Page 65 of Cold Front
I hesitated, gripping the console a little tighter. “After my parents died… I didn’t think I deserved to have fun again.” I sat next to him.
Eli sat up immediately, all traces of his earlier teasing gone. He didn’t say anything—justlookedat me, waiting, giving me space to find the words.
I cleared my throat, pushing the words out. “I’m an only child. My parents were, too, which means I don’t have siblings or cousins. But my parents… they made up for it.” I swallowed hard, adjusting my grip on the console. “My dad and I used to play all the time. And after they were gone, I just… stopped.”
Eli’s gaze never wavered. “But you’re going to play again?”
I exhaled, the weight of the moment pressing into my chest. “Yeah,” I admitted, voice rough. “Because of you. You make me smile again… the real kind.”
Something flickered in Eli’s eyes—something steady, somethingcertain. He moved closer, his hand sliding against my arm, warm and grounding. “Your parents would want you to be happy, Niall. I know that much.”
I didn’t have a response. Instead, I let my eyes fall shut. Eli’s fingers skimmed along my wrist, nice and slow.
After a long moment, Eli pulled back slightly, his voice low. “May I?”
My eyes snapped open, but before I could answer, he gently took the console from my grip and placed it carefully beside us on the couch. Then, with a fluid motion, he straddled me, settling himself comfortably on my lap. His weight was a steady presence, grounding me in a way I hadn’t expected.
I pressed my face into the space between his neck and shoulder and inhaled his warmth. His scent was a mix of cologne, something subtle and clean, and the lingering traces of the meal we’d just cooked together. I could feel his heart beating and his breath warm against my skin.
Then he kissed me. Slow, steady—like we had all the time in the world.
Our mouths moved together in a kiss that was deep and desperate. It pulled at me in a way I hadn’t expected. His breath was uneven, and soft sounds escaped him with each shift of his lips, each brush of his body against mine.
I could feel the heat of him, the thickness and hardness of his dick pressing against my belly. It was the first time I’d ever felt a man like that—so close, so real—and there was no part of me that recoiled. Instead, something deep inside me stirred, a need I hadn’t known was there before, pushing through the confusion. It wasn’t overwhelming or off-putting. It felt... right. I wanted more.
But then, just as quickly as the intensity had built, a flicker of something else passed between us—a quiet acknowledgment that we both needed a breath. And as we slowly pulled away, the weight in my chest didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.
Eli grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “All right. Enough deep emotional revelations. I’m about to kick your ass.”
And just like that, the moment shifted—lighter, easier. I felt the tension slip away, and I let it go.
I let out a breathy laugh and shook my head. “You think so?”
“Oh, Iknowso.”
We set up the game, and soon, the apartment was filled with the sound of rapid button mashing, laughter, and the occasional insult.
Eli won the first round, throwing his arms up in victory. “Winner’s prize?”
I smirked, rolling my eyes. “What do you want?”
He leaned in, lips quirking. “You.”
I didn’t even hesitate. I kissed him, feeling his smile against my lips. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself have fun.
CHAPTER25
ELI
My body felt heavy—not with exhaustion, but with the unfamiliar weight pressing against my chest. A soft, bluish glow flickered across the room, the only source of light coming from the TV, still on from our late-night gaming. The rest of the apartment was dark, silent except for the low hum of the screen and the rhythmic sound of breathing.
I blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim light, my mind catching up to my surroundings. The couch cushions beneath me were too firm for a bed, but that wasn’t what had me disoriented. It was the warmth seeping into me, the solid weight against my chest, the slow, steady rise and fall that wasn’t mine.
Niall.
The realization settled over me, and with it came an ache I wasn’t sure how to name. His head rested against me, his face half-buried in my shirt. His arm was draped across my waist, and our legs were tangled together in the cramped space. The scent of him—clean soap and something distinctlyhim—was impossible to ignore.
We must’ve fallen asleep like this, but what made my breath hitch wasn’t the position—it was howcomfortableit felt. How natural. Like something I could get used to.
