Touch And Go - Aiden Bates Page 0,26

reached towards my arm, then dropped his hand to his side. “Stay for the rest of the day. You need rest, and a hell of a lot of water.”

He eyed my chapped lips, and I chuckled nervously as I pulled the lower one between my teeth. “Why do you care?” It wasn’t like he knew me. I could’ve been a thief or a murderer.

The thick cord of his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Personal history. All you need to know is that I just do.” He took my hand with a warm, firm squeeze. “You’re free to go anytime you want. But you’re also free to stay. Speaking as a doctor and as someone’s who’s dealt with a lot of shit in his life, I think you should.” He smiled as his cheeks pinked all the way to the tips of his ears. “Stay, I mean.”

My lip stung from the pressure of my teeth as I sized him up. My head was abuzz with conflicting ideas, but under all the noise, I knew the answer deep in my gut. This guy was safe, and he wanted the best for me. Despite having seven nosy brothers, he seemed like a fairly regular, successful, well-put-together guy.

“Are you sure?”

He chuckled and nodded, like it was no big thing. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

9

Derek

I heated up the sautéed spinach and mushrooms Eli had left in the fridge from yesterday’s omelets, while butter melted in a skillet and I whisked together four eggs and a dash of milk.

Seb sniffed from his place at the table where I’d set him up with a glass of electrolytes. “Damn, that smells good. You’re a cook and a doctor?” When he spoke like that—with such hero worship—my dick twitched.

“Hardly. Eli’s the chef, I know the bare minimum to get by.” The egg mixture sizzled when I poured it into the pan, and I broke it up with quick flicks of my wrist until it resembled scrambled eggs.

He sniffed the air and leaned back in his at the dining table. “This is way beyond my diet of instant noodles and microwave pizzas, though.”

“I took a semester on basic human nutrition, and that kind of diet is way below the bare minimum.” No wonder Seb’s frame was lithe. Maybe it was more malnutrition than ballet classes giving him his dancer’s figure. I felt his eyes following me as I brought the pan to the table and scooped food onto our plates.

“And yet, I live.” He sounded sarcastic, and I chuckled and scooped an extra helping of spinach and mushrooms onto his plate for good measure. “Got hot sauce?”

Seb pushed to his feet, and I pointed at him. “Sit. I’ll get it.”

He grunted, but he obeyed and sat. “You always boss your guests around like a drill sergeant?”

“Yes.” But I smiled. “Of course, most of them like it.”

The hint of a smirk twitched at the edge of his lips, and I ignored it as I set the pan back in the kitchen and came back with a bottle of hot sauce, and then handed him cutlery. Sitting across from him, I was shocked into silence by those bright green eyes again.

“Thanks.” He piled a forkful of scrambled eggs onto a corner of toast, bit into it with a deep moan, and his eyelids fluttered shut.

My lower belly rumbled, and my cock jerked to life as he licked a wayward crumb from his lips. He opened his eyes, and I looked away, shoved a forkful of food into my mouth, and silently admonished myself. I wasn’t the kind of guy who went after someone else’s boyfriend.

“You said your brother’s cooking is even better than this?” Fuck. Even appreciation on this guy was hot.

The meal was okay but could have used more seasoning; there was always something missing when I cooked that never was when Eli prepared our meals. “This is nothing compared to Eli’s food.” I couldn’t resist. “You remember Eli? He’s the one with the black eye.”

And if appreciation was hot, contrition was an accelerant. “Ah… Sorry about that.”

“He’s had worse.” I glanced at Seb and he stared back with one cocked eyebrow. “Um, I mean, he works for search and rescue.” It wasn’t the full story of what I’d meant, but it wasn’t my place to reveal Eli’s entire back catalog of near misses, broken bones, street brawls, and run-ins with the cops.

“And your other brothers? They all seem, uh…” He twirled his fork in the air, as though trying to catch the