Elliot, Song of the Soulmate (Love Austen 5)

“The most . . . No.”

“Yer are.”

Elliot couldn’t help it. “What makes you think so?”

Wentworth hummed softly. “Well. It’s no yer undecided blond-brown hair. It’s no yer height, or build. It’s no yer shrewd green eyes, or yer cute conceited-looking nose, or yer wide smile. It’s no the lines of intelligence in yer face or the patience in yer stance. It’s no yer slightly husky laughter. It’s no the curious way you look at me. It’s no the energy between us, pebbling my skin.” Wentworth traced a finger over the back of Elliot’s hand and Elliot shivered. “It’s no any one thing, it’s all those things.” He laughed softly, frowning. “You steal my breath. It wasn’t supposed to happen already, but . . .”

Wentworth curled a finger and Elliot bent toward him. “This is love at first sight.”

Elliot floated into his two-bedroom childhood home—one storey, settled low amongst a wild garden in a valley far from the shore—as opposite as one could get to living on a boat.

He helped his mum carry their weekly shopping into the kitchen and absently began unpacking. “He’s got a few screws loose, he does. Who believes in love at first sight?”

“You haven’t stopped smiling all afternoon.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

Elliot ripped open the apple net and piled apples into the fruit bowl. He hadn’t been able to get Wentworth out of his head. Not last night, not this morning, certainly not this afternoon. Love!

Elliot rubbed his lips, but it didn’t change facts. He was still smiling. He couldn’t believe that Wentworth had declared himself like that. He’d just moved here, for crying out loud. He hadn’t even met everyone at school yet. Guys didn’t decide who they’d spend the rest of their life with at the age of seventeen.

His mum cleared her throat. “I think you like him.”

Elliot scoffed, but wow. It was hot in here.

“He is a very energetic young man,” Mum continued, watching him as she put away the muesli. “Good looking, too. If not overly sensible.”

Yes, he was all those things. A sigh slipped out of Elliot.

He shook his head, chastising himself for it. He had always thought he’d be very rational when it came to . . . liking a guy, but here he was conjuring Wentworth’s grin in his mind. That wonderful red-squirrel-coloured hair, those dark blue eyes like the deepest part of the ocean. Like one could swim in them forever and continuously discover new things.

Not Elliot though, right? Not a guy who didn’t swim. Not someone who choked on water during school lessons.

“Elliot?”

“Yeah?”

“If you could stop stroking that banana, I’d be super grateful.”

Elliot let the fruit drop. He hadn’t realised he’d picked it up. He didn’t want to think about what his sub-conscious might be saying with that. “I should probably, ah, go drown myself in homework before he comes and picks me up.”

His mum laughed. “Where’s he taking you?”

“The pool.”

“Fun date.”

Elliot shook his head, adamant. “It’s not a date.” His mum didn’t look convinced. “It’s a lesson.”

Elliot was swimming. After three months of these . . . lessons, he was actually in the deep end of the local swimming pool, kicking his legs, and slicing his hands through the water. Breathing on every third stroke.

Halfway down the lane now. Wentworth was getting closer.

He pictured him, sitting next to the diving block, feet dipping into the water, hands palming the edge. His wet hair clinging to the sides of his face, dripping over those broad shoulders. He’d watch Elliot carefully, cataloguing any points to help him improve—

His hand thwacked against the end wall. Ouch. Elliot perched himself on the underwater ledge rimming the pool and pulled his goggles up his forehead. He was . . . between Wentworth’s thighs. This was . . .

The sting in his hand certainly dulled.

Focus on his face!

Wentworth’s blinding grin tickled Elliot into one of his own. “I did it.”

“You sure did.”

The desire to wrap his arms around Wentworth and push closer . . . He shifted down the ledge, a good foot from those thighs, and cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Thank yerself. You did the hard work.”

“Hard work I wouldn’t have dared do without you. But . . . go me.”

Wentworth slipped into the pool, joining him on the ledge with a devilish grin. “I mean, if you want to thank me . . .”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “You don’t give up do you?”

“What? It’s jus’ a date, a kiss, a blood oath you’ll marry me. I mean!”

Elliot laughed.

“It’s not like you don’t find me somewhat attractive,” Wentworth said with a brazen look down Elliot through the clear water. “I’ve seen you in those Speedos fifty times, at least. They dinnae leave much room for guesswork.”

“I find you more than ‘somewhat attractive’. But I don’t make dating decisions with my dick.”

“I wish you would.”

Laughing, Elliot splashed Wentworth’s eyebrow-waggling face. “I much prefer it like this. Enjoying your company, as friends.”