AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We went past an Italian place on the way here,” he says. And was that the sound of a zipper? “It looked okay.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and bounce. “You mean the paint wasn’t peeling and none of the windows had been replaced with plywood?”
The swirly purple comforter might not be the most designer bedding I’ve ever seen but the mattress feels good.
“I’m starving,” he says. “Was so nervous earlier I haven’t been able to eat anything all day.”
I toe off my sneakers without undoing the laces and lie back on the bed. Hmm. Not bad at all. Even the pillows are thick and supportive.
The bathroom door swings open, and Elliot emerges like Superman from a phone booth, transformed into Off-Duty Elliot.
And it’s a good look. The dark blue jeans are exactly what I would have expected him to go for—casual but tidy. And the denim shows off his thigh muscles, the ones I had an unclothed view of the last time we were in a hotel room.
They also cradle the business between the thighs into a nice-looking package too. Something else I got an even better sighting of last time.
“Forget it,” he says, resting his hand high on the doorframe.
I bolt upright. Could he hear my mind running through its database of snapshots of his thighs and boxer shorts contents? “Forget what?”
“Trying the bed out for size. I am not sleeping in a chair again. Get your own room. As far as I’m aware, all the a capella people have left town now.”
“Oh. Yeah. Yes. I already have. My room’s two floors down.”
He carries the suit and shirt draped over his arm to the closet. “I hope you haven’t paid for this trip yourself.” He hangs up the jacket and the pants. “I hope you billed it to Two Coast.” And tosses the shirt into his duffel bag.
“I actually billed it to Harvest. I’ll add it to Max’s spreadsheet as a charitable contribution to First Byte—if he’s donating me, he can donate my travel expenses too. And it’s time he gave to a good cause.”
I slide my legs off the bed and reach down for my shoes.
“Well, he already did make a pretty hefty contribution,” Elliot says, taking long, slow strides until he’s right next to me. “He gave me you.”
I lift my eyes from his blue-and-red-striped socks, up those sexy jeans, making an effort not to linger on the crotch area, and right up to his smiling, cushiony lips.
“Only because it suited him.” I tear my gaze from his face and reach down to grab a sneaker so I can undo the laces and put them back on.
“Well, today would never have gone so well without you,” he says.
“I’m not sure about that.”
He crouches down beside me, picks up my other shoe, and tugs at the double knot in the lace. “I am.”
Goddammit, why is the sneaker I’m holding so hard to untie? The more I try, the tighter it gets.
“And I don’t just mean because of how you pulled the repairs together.” His slender fingers are strong and confident as they work on the first knot. “I’m talking about how you pulled me together too. I could never have done that speech if your voice hadn’t been in my head the whole time.”
Suddenly, coming here feels like a bad idea. My body’s on fire, my heart like a tethered animal fighting to break free. This is terrible. The worst thing I could have done. My judgment was clouded by how awful it would be to not see Elliot again, to not be teased by him again. And I talked myself into believing we could be friends and it could be okay. But it won’t.
With him so close I could lean forward and sniff his hair—which I know would smell of mint and rosemary, it always does—I know I’ve done the wrong thing.
I know from the way he makes my chest ache, my pulse race, and my fingers lose the ability to perform a task I could do with greater efficiency when I was six, this is not okay.
A tsunami of panic crashes over me. My brain screams that I should get up and leave. But my body can’t move out of Elliot’s magnetic forcefield.
I have to make myself go. I have to be strong. I have to undo this fucking knot in my lace, put my shoes on, and get the holy hell out of here.
But my fumbling sweaty fingers are useless against my efficiently tight bow.
Screw it. I’ll walk to my room in sock-covered feet.
