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NYC Artists 1 - In a Heartbeat

Page 7

by Decker, Ally


  She wanted to grab them all by the shoulders and shake them until they paid attention to Elliot. Well, Paula and Chuck didn't owe him much, but it would be nice if his own freaking family stepped up to the plate. Tori's question was the first one anyone had asked about his work tonight.

  In the end, it was Elliot who backtracked. He changed the subject quickly, to one that would be easy for the company. Don't mind me, have fun analyzing yet another legal scenario.

  Naomi reached out without thinking, but when his fingers tightened around hers hard enough to hurt, she was glad she had done it. It probably didn't change much in the long run, but it was all she could do right there and then.

  When they finally left the party, she inhaled the cold winter air as if it was the best thing she'd ever smelled. Finally.

  "So," Elliot started, pulling her in until they were pressed chest to chest. "Do you want those late night burgers?"

  Naomi shook her head, reaching out to trace his tired smile with her gloved hand. "Nope. But I wouldn't say no to some French fries."

  That turned his smile into a more honest one. "French fries it is, then."

  He bought them two servings to-go at the all night shop a block from his apartment, and they walked the rest of the distance eating in silence. There was no trace of the earlier tension in Elliot now, and when she pulled him into a kiss right after they got to his place, she figured she knew a great way to keep him relaxed.

  "Hey, you," she said when he was hanging their coats.

  As she caught his gaze, she unzipped her dress right there in the hallway and let it drop to the ground. Then she ran to his bedroom.

  Her laugh echoed his, when she heard him follow.

  ***

  It was much later, after they showered and went back to bed to lie down for the night, when Elliot looked at her for a long moment without speaking.

  "I'm sorry for tonight," he finally whispered. The words seemed strangely loud in the silence between them.

  And if asked, Naomi wouldn't want to have this conversation, she'd prefer to forget the damn party even happened. But she definitely didn't want Elliot to feel bad about the whole thing.

  "You have nothing to apologize for," she told him, moving her hand to trace his tattoo in an already-familiar gesture. "You warned me it wasn't going to be the best time."

  "Yeah, well, experiencing it is different than hearing about it." Elliot sighed, rolling onto his back and looking at the ceiling. "I seem to always do the wrong thing."

  If earlier words were whispered, that last sentence was barely audible. Naomi plastered herself to his right side and hooked her foot under his left leg.

  "You didn't do anything wrong back there," she insisted firmly.

  "Aiden probably thinks I planned it that way, planned for all of them to hear it," he continued as if he didn't hear her. "He thinks I'm confrontational. Fuck, what a joke."

  "Confrontational?" Naomi pulled herself up on her elbow to look at him. "But you're not! I mean, sure, you have your opinions, but I've never seen you itching for a fight just because."

  On the contrary, she thought. From what she'd seen and what she'd remembered from the old days, he always preferred to avoid conflict, to walk away from it.

  "Aiden thinks every time I do something that's not according to his perfect plan, I'm doing it to spite him. Or the family."

  Naomi huffed. "Quite an ego he has." Asshole.

  Elliot chuckled without any humor in it. "Yeah, well, that's one thing that didn't change."

  "Change from what?"

  She was looking at him the whole time, but she didn't notice a shift until it happened. One second, he was upset but resigned to it, relaxed in the knowledge of the status quo, however bleak it might be. The next, he was tense all over, and it seemed as if he would start to tremble with it at any second.

  Then, before she found the words to try and make it right, whatever it was, he spoke up.

  "We weren't always like that. Aiden, me, our parents—we used to be a normal, happy family. I had a great childhood for a long time. I was the youngest, so, of course, I wanted to be just like my brothers, follow them everywhere."

  For a moment, Naomi thought she heard him wrong, that it was just a misunderstanding. But Elliot's voice, damn, his face, his entire rigid body… It all suddenly made perfect and horrific sense.

  "Aiden was always good at everything—at school, at sports, at making people like him. Everyone loved him. I wanted to be like him, but even back then, as a little kid, I knew I couldn't. We were just too different. Carl, though—"

  Elliot paused, closing his eyes, and Naomi held her breath until he opened them again.

  "Carl was the nice one," he continued in a low, throaty voice. "He was the middle son and that's how it was between the three of us, too. He was always in the middle of me and Aiden. He'd push Aiden to allow me to play with them, and he'd also make sure I left Aiden alone when he really needed it. It worked."

  Naomi wanted him to stop. She wanted to say something, do something to break this, to find an excuse to leave. There was a small part of her that wished her phone would ring and pull her away.

  She stayed in place, though, her palm covering his tattoo and the wildly beating heart.

