AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart breaks for the ambitious spirit that went to evening classes to get the only degree she could, that raised her brothers, and got one of them over a traumatic injury, all before being able to live her own life.
I could look at her all night.
And I just might.
15
CHARLOTTE
“O
w!”
I pause at the sound of Elliot’s gasped yelp, my hand on the squeaky bathroom door. “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.”
He shifts in his makeshift chair-bed and pulls his glasses off his forehead. He must have fallen asleep with them on.
I’d lain awake for a while, watching him sleep. His dark hair sticking up all over the place, his lips slightly parted as he breathed, his right bicep partially on display below the T-shirt sleeve as he held the blanket across his chest.
And it ran over and over in my mind how surprised he was that I would stay home to look after my brothers instead of going to college. I’ve never considered it to be that big of a deal. Always seen it as me just doing what needed to be done. But Elliot saw it as a big sacrifice. And, I wonder now, if maybe he has a point.
I could have watched him lying there for hours. If I didn’t need to pee so badly.
“It’s okay.” He reaches under the blanket and rubs his back. “What time is it?”
“Six forty. You can sleep some more if you like.”
I take another step inside the bathroom. This T-shirt comes only to my mid-thigh, and I’m eager to get my bare legs out of view.
“Nah,” he says through a yawn. “We should get something to eat, then go check on the damage.”
I nod and close the door behind me.
The atmosphere in the room is different this morning. Like the morning after you’ve kissed someone for the first time, when you feel sort of more relaxed with them, but also more nervous because now there’s more at stake.
Except I haven’t kissed Elliot. But I did tell him things I’ve told no one else at work other than Vivian. In that building, confessing to having only an associate’s degree from a local community college would be like telling someone at Paris Fashion Week that I was wearing Wal-Mart’s finest.
But Elliot appreciated I’d done it against the odds, and it seemed to make him hold me in higher esteem. He found it something to admire, not something to look down on.
And I felt safe telling him, because while those other people would have said I was crazy to stay home to be a surrogate mother to my little brothers and then to throw away my chance of a scholarship at a great school to help Brody recover from his injuries, I knew Elliot never would. If there’s one thing I know about the Dashwoods, it’s that they value family above anything else. So I was confident Elliot would understand that part.
And he confessed to me about his womanizing college days, which was something of a revelation. But it does explain why I’ve never heard of him playing around now, and he obviously focuses all his energy on the business.
A sharp cry of “Ah!” comes from the other side of the door, followed by a quiet mumble of “Shit.”
“Are you okay?” I call as I jump off the toilet and flush it. “What’s happened?”
I open the bathroom door to see him frozen partway through trying to get up. He’s halfway to standing and gripping the arm of the chair.
The blanket’s crumpled at his feet, revealing him in just boxer shorts and T-shirt.
Like his arms, his legs are long and lean but firm. And with them being bent, the shape of his thigh muscles is particularly clear.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, trying to focus on the problem rather than his thighs.
“Nothing.” His face is tense with pain. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” It’s hard not to laugh. “You’re in some weird not-quite-standing, not-quite-sitting position gripping the arm of the chair like it’s the last floating object in a shipwreck. You are clearly not fine.”
