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“That’s what girls are looking at?!” he asks, sounding outraged.
“I mean, some girls, maybe.”
Eli glares at me, tugging his shirt lower as I laugh.
“I won’t look. Promise,” I say, holding my pinky out to him.
He grumbles but takes it and we both lean in, kissing our hands and sealing the pinky promise.
There’s a moment of awareness that passes between us as we stare into each other’s eyes. We both jerk apart and get busy cleaning up our painting equipment.
“Why are you so against dating and boyfriends and all of that?” Eli asks me as we clean up.
“I just never had the time. Culinary school was so competitive that I never found anyone that I trusted enough to go out with. Not that anyone was asking anyway. After that, I was busy taking care of my grams and trying to save up to start our bakery.”
“I’m sure you weren’t missing out on much,” Eli says, trying to make me feel better.
“Yeah, who needs all that. Romance and dates and all that.”
“Gross,” Eli deadpans and I giggle.
We clean up in silence and Eli waits as I turn off the lights and lock up. When we’re standing on the sidewalk, we both pause and glance at each other.
I don’t know what to say, but it feels weird to leave things like this.
“So, the chairs and tables tomorrow then?” Eli asks, breaking the silence and I nod, grateful that he broke the weird energy between us.
“Yeah and maybe the lights. I’m not sure when they’ll be delivered though. I’ll have to check the status and let you know.”
“Let me give you my phone number then. You can just text me and let me know,” Eli says as he digs his cell phone out of his sweatpants and unlocks it.
He passes it to me and I enter my contact information, sending a quick text to myself so that I have his phone number too before I pass it back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says quietly and I nod awkwardly at him.
He raises a hand and waves, which seems just as awkward as my nod, before he turns and heads to his truck. I hurry up my apartment stairs and let myself in.
As I listen to Eli’s truck start up and pull away from the curb, I can’t help but wonder what is happening between us. I just need to remember that we agreed to no relationships. I need to keep my eye on the prize, and that’s not Eli. It’s opening my bakery and making my grams proud.
TEN
Elijah
I’m grabbing some burgers at Wayside Diner the next night before I head over to the bakery to help Hartley with the tables and chairs when my phone rings. For one brief moment, I hope that it’s Hartley. I’ve been checking my phone more than usual today, and if I’m being honest with myself, I know that it’s because I’ve been hoping that Hartley would reach out to me.
It’s not Hartley though. It’s Patrick.
I answer right away, hoping that nothing is wrong with Brennan.
“Hello?” I answer, passing some cash across the counter and nodding as I grab the bags of food and push out the diner door.
“Hey, man,” Patrick says, and he sounds like shit.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, hurrying over to my truck and hopping in.
It’s freezing outside and I crank the heat up as I wait to find out if I’m going to be headed toward the bakery or to Patrick’s place.
“So Brennan is better, but now I have it,” he rasps out.
