Page 81 of Yours to Keep
“I love you, CJ.” The words feel like stepping off a cliff and trusting he’ll catch me.
He kisses me again, slower this time. When he pulls me in, he doesn’t let go, holding me like it’s already been decided, like neither of us needs to say anything else because we’ve said everything that matters. His tongue slides into my mouth, his hands framing my face as if I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. For a moment, there is no space left between us at all.
The kiss softens, slowing into gentler, lingering presses of his lips against mine before he shifts, brushing them along my jaw: unhurried and reverent, like he’s memorizing me.
Then he leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “I love you, Baby Boy.”
I smile into his shoulder, and then I hear the promise.
“If Adrian is behind this,” CJ says quietly, “he doesn’t get to touch you again. Ever.”
Tears slip down my face.
“Do you know why he can’t reach you anymore?” CJ murmurs, leaning back to look me in the eye.
I shake my head.
He lifts my chin. “Because, Eli…” His voice is steady and certain. “You are mine.”
The words spread through me like heat, settling deep in my chest: fierce and unshakable. There is no hesitation or doubt as he kisses me again, and I let myself believe it. I want to be his, and somewhere deep inside me, I know I already am.
20
Eli
I hadn’t realized how much of my life had started to revolve around CJ.
Morning coffee. Walking to work together. Lunch breaks shared without thinking. The sound of his footsteps crossing the office toward me, like they always knew where I was. The way he always looked up when I walked into a room, that small smile arriving before anything else, his dimple cutting in like it belonged there.
It was always the small things that stayed.
The things that made it too easy to forget this might only be temporary. Because if the text, the man across the street, my staff card, and the photos meant anything, Adrian had found me.
And if he’d found me, I knew I had to run. Soon.
So I let myself enjoy this while I can.
The waterfront stretched out ahead of us. Campbell River lay calm tonight, ferries sliding slowly across the water. Rain hadthreatened all morning, but it never came. The Saturday evening air felt warmer than usual, and the stars were finally visible.
People walked along the shoreline, just living: couples holding hands, families laughing at kids running ahead. Just people living without thinking about it.
And here I stood on a balcony, fully aware someone was watching me.
Knowing I had been found.
Knowing there was nothing I could do.
I breathed in the salt air and looked at the man beside me. I wanted to hold onto this, the time I had with him.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I said.
CJ looked at me, then nodded once.
Minutes later, we were walking along the waterfront shoulder to shoulder, close enough that our hands kept brushing now and then. I looked down at them. I wanted to hold his hand, feel his warmth and the strength of him, so I took the plunge and reached for it.
CJ turned his head immediately.
“Is this okay?” I asked quietly.