  "One day, Aiden had this big football game. They were going to State Championship finals if they won. We were all very excited and couldn't wait to go see it. Even though we tried to go to most of them, sometimes only one of our parents could make it, but this time me and Carl were very adamant we had to be there. But, as it happened, I broke my wrist falling from my bike that afternoon as I was speeding to get back on time from my friend's house. Mom decided to take me to the ER and Carl was so mad at me for ruining our plans. After a lot of shouting and crying, he and dad left for the game, and me and mom went to see the doctor. We were still waiting when she got a call." Elliot swallowed. "They never even got to Aiden's school. A drunk driver hit them a mile out. My dad, he had a few cracked ribs and a concussion. Carl, though… He didn't make it. A broken rib punctured his heart, he bled out before the help could get there."

  Naomi fought a shiver, clinging to Elliot harder. There were no words, nothing, that could make any of this right. All she could do was hold on.

  So she did.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Elliot had gone through an out of body experience only once before—back at that hospital, after his mother had answered the call—but it was similar now. He heard himself speak, he felt Naomi there, embracing him and keeping him pinned down with her body, but he also seemed to be watching himself from the distance. He was there, but he wasn't. The mess of emotions was right there, too, but also behind a big wall he couldn't—or maybe wouldn't—break through.

  "Aiden had never played another game again," he added, like an afterthought. "Neither of us were ever the same, after."

  With Naomi silent, he didn't know what to do next. It was the first time he had ever told that story to anyone and he felt as if he'd run a marathon instead. His muscles were straining with how tense they were, his heart was going twice as fast as it should be, and he felt cold, even with the covers and Naomi's warmth.

  Naomi.

  That thought finally penetrated the fog and his mind clicked back into place, it seemed.

  He pulled her closer, holding her for a while as neither of them spoke, but then there was an itch in the back of his head, the nagging rush to move.

  "I need a shower." He pulled away from her and sat up. "I'll be right back."

  He was trembling when he got to the bathroom and closed the door. Cold tiles, he told himself, and walked into the shower to turn on the water. While usually he didn't like it too hot, now he set the temperature as high as he could stand it. It took a long time for his shivers to subside, but even when they did, he kept standing under the spray, unmoving, absorbing the heat. He rested his hands against the wall and leaned on them as he watched the water fall all around him and swirl around his feet.
In the back of his head, he knew he should get out, get back to bed, but the rest of him felt like he couldn't move.

  Then the shower door opened and in walked Naomi, who curled her arms around him from behind and plastered herself to his back. She was naked and warm, and just there, and, fuck, there was no way Elliot was going to cry over memories that were twenty years old. He'd mourned his brother a long time ago, and this shit with his family wasn't going to bring it all back just because he had a bone to pick with how they dealt with things.

  Still, it took him a long while to speak.

  "I'm fine."

  She hummed something that might have sounded like agreement. "I'm wet."

  Elliot snorted out of surprise and turned to return her embrace. "What?"

  "I don't know, that's the first thing that came to my mind." She shrugged as she ran her hands up his chest to his neck.

  He offered her a half-smile as he pushed the wet strands from her face. "You didn't have to come in," he said. "But I appreciate the sacrifice."

  She smiled back. "It was a sacrifice, indeed. The water's getting cold, you know."

  He only noticed it when she pointed it out. The water was no longer hot, but lukewarm. "I guess it's time for us to leave, huh?"

  "There is a big, comfy bed we could use." She scratched the skin at the back of his neck in a light caress. "If you want."

  He had a beautiful, naked woman in his arms, who was talking about getting into bed, and… And nothing. He just didn't have it in him right now.

  "You mind if we just go to sleep?" he asked, turning the water off and using that to avoid seeing the look in Naomi's eyes. He didn't want to see anything that he imagined must be there.

  "Don't mind at all," she told him, sounding like she meant it.

  The last thing he wanted was to further question it, so he dropped a soft kiss on her lips and ran both his hands through her wet hair, tugging lightly at the ends of it.

  "How about… Whoever wakes up first, gets to wake the other one," he suggested. "Whatever way they want."

  Naomi leaned in and brushed her lips over the center of his chest, right above his tattoo. "Perfect."

  By the time they got back to bed, Elliot's whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, and he let out a relieved sigh, lying down under the covers. He kept his eyes open only until Naomi was in his arms, pressed with her back to his chest, then he let himself close them.

  He was asleep a second later.

  ***

  Elliot smiled, still half-asleep, when he registered that neither of them had moved during the night. He rubbed the bridge of his nose over the back of Naomi's head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and letting himself enjoy the moment. There was no alarm, no hurry. Naomi wasn't pulling away and leaving the bed seemingly the moment he would wake up. Everything was slow and warm in their little cocoon, and he didn't feel like moving.

  Then he remembered his idea from last night and his body reacted right away.

  Still, he planned to go slow. And thorough.

  He started with brushing his mouth over her neck, then lower, kissing his way along her spine. He slid down until his head was under the covers and he paused at the small of her back, closing his eyes. Everything was warmth and smooth skin, the scent of his soap and of them, separate and together. He pushed his tongue against the dip at the bottom of her back, caressing her ass with the back of his hand but not moving his mouth lower.

