Chapter 48
He checked the time.
Elijah might still be there.
He shoved himself to his feet. “This is a terrible idea.”
Still, he pulled on his jacket and left the office.
—
The bar was crowded, the music loud and the air thick with smoke. Nate pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the annoyed looks he received as he passed by. The entire place smelled like booze and sweat, completely out of his element. He scanned the room for Elijah, frowning when he came up empty-handed.
He was about to turn and leave when a hand clamped onto his shoulder. A smirk followed, appearing over his shoulder.
“You changed your mind?” Elijah asked.
Nate narrowed his eyes. “Why did I even think you would be here?”
Elijah laughed. “I’m just glad you came.”
The hand on his shoulder slipped, but instead of releasing him, it drifted down his back. The contact sent a shock through him, a flutter in his chest he refused to acknowledge.
“You have a lot of nerve,” Nate said, stepping away from him. “Did you expect me to come?”
“Honestly?” Elijah shrugged. “I had no idea. But I hoped so.”
Nate narrowed his eyes, but before he could respond, Elijah took off into the crowd. He followed him, weaving between tables of drunken laughter and raised voices, until they reached the bar.
Elijah slapped a hand on the counter, signaling the bartender for drinks.
“Two,” he called over the music.
Nate’s frown deepened as Elijah turned back around, pressing against the bar so his hip brushed Nate’s.
“We need to talk,” Nate told him, low and harsh. “You can’t keep contacting me like this. It’s unprofessional.”
Elijah smirked. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to take my number off your phone?”
Nate opened his mouth. Shut it.
“I didn’t think so.”
The bartender returned with two shots. Elijah grabbed one, pressing it into Nate’s hand before lifting his own to his lips.
“Cheers,” he said.
Nate held his breath, watching as Elijah tilted his head back and swallowed the entire shot in one go.
He set the glass on the counter and leaned in close, breath hot on Nate’s ear.
“To breaking rules.”
The flutter in Nate’s chest turned to a spark.
Before he could think better of it, he tossed the shot back, wincing at the burn that followed.
“Another?” Elijah asked, raising an eyebrow.
Nate shook his head.
“More for me, then.”
Elijah laughed, ordering two more. They came in quick succession, each one disappearing just as quickly as the first. Nate watched, frowning, as Elijah threw his head back, eyes closed, and drank.
He had never seen anyone make drinking look so damn good.
“So,” Elijah said, once the glass was on the counter again. “What do you want to talk about?”
Nate blinked, suddenly remembering his purpose here.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
Elijah cocked his head to the side, looking him over. “Do you mean with my art?”
Nate scowled. “No, with me.”
“Oh.” The smirk returned. “Just having a drink.”
“No, with all of this,” Nate bit out. “Following me out of the courthouse. Texting me. And now this.”
Elijah leaned in close.
“I told you,” he murmured. “I want to break some rules. And you seem like someone who could use a little breaking.”
The words sent a shock up his spine. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nate muttered, shaking his head.
“I think I do,” Elijah disagreed. “And I think you might be scared to admit it.”
“I’m not scared of anything.” Nate narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, really?” Elijah murmured, leaning in closer.
His mouth brushed the shell of Nate’s ear.
“And I think you’re lying.”
He pulled away with a smirk, turning his back on him to order more drinks.
Nate’s pulse was pounding now, the room spinning slightly from the shot he’d tossed back.
He needed to get out of here before he did anything stupid. He turned to leave just as Elijah glanced back over his shoulder, catching his eye with a grin.
“I thought we weren’t done talking,” he teased.
Nate clenched his fist, exhaling sharply through his nose.
Elijah was impossible.
And yet-
He didn’t walk away.
—
A few more shots and a couple hours later, Nate finally stumbled out of the bar.
The night air was cool on his face, a relief from the hot press of bodies and the pounding of music. He fished his phone out of his pocket and swiped it open, squinting at the bright screen until he managed to pull up a ride.
As he waited, the cool air and quiet of the street suddenly hit him all at once. His head spun, stomach churning as the entire evening replayed in his head.
Fuck. He’d had too much to drink.
The car pulled up and Nate stumbled over to it, pulling on the door handle. He half-collapsed into the seat, giving the driver his address.
He fell asleep before they even left the curb.
—
Nate woke up with a pounding headache and a groan on his lips.
He’d never drank this much. Not since college, at least, and never this late in the night.
He pushed himself upright in the seat, blinking through the dark to see if they were almost home.
But instead of a familiar street, he found himself staring at Elijah’s front door.
“What-” he began, but stopped short.
The driver’s seat was empty.
And as he turned to look out the back window, he caught sight of Elijah disappearing into the shadows of his own front yard.
It took him a minute to piece together what had happened. To realize that Elijah had somehow-probably after Nate had passed out-snuck him into a car and sent him here, to his own damn house.
The fury that rose up in him was immediate.
He threw himself out of the car, ignoring the driver’s protests, and marched up to Elijah’s door. He slammed his fist against it, hard enough to rattle it in the frame.
The door swung open almost instantly, revealing Elijah’s disheveled form in sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“Hey,” Elijah mumbled, squinting through sleepy eyes.
Nate glared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Elijah yawned. “What time is it?”
“It’s 4:00 in the damn morning,” Nate snapped. “And you brought me here.”
“Yeah,” Elijah said, scratching his head. “I figured it would be better than leaving you in an alley somewhere.”
“It’s none of your business where I end up,” Nate snarled.
“Maybe not,” Elijah agreed. “But I didn’t want to leave you there. It looked bad for business.”
Nate blinked. “Business?”
“Well,” Elijah shrugged. “I have a reputation. And it would have been bad for it if I’d left you alone in the middle of an alley.”
Nate stared at him, half-convinced that he was dreaming. That somehow, he’d drunk himself into a nightmare, and this was the result.
“You are the worst client I’ve ever had,” Nate said finally.
“Aw,” Elijah murmured, pouting. “That’s not very nice.”
“It’s true,” Nate retorted.
Elijah hummed. “I think you mean it in a good way.”
Nate had no response to that.
“I need to go,” he muttered instead. “Where’s the car?”
Elijah gestured vaguely over his shoulder. “It’s still out there. Just wait here for a minute and I’ll take you.”
Nate froze. “Take me where?”
“Home.” Elijah shrugged.
Nate gaped at him. “You want to drive me home?”
“Well, yeah.” Elijah tilted his head to the side. “You’re too wasted to do it yourself.”
Nate’s cheeks flushed hot. “I’m not wasted. I’m just tired. And hungover. And pissed off.”
Elijah nodded. “Okay.”
“I don’t want you to drive me,” Nate said firmly.
“Why not?”
Because you’re my client. And this is completely unprofessional.
But that was a lie.
Because I don’t want to be alone with you again. I don’t want to feel the way I felt in the bar, like everything was falling apart and it was exhilarating.
Nate cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide his shaking fingers.
“I can just walk,” he said. “I don’t live far.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Elijah retorted. “Come on. I’m driving.”