Chapter 6: Not Here

Gabe's brownstone in Squirrel Hill had a green door and a brass knocker shaped like a pear.

Eli stood in front of it at seven exactly with nothing in his hands, as ordered.

The door opened before he could knock.

Gabe had changed out of the coat and sweater into a gray shirt with the sleeves pushed up, and his feet were bare.

Eli had never seen his bare feet before.

It undid him more than the closet had.

"Come in," Gabe said.

Eli went in, and Gabe shut the door and put his back against it and looked at him.

"I made dinner," Gabe said. "It's on the stove. I'm not going to feed you."

"Okay."

"I've been telling myself for two days that I'd talk to you first. Sit down, set terms, be reasonable."

"And?"

"I'm not feeling reasonable."

He crossed the hall in two steps and had Eli's face in both hands.

The kiss was slower this time and much worse for it.

Gabe kissed him with tongue and teeth and a low sound in his throat.

Eli's back met the stair rail.

His hands wrenched at the gray shirt.

"Upstairs," Gabe said against his mouth.

"I can't walk."

"Then I'll carry you."

"You will not."

He did not carry him, but he held Eli by the hip the whole way up.

The bedroom door was already open.

It was a plain room with a big bed, a lamp, and a shelf of medical journals, and Eli saw none of it.

Gabe stripped his sweater off over his head and then his shirt, and Eli went still.

He had seen that chest once at a lake when he was twelve and had not understood what he was looking at.

Broad, dark-haired, going silver low on the stomach.

"Stop staring and take your clothes off," Gabe said.

"You're staring too."

"I'm allowed. I'm the adult."

"I'm twenty-four."

"I know exactly how old you are."

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