Heartbeat Repeating - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,63
either Alejandro or Garrett did some research, and although he eats pork bacon with little to no guilt most days, the very fact that the switch was made for him creates something warm in his chest.
He presses his hand against his sternum, like maybe he can feel it through his fingers, then he steals one of the pastries and moves to the coffee machine. His mug fills with the press of a button, and as he stirs in creamer, he glances across the room toward the massive windows that overlook the city. He can see outside, a fine blanket of snow across the tops of the buildings, and it feels romantic and wintery. It feels like a holiday should, and he starts to really miss Alejandro’s presence.
He gives up waiting, shuffling along the hallway, and he comes to a closed door. He knows he probably shouldn’t snoop everywhere, but Alejandro hasn’t given him rules to keep out of anywhere in the penthouse. He’s not the beast, and Avery isn’t beauty. There’s not some secret room with a rose holding all of Alejandro’s emotional pain. There’s just the ghost of those who have come before Avery, lingering in photographs and shadows. And he can’t find it in himself to care that those memories still exist within these walls, because all of those things helped create the man he fell in love with.
It never once occurred to Avery that he could have Alejandro without his past. He doesn’t want him to forget or to become someone else. All he wants is a chance to exist there with him, and to be part of his future.
Putting his hand on the knob, he considers knocking, but he pushes his way in instead. There’s a striking, visceral relief when he sees Alejandro at his desk, his eyes squinting behind reading glasses. He looks older, more distinguished with the way they perch at the end of his nose. His hair is a little mussed, and the grey is very obvious in the morning light. He’s wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled, and it’s only half tucked when he stands. His whips off his glasses, and for a second, Avery thinks he’s angry, but then his face goes soft.
He crosses the distance, and he’s right there in Avery’s space just as he gets the door shut. There’s a lingering second, and then Alejandro raises his hands and cups Avery’s face with an aching tenderness, speaking right against his mouth. “Good morning.” His voice rumbles across Avery’s skin, and he melts into a kiss.
“I wasn’t sure if you left,” Avery says after he gets some of his sense back.
Alejandro scoffs. “I hope I’ve never been that cruel. I just had some work to take care of before I can spend the day with you.”
Avery wants to point out that it’s the weekend, but he knows that with Alejandro’s job, there’s no real time off. There’s just the space between the moments his company needs him. And he can live with that too. “Did you have something in mind?” he asks, turning his face to gently nuzzle against one of the soft palms still holding him.
Alejandro steals another kiss, then he backs up and says nothing when Avery follows him to the desk. Dropping to his chair, he picks his glasses up, and Avery feels something twist in his gut because he’s never seen Alejandro in them before and God. He looks so good.
“Not really. Is there any sort of Chanukah tradition today?” Alejandro asks. His gaze lingers on Avery with an intensity that makes him shiver, so he leans back in the guest chair and tries to at least appear like Alejandro all rumpled and wearing glasses isn’t having the most profound effect on his body.
“My parents observe the Shabbat, so we’d be spending today in quiet reflection,” he tries to mimic his mother’s voice and fails then laughs at himself. “But honestly, that’s every Saturday. There’s nothing really particularly important about the second night.”
Alejandro hums, then he goes back to his work, and Avery’s a little startled. It kind of feels like a dismissal. Then he notices Alejandro glancing up every so often, holding his gaze for lingering moments before turning his attention back to the screen. Avery realizes he’s checking in—making sure he’s still there. His mouth is softer than it’s ever been. He seems like a new man—or, at least, the man that was hiding behind his fear.
When Avery realizes that’s