Touch And Go - Aiden Bates Page 0,61
assume. No, this is just a hobby.”
“He’s basically turned his hobbies into professions. Mountain climbing, cooking, piloting planes…” Richie counted them on his fingers while Eli tried to wave off the compliment and I beamed with pride. I was impressed by how well all the brothers had turned out, but Eli was especially talented.
He didn’t let the compliments go to his head though, and he waved off the chatter before he grabbed another piece of toast. “We’re search and rescue with the National Parks Services based around Washington, DC, mostly in Virginia and West Virginia national parks.”
“We?” Seb frowned.
Eli nodded to Uno, who was now on the couch and cleaning her paws. “She slips into domestic dog mode pretty quickly whenever we’re home, but believe me, she’s a bad-ass in the woods.”
“What do you do?” Richie pointed to Seb with his fork.
“I sling glasses at a bar in the downtown area while I wait to crack into high-level cybersecurity. I just graduated.” Seb shrugged, his voice quiet, like he was ashamed of his place in his career, and I turned to get a better look at him. His face was neutral, not its usual expressive. He was holding back. It worried me he might feel anything but proud of how far he’d come in life. It wasn’t easy without parents. Harder still with a family who didn’t support you.
Richie didn’t seem to pick up on the subtleties of the moment, or maybe he just wanted to lighten the mood, because he clapped his hands together and beamed. “Oh! You want to be a government drone?”
“Maybe.” Seb shrugged.
Richie rubbed his chin. “You should talk to Hunter, maybe he can hook you up with the FBI.”
Matt glanced up from his food for the first time in forever, and looked Seb over with a curious expression. A twinge of possessiveness prickled in my chest, and I swallowed it with a gulp of orange juice. It wasn’t like I owned Seb. We hadn’t even spoken about our relationship.
“That’d be amazing. Yeah, I’ll talk to him, I guess. Thanks for the tip.” Seb smiled at Richie.
Richie saluted. “I mean, I’d hook you up with some work, but the fire department’s technology is…well, it isn’t near what you’d be doing at the FBI.”
I glanced at the clock and flinched. Time got away from me again. “Shit. Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to get ready for work.” I took a long gulp of juice to wash down my last bite, and squeezed Seb’s hand. “You good here?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I was aware of the six eyes pinned on us as Seb smiled sweetly at me, and I lingered a little longer than was friendly, but couldn’t bring myself to dive right into a public display of affection, so I walked away and got myself ready for work.
With my bag packed, I stopped by the kitchen to grab some snacks on my way out. Seb and Richie were chatting on the couch with Uno at their feet, and I thought I was alone with my head stuck in the fridge when Matt’s voice startled me from behind.
“You’ve got it bad.”
I hit my head and almost dropped my tub of hummus as embarrassment flared color into my cheeks. “Do you know how scary you are?”
“You are a scary man.” Eli patted Matt’s back.
Matt just grunted, but a pleased grin tugged at his lips.
“But he’s right. You”—Eli pointed at me—“do have it bad.”
“Oh, c’mon.” I glanced at Seb and lowered my voice as a niggling doubt wormed up into my chest. “He’s way too young for me.”
“Uh, whatever.” Eli reached around me to put leftover bacon in the fridge. “You really like him.”
“He fits with you.” Matt coughed, as though clearing the sentiment from his throat.
What? Last thing I expected to hear him say. “What makes you say that?”
Eli stepped in. “He makes you smile. And…that’s enough for me.”
“That’s enough for all of us.” Matt gave me a meaningful look.
I braced myself against the fridge and looked back and forth between them. This wasn’t a conversation I was ready to have. I didn’t even really know how I felt about Seb, beyond being relentlessly attracted to him, fond of literally everything he did and said, and hating the idea of him being in danger…
Eli shrugged, then reached past me to put the maple syrup away. “Plus, he’s a cool kid.”
“He’s not a kid.” I surprised myself with the defensive veracity of my voice.
“What are we talking about?” I