Heartbeat Repeating - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,45

sharp cry as the side of his forehead hits the table.

He slaps his hand to it, but it feels wet, and he wants to scream because now he has to answer his fucking door bleeding from the corner of his eye. And who the fuck got access to his building anyway? It’s the holidays, it’s cold as balls outside, and the building code is supposed to be doing its job keeping solicitors out.

“Listen,” he says, preparing a fuck-off speech as he swings the door open. And he regrets with his whole heart not looking out the peephole first, because it’s Alejandro standing there.

For a moment, neither of them move, then Alejandro’s face falls into something like fury and he shoves his way in past Avery. “Who fucking touched you?”

The whole thing is so bizarre Avery just stands there for a long moment until blood gets in his eye, and it burns. He realizes after a second what the fuck Alejandro’s talking about, and it should not be sweet or charming, but Alejandro looks like he’s about to do battle like a damn knight defending his honor. His heartbeat repeats a little ba-thump in his chest as he meets Alejandro’s blazing eyes.

“I fell off the sofa when you rang the buzzer. So…if you’re gonna fight someone,” he trails off and gestures at the coffee table.

Alejandro blinks, then deflates, but it only lasts a second. He reaches past Avery and slams the door shut, then he storms into the kitchen like he’s going into battle. He returns a second later with a clean, wet dish towel, and he bodily shoves Avery into his comfy chair before he kneels down and pulls his hand away from his forehead.

“You might need stitches,” he murmurs.

Avery nearly swallows his tongue. “Yeah, no. It’s barely a cut. You know head wounds bleed worse than other ones, right?”

Alejandro’s face does something very complicated, and his eyes get kind of glassy. Then he shrugs. “You’re definitely going to bruise.” He pulls the cloth away then puts it back on and lifts Avery’s hand so he can hold it. “You sit there, and I’ll pack.”

Stunned, Avery watches him stand and head toward the bedroom before the realization hits him, and panic floods every single atom that makes up his body. He’s being kicked out? Alejandro swore that all of this was his—that he got to keep it all.

“Woah, wait,” he gasps. His socked feet slide on the floor as he careens through his bedroom door, and he sees Alejandro rooting around the closet, coming out with his small travel case. “What the fuck do you mean you’ll pack? I thought I didn’t have to move.”

Alejandro blinks at him again—all soft and lost. “Move.” It’s not quite a question, but Avery thinks he should probably answer him anyway.

“I like this place. I don’t want to find a new one. And”—he glances at the case and his lungs deflate—“all my shit is not fitting in there.”

Unless, he thinks, this is some kind of vengeance because Alejandro blames him for all the rules they broke last night. He realizes Alejandro may be planning to take back everything he’s ever given. And it’s not like Avery can drag him to court considering what they’re doing isn’t legal in their state.

Alejandro drops the case on the bed and stalks toward Avery. He backs up until he hits the doorjamb, then he freezes when Alejandro’s hand reaches out and curls around his shoulder. The touch seems almost grudging, but he doesn’t stop himself, and that in itself is wild.

“I told you to sit and keep pressure on that,” the older man murmurs. At the words, Avery feels blood dripping, and he raises a shaking hand, pressing the towel back to his face. It’s probably disgusting and smeared, but Alejandro’s expression doesn’t give away what he’s feeling.

Avery licks his lips. “What are you doing?” And he knows he sounds like he’s begging now but he doesn’t care.

“I can’t,” he answers, then he takes a step back and rakes fingers through his hair, which makes him look disordered and God, Avery gets a little hard at the sight of it. “You can’t be here on your own for Chri—for Chanukah,” he corrects.

Avery rolls his eyes. “I know this shit is a big deal for you gentiles, but trust me, I’ll live. I already talked to my mom today and told her not to expect me.”

Alejandro’s jaw ticks with the tension in it, and he takes a step forward