Page 22 of Just Business
Pride. Justin’s pride said no. He pulled the umbrella out of the door and into his lap. “Thanks.”
Eli squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you. For this afternoon.” Gray eyes held him in the seat. “I know what you did and I very much appreciate it.”
Ordering for him. Pushing the conversation in other directions. Keeping Eli present. “My sister,” he said, his heart suddenly in his mouth.
Eli nodded. “You mentioned her before.”
“I couldn’t just...” He shrugged.I couldn’t leave you like that. Caught in the past.“Did they disown you because you’re gay?”
Eli scrubbed a hand over his stubble. “Yes. Though it was mutual. I left when I turned eighteen.”
Justin’s legs itched. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
Eli waved the words away. “It’s a tiny company, Just. We all get to know each other too well eventually.”
Just. The itching turned into a tingle and went straight to his head. Before he could reply, a flash of red and blue and the distinctivebloopof a police car made them both jump. Eli rolled his eyes and looked much younger. “Damn campus cops. You better go.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Justin opened the door and popped the umbrella before climbing out. “See you on Monday.”
Eli’s wave and smile when Justin closed the door made his ribs ache. The Audi pulled away. Eli Ovadia wasn’t just hot—he wasnice, too.
Shit. Shit. Shit.So many thoughts rolled through Justin’s brain as he wandered into Entropy, the little convenience store in the UC, and grabbed a Diet Coke.Nice. Eli was nice—and complicated. Human.
Hot. Commanding.
“Fuck.”
Someone next to him whipped his head around. “The hell, dude?”
Justin shook his head. “Sorry. Talking to myself.”
The guy let him be. He paid and headed to Don’s.
While it wasn’t pouring so hard—the rain hadn’t let up. He would have been soaked through, even though he took the more convoluted path through the maze of buildings to get him close to Hamburg Hall. Right before he left the Gates Center, his phone vibrated.
That was odd. So few people texted him. He pulled it out and didn’t recognize the number, but the content—Justin’s hand shook.
Figured you should have my cell. If the weather’s bad after class, call. Or if you need a lift to get your bike over the weekend.—E
It made sense that Eli had his number—he’d put it down as a contact. Likely Sam had it as well. But now he had Eli’s. When he could make his fingers stop shaking, he typed a reply.
Thanks. Will let you know.
No reply to that. The clock on his phone told him he had exactly eight minutes before he needed to be at Don’s office. Time to move.
Besides, Justin doubted Eli would approve of his being late.
***
Though the text from Eli had burned itself into Justin’s skull and rain still came down, albeit gently, he didn’t call. Trudging though the back streets of Oakland in the dark seemed the better idea. He sure as hell wasn’t going to show Eli where he lived.Welcome to my shithole basement apartment. Don’t mind the mold and the Goodwill furniture. Make yourself at home.
Yeah. No. Given Eli’s car, his expensive suits, and that he lived on Wightman, Justin could only imagine the wrinkle of his nose.
But his place was cheap and gave him somewhere to put his head at night. Justin opened the basement door and pulled mail out of a box that barely hung from the shingles. Never mind that the apartment broke a billion codes. You got what you paid for.
He closed the door, dropped the umbrella onto the tile, took two steps, and tossed his bag onto the kitchen table.
Class had gone well and his meeting with Don even better.You’re much more focused this term, Justin. Working with Anderson looks good on you.They’d talked about the capstone project, Don picking at his ideas until Justin’s fingers cramped from typing notes so fast. So many things to consider. He’d need to get with his group and discuss strategies, but it was all good and doable, andDon Millerthought he was on the right track.
