Elliot is not my ex. Either of them. He isn’t sure what’s coming, but he’s not running away from it. It’s not in him to take the easy way out. He sees me. Knows me.
A slide show of images suddenly accosts me. When he carried me to the bathroom for Hurlapalooza and came back again the next day. Voluntarily. When he made me a plate of pancakes. When he rubbed my back and carried my boxes. When he kissed me.
It won’t last, but God, I still want it anyway. I can’t let myself pretend it’s something more for him. That we have a future. But I don’t think I’m willing to give up the chance to experience what’s between us just because I know I’ll get hurt. My eyes are open. I’ve been hurt before, but at least this time I’d know what it’s like to be cared for. Wanted.
I’ve never been wanted like this.
The wall I’ve been trying to build around myself with bricks made of bad memories and personal reprimands crumbles into dust in my mind.
I’m done fighting this.
I burrow closer, wrapping my arms around him and sliding my hands under his jacket. “Elliot, we need to find a hotel. A close one. As soon as possible.”
His muscles tense at the unexpected reciprocation, and he lifts his head slowly, staring down at me in momentary confusion. “A hotel?”
I press my thumb against the dimple in his chin and his lashes flutter. “That’s right. I’m not walking by Mr. Gordon like this. He’s a wizard and he’ll know. Not to mention my roommate and yours. We don’t want to take the chance we’ll be interrupted.”
“But you said this couldn’t happen. That you didn’t want to make a mistake.”
“I don’t. But I know what I’m getting myself into this time.” My thumb glides over his lips, keeping them closed. “No promises. No dates. We’ll be careful in public and honest with each other. But I want you, you seem to want me, and technically we’re adults who can do whatever we want, so—”
His kiss is full of relief and lust, and my smile is swollen and goofy when he finally pulls away to fumble for his phone and map out the nearest hotel.
Maybe this is a bad idea, but right now it doesn’t feel like it.
To quote a certain singer I’m into at the moment, it feels good as hell.
Chapter Thirteen
Joey
Steam is still drifting from the open bathroom door as I study the hotel room decorated for seduction. Mine in particular. For the most part, it looks like any other luxury suite. King-sized bed, a desk and a sitting area with a large flat screen and generic art on the wall.
It also has a silver bucket filled with ice for the few cans of orange soda we got from the vending machine before I showered. The bowl of tangerines and strawberries dipped in chocolate are new. But the bottle of lube and a box of condoms we stopped to purchase have been left on the bed, in case there was any doubt about what’s about to happen here.
This is thoughtful. And cute. Baby goat videos and singing to your daughter on the phone cute. Hookups don’t usually go to this much trouble.
You know this is more than that.
That’s why I’m doing this. I want to experience it. I think Elliot is the only man I have a chance to feel that kind of “more” with.
I took a detour for a shower as soon as we got here, needing a few minutes alone to get my mind as right as my body was ready. And to deal with my hair situation.
No lying on the honesty train.
But not even soaking my head and listing all the ways this could go wrong has made a difference. This is happening. I need this to happen.
His attempt at romance is doing things to my insides. I swear I would give swooning a shot if it weren’t for the erection tenting my towel. Wouldn’t want to break anything.
“You’ve been busy.” There’s a tickle in my throat. That’s why I sound like this. That’s all.
Elliot looks up from the strawberries, his ears red again. I want to lick him. “This was the smallest fruit they had on hand.”
He remembered the basket, the kumquats, and tried to replicate it.
Be chill, my heart. “You didn’t have to order anything. You could have gotten a pizza, but you did this instead. It’s nice.”
“Pizza isn’t on the menu until noon.” He crosses his arms, openly staring at my chest. I don’t think he’s ever seen me without a shirt before. “I wanted to get something. It’s a hotel room. When you’ve seen a hundred, you’ve seen them all. I thought if I ordered a few things you liked… I didn’t want you to feel like this doesn’t matter.”