I pin the phone between my cheek and my shoulder, yanking on my coat. “That’s the best reason. How did talking to them go?”
“At first, just like I expected. Then . . . not.”
We stay on the phone as I jog to meet him, Eli asking what we’ve been up to since he left. I hang up once I see him and continue where I left off with barely a pause, earning a half-hearted chuckle from him.
“Feels like it’s been longer than two hours,” he admits.
I fold my fingers over his and pull him toward my house. “Whatever you want to tell me, I’m all ears. If you don’t wantto tell me anything—well, once we get in the house I can be all arms, and cuddle with you.”
He pulls back on my arm, drawing me close and pressing his lips to mine. One hand frames the back of my head. The other holds me at the small of my back. The cold disappears for a moment, secure as I am in Eli’s embrace. It presses on me again the instant he pulls back, but wars with a renewed warmth surging inside.
“I know you’re cold, but I couldn’t wait to do that,” he says in a desire-roughened voice.
“No complaints here.”
He takes my hand again and we reach the house in silence. I sigh once we’ve shut the door behind us. So much better, being warm. And climbing onto the couch with Eli, pulling a blanket over both of us? Cozy doesn’t begin to describe it.
He laces his fingers with mine under the blanket. “They said they love me,” he says in a whisper. “They said they’ll try to visit more, and at least they’ll call more.”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I lit one of the lamps before we sat down, casting a gentle glow over the room. It reflects in Eli’s dark eyes as he stares at the blanket. “I don’t think I should, but yes. My main issue is . . . I don’t know if I can trust it.”
I take a minute framing my response. “Can you stop yourself from hoping they do?”
He breathes in sharply. “No.”
I look at him until he meets my eyes. “Then there’s not much you can do about it. The ball is on their side of the field. Play defense like you always have, ready for it to come back . . . but prepared for it to stay away for a while. I know that’s a crappy analogy and easier said than done, but—”
“It helps,” he interrupts.
I search his face. “Really?”
His mouth curves up, slightly. “Okay, maybe not the analogy part. But this,you, knowing you understand—that you’re here—that helps.”
I trace my thumb over his palm. “Where else would I be?”
I see it in his eyes—the flicker of familiarity. Does he remember saying those words to me, the day Widget had his surgery at the vet? I don’t think I’ve told him how those words nested inside me. How they repeated in my mind as I tried to go to sleep that night, echoed in his vinyl voice until they rooted in my soul.
The way his throat tenses after a second, he remembers, and the way his lips part by a breath . . . he knows. At least, he knows now.
“I don’t know if that was my moment, when I fell in love with you,” I continue, voice lowering, “but it was the moment that told me you’re everything to me.”
His nose brushes mine, dark eyelashes lowering halfway. “Even though I’m broken?”
“We’re both a little broken, Eli.”
There’s barely any space between us. Energy leaps between our lips, hovering so close together. “But it’s the kind of broken that fits together,” he says in a husky whisper that sends tingles through me.
“The kind that fits together exactly,” I say, and press forward, unable to stand not kissing him any longer.
SEVEN
ELI
Time melts away as completely as the stress inside me, kissing Jack. Our mouths slide over each other slowly, languorously—each moment wordlessly conveying how much he loves me. It’s a physical lullaby. Kisses deepen and slow, lips stilling, breaths deepening. My eyes, already closed, can’t seem to open, and I fall asleep tangled in Jack’s sleepy embrace.
I haven’t fallen asleep beside him since that night we looked at the stars. Waking up with him slotted beside me, head leaning on my shoulder, soft hair against my cheek, I wish we could do this more. But I hadn’t meant to stay the night.