  Instead, he brushed his lips along her waist line until he got to the valley of her hip and bit her there, gently but enough to get a stir in response. He smiled and nudged Naomi to roll onto her back without saying a word or getting out from under the covers. He just kept exploring, leaving kisses all over her stomach and licking her bellybutton as he let his hands play with her breasts. Her hands covered his, fingers pushing his harder over her nipples, and he got the hint, pinching them as he sucked at the skin below her stomach.

  When he moved to situate himself between her legs, she opened them wider—an invitation he was more than happy to accept. Going down on her was one of his favorite things to do. He couldn't get enough of the noises she made—every catch of breath and every moan amped up his own desire. And the way her thighs tensed and relaxed in answer to what he was doing seemed like their own secret code.

  He went slowly this time, leaving teasing licks all around where she wanted him the most and pulling away when she pushed back to try and chase his touch. He sucked on her clit, then licked lower only to come back to play with it more, always backing off when she seemed to be close to coming.

  "Please," Elliot heard, the word muffled by the covers but still loud enough for him to catch.

  And that was the magic word he'd been waiting for. Once she said it, he licked around her clit one more time and then sucked on it hard, just like she liked it.

  She came with a shout and trembled through the aftershocks as he continued to give her short little licks to prolong her pleasure. Sometimes, when he kept going, she would come the second time.

  And she did today, too, with a soft gasp and thighs clenching around his head.

  Elliot wanted to make his way up her body slowly, but she pulled at his head to bring him up and, really, who was he to refuse such a direction?

  Even the gray light of the winter morning was too bright once he emerged from under the covers, but he barely blinked before her lips were on his. She kissed him hard right away and he let her charge in and claim his mouth. But after a minute of that, he tried slowing things down again.

  Naomi wasn't having it, though. She was apparently done with slow. She rolled them over and pushed her body right against his, dragging her stomach against his straining erection before pulling back to grab a condom from the nightstand. He clamped his hands hard on the sheets as she put it on him, then buckled his hips up when she took him inside.

  Fuck. There were no words in his head to express how good it felt to have her like this, above him, around him, all over him. She looked gorgeous like this, too—her body pink-red and sated after two orgasms, her mischievous smile telling him he was in for a good time.

  I always have that with you, he wanted to tell her, but the building pleasure, the rhythm they fell into, took away anything else. He let himself get lost in the feeling and when the orgasm hit, it punched his breath out of his chest.

  There was no place for words now. No need.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  She needed to tell him.

  Somewhere along the way they'd stopped being casual, she'd been just too stubborn to admit it. Now, she had no excuse. With her future up in the air, so was theirs, and Elliot deserved to know that.

  But she couldn't tell him on Sunday, when she first realized she'd waited too long already. He was still…tender after the previous night and Naomi would be the world greatest asshole if she'd followed his confession about a dead brother with "Hey, you know what, I'm probably skipping town soon".

  She couldn't tell him, but she also couldn't make herself get up and go home. She wanted to stay. She wanted to never leave, and to never let him leave, either. And in the past, the mere inkling of a thought like that would make her run for the hills, but this time, she just rolled onto him on the couch and let him distract her by fucking her hard and fast—completely different to what they'd done in the morning.

  So she didn't tell him on Sunday, then they didn't see each other for a few days and there was no way she would tell him over the phone. It wasn't just because it would be a coward move—she had called herself that in the past—but there was something deep inside her that stopped her. A quiet, terrifying certainty that she'd never see him again if she did that.

  And she wasn't ready for that. At all.

  "Don't tell me you're sitting here moping and waiting for the Doctor to call?" Fiona fell onto the couch next to her with a flourish, tossing her legs up before putting them onto the coffee table. It was Friday evening and Naomi's last client left half an hour ago. Fiona had to have
just finished with hers.

  "Quite the opposite, actually," Naomi said. She hadn't talked with anyone about the whole thing, but maybe it was time to get some outside perspective. She was obviously doing a shit job of handling it by herself. "I'm the one with something to say, after all."

  Fiona moved to face her on the couch. "And what's that?"

  "All this." Naomi gestured towards the main room, hoping her friend would get it, but Fiona just raised her eyebrows. "About me possibly losing my job and having to leave New York to find another."

  "You haven't told him?" Fiona's disbelieving tone made the guilt surge inside Naomi again. "What the hell do you talk about, then?"

  "About our daily life, mostly. His work, my work—my clients," Naomi corrected. "About what we've been up to in all the years we didn't see each other."

  He also told me about his family and I barely mentioned mine. And when he asks about my day, I always have to edit my answer.

  "You talk about your daily life while you don't mention you're searching for a job, you know, daily?" Fiona said, as if she was reading her mind.

  Naomi nodded, not able to lift her gaze to where she knew Fiona's was waiting for her.

  "Wow, okay," Fiona said after a long moment, but her voice was gentler now. "That's a mess."

  "Yeah," Naomi croaked. "I just… I was waiting for the best time to have that conversation, and, well, hoping I wouldn't have to have it, you know?"

 

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