Page 66 of Bent, Not Broken

My throat tightened and hurt for a second. “If you say, ‘maybe this was a good thing,’ I’ll know you’re a space alien in an Evan suit.”

He laughed and dragged me into a one-armed hug. My chest squeezed when I realized I’d never feel the full strength of him holding me again, but this was still amazing and good. I burrowed closer. “I got a kick to the balls—”

“Shoulder,” I corrected.

“Shoulder,” he said and chuckled. “I was stuck in a rut, and now, strangely, I feel like I’ve been rocked out of it.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of my ear, and I shivered with his warm breath. He nipped the same spot hard and tingles raced over my skin.

“Let’s go home. I’ll skip the rest of the day.”

“Kiss me better when we get there?” he asked, straightening up to slay me with a small, wicked grin.

“Hmm….” I rocked onto the tips of my toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I’d love to.”

The next few weeks passed in a haze of me trying desperately to play catch up at work, going to more meetings with the zoning committee, realizing we’d have to go to court and nothing I could do would stop the wheels of pissed-off-neighbor-wrath from turning, and sweating it all for once in my life. River found my panic endearing and enraging by turns. Together we managed to jam the zoning request for King through, though there was still a chance we’d end up in court again later.

Meanwhile, Evan signed up to take the exam to become a licensed private investigator. I bought fedoras and hid them all around the apartment. He was pissed off at first, but by the time he found the fifth one, hiding under the blankets on his side of the bed one night, he started laughing about it.

“Don’t you think you should study?” I asked him late on the night before his licensing test. We lay cuddled under the blankets, me snug in his arms, my back pressed against his warm, naked chest. He couldn’t put his bad arm under me, so we were facing the windows, and moonlight painted rectangular silver swatches on the floor.

“Nah,” he mumbled. “No time now anyway.” I could hear the sleep in his voice, and he ran a hand down my stomach. With his injury, we’d settled into a more comfortable routine. Not that the heat didn’t explode between us regularly, but we’d learned to be near each other without fucking each other’s brains out before we could even function to have a conversation… and it was better than I’d have ever thought something like this could be. I snuggled closer to him. Much as I never went looking for it, this type of relationship had me feeling settled in a way nothing else had.

“You’re bold,” I whispered, and he laughed.

“It’s not difficult. They want to make sure you know what laws not to break and that you’re bonded. That’s about it. Any idiot can take this test.” His voice was warm honey in the dark.

I harrumphed. “Still should have studied.”

He kissed my shoulder, his lips a warm beacon that lit up my body. His hand on my stomach slid lower and—maybe we weren’t any good at not fucking. He palmed my dick, and I moaned and rocked my ass against his groin. We kept each other up far too late, and he had to rush to his test before I left the apartment in the morning. He ruffled my hair on his way out the door while I stood bleary-eyed in the kitchen over my first cup of coffee.

The weeks of waiting for the results to come in the mail saw us doing things like pack up my apartment over the pool house. He didn’t want to give up his place, and it’s not like I needed to do anything to let go of mine. Mom threw me a going-away party—only an excuse to invite people over —and Evan and I ate cheese and canapes and tapas around the pool. Evan choked down dry wine he hated with one hundred and fifty people we didn’t even know. I was asked by several women in long silk dresses that only varied in color and cut, where in Europe I was moving, Spain or Italy? I felt like Mom might have been a little vague on the invites.

But once full dark settled on the party, there were fireworks shot up from somewhere on the house grounds, and Evan and I fucked in the empty apartment with the hubbub of the party as background noise, our last hurrah during the main event. Everyone outside clapped and laughed for the fireworks as rumbles blasted nearby, and red, blue, and purple lights painted our naked bodies through the windows while we came together.

About a week after the party, I had my last box unpacked in Evan’s house. My suits didn’t fit in his closet, so I had to buy an oak armoire and put it in the corner of his room, but that was fine. I didn’t care. He seemed happier in his own space again. The little house was too hot with the late summer heat, and I’d found that the bathroom sink dripped, and the kitchen stove sometimes shorted out when I was using it. But Evan loved the house, so I simply snuck in a handyman when I knew he had PT and replaced everything that irritated me. He was still going to his exercise sessions to keep what range of motion he could.

“What are you doing?” I asked one Saturday morning, nearly a month after he’d taken the PI test. He sat at the kitchen table munching Pop-Tarts in his boxers, a huge smile on his rugged face. “Hello, handsome,” I whispered, and came over to drop a kiss on his lips. Something flashed across his face, surprise maybe, and he attacked my lips eagerly. He took the time to slip his hand down the back of my pajama pants and pinch my ass before sitting back and laughing. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him this happy about anything.

“You got your results?”

“Yes.” His smile grew wider until it seemed like I could count every tooth he had.

“So you failed?”

He gave me a play shove, and I laughed, hitting him back lightly on the arm. “Ouch!” he bellowed and grabbed his shoulder. My stomach sank like a lead-lined rock.

“Oh my God, oh my God, are you—”

He grabbed my hand and jerked me onto his lap, smirking. He wrapped me up in both arms, and I struggled there, but he had me in his grip.

“You prick. I thought I hurt you.”

He leaned forward and nipped the tip of my nose hard enough that it stung. I growled at him, and he laughed harder. “I know. Your face was priceless. I almost believe you care about me.”

“Damn it, Evan, that wasn’t funny.”

“Was for me.”

“I—” He pressed his warm lips to mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth with enough force to make me weak in the knees—good thing he’d already swept me off my feet—and I melted against him, solidly defeated. He tasted like strawberries and victory.