite the painful memories, a grin spreads over my face. “Can’t say I’ve ever been called beautiful.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, but I only smile wider.

“A sexy beast, sure. Giant hunk of man meat.”

“Oh, my gods,” he groans, pushing his fingers through his hair as he shakes his head. “Forget I said anything. It’s the liquor talking.” He peeks up to find me still grinning, and groans again as his eyes lower back to the table. “Keep talking… tell me anything. What happened when you crossed over to our side?”

As the memories of those bloody battles flood my mind, all my levity vanishes. “That’s… not really polite conversation.”

August looks horrified as his head snaps up, his wobbly gaze finally sticking on mine. “Shit, I’m sorry, Elas. I didn’t even think about what I was asking. I just… like hearing you. We don’t have to talk about that.”

Absentmindedly, I pick at the plate of food. “Do you want to talk about what happened today?”

His eyes flare as they shoot up to mine, and he coughs again. “What? What happened? Nothing happened.”

“You were moved to the file room?” The words come out in a crawl, and he bites his lips between his teeth as he nods slowly.

“Oh, yes, that. Well… there isn’t much to say, really. If they don’t want my help, I can’t force it on them, can I?”

“No,” I admit as I lift my shot glass and nod towards his. He wrinkles his nose again before he reluctantly picks it up and clanks it against mine. This time, there are no tears, even if he does still wheeze a little.

“Speaking of forcing…” I drawl, tapping my finger against the side of my cup. “Xeni.”

An irritated scoff leaves his throat as he taps his glass against the table a few times. “Are we back to this? Xeni was just being friendly.”

“I don’t like him touching you.”

August’s tongue flicks out, catching a stray drop from his lip as he flutters those golden lashes. “Are you jealous, Elas?” My heart thumps in my chest as he leans forward. He’s drunk, and his eyes struggle to stay focused while his tongue is loose. “Did it make you mad to see his hands on me? Doing what you haven’t done?” His hand drops to the table, only inches from mine, and his fingers flex against the wooden top. “Because you’ve never touched me, have you?”

“Is that what you want, doc? Do you want me to touch you?” His gaze falls to my mouth again and his tongue flicks across his lips before he swallows. “Is that what this is about? Are you acting out because you’re trying to make me jealous?”

“So you were, then?” His eyes finally snap back up to mine. “Jealous?”

I recline in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest and twisting the shot glass in my fingers to keep them busy. “He’s trouble.”

“You’re avoiding myquestion.”

“Because you wouldn’t be asking it if we were sober. You seem dead set on ignoring what I tell you to do and focusing on what you’ll regret in the morning.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“No, you can’t,” I growl as I slap my hand onto the table, and he jolts as his eyes fly wide. “You might think you can, but you can’t. Don’t be fooled by the smokescreen of civility inside that clinic, August. Don’t think for a fucking second that there isn’t a single monster in that building that wouldn’t tear you to shreds for looking at them the wrong way.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” August leans forward, and I notice how unsteady his body is as he narrows his eyes and purses his lips. “I refuse to be scared all the time. How do you propose I stay safe?”

I lean forward, too, not blinking as I gesture down at his shirt.Myshirt that he wears so often it smells as much of him as it does of me. “If you smelled like mine, they wouldn’t dare to threaten you.”

“Smelled like yours?” he repeats, sucking in a sharp inhale as he steadies himself on the table. “What does that mean?”

My lips pull into a grin as I let my eyes trace the lines of his face and down over his neck. “I think you know what that means.”

A quiet whine leaves the back of his throat, one I don’t even think he’s aware he made. Suddenly, he pushes to his feet and teeters. “That… I don’t… I need to sleep.” He’s wobbly on his feet as he turns to walk away, but not before I catch the bulge pushing against the front of his pants.

Fuck, is he hard? From thinking about me covering him in my scent? My cock gives an insistent throb inside my leather pants as I stand and reach to steady him.

“August, let me help you.”

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, yanking his arm away before I can grab him. He stumbles and almost falls, but grips the back of his chair and shakes his head. “Just need to sleep this off.”

---