Whatever the reason, the veil is gone—the one I used to analyze Eli’s beauty in a detached way that helped me get through each day—and there’s no way I can ever be normal about him again.
Throughout dinner, then playing board games in the family room, I couldn’t take my eyes off him for more than a few seconds at a time. It’s no wonder I lost every single game, or that I can’t muster up any feelings for those losses—good or bad.
After my own round of hugs, I follow Eli to the stairs and see everyone else walk back to the elevator, so it’s just the two of us after a night surrounded by family.
Even with that first kiss behind us, it’s the moment Eli opens his bedroom door and looks back at me, as if waiting for me to protest, that I make my choice, and I know there’s no going back. It’s stupid to think I ever wanted to avoid this.
Wordlessly, I follow him to the bathroom, gently spin him by the counter, then grab the back of his thighs to lift him onto it.
“Oh,” he says softly, gripping my shoulders hard in surprise.
I look around and find the little stack of reusable cloth wipes next to the gentle scrub from Mom’s brand.
I use it too, because hockey player or not, you can’t grow up with a supermodel as a mom without learning how to take care of your skin.
I stay silent as I reach for everything and then take the now-damp cloth to gently clean Eli’s face. He closes his eyes without me having to ask, and it takes some time to get all the makeup off, but he lets me fumble a bit with this new step.
After having to use another wipe, I reach for the moisturizer.
Eli’s bright blue eyes pin me in place when I look back at him, and there’s so much love, so much hope in them, it flattens me.
“Let me,” he whispers.
A moment later he’s repeating all the steps on my face, and though it goes faster, it feels incredible, just having him touch my face, care for me.
Then I set up his toothbrush for him, and when we’re done, I have to swallow hard to keep the excitement out of my voice.
I never want him to feel pressured to do anything.
“Do you want to shower?”
“In the morning,” he says, his smile absent of nerves even when he reaches for his shirt and pulls it off effortlessly.
I use the fraction of a second where his face is hidden to suck in a fortifying breath, then reach for my shirt too.
He’s standing there in very short, black briefs before I can unbutton my jeans, and I freeze.
His shoulders and arms have always been visibly strong, but his legs, god those thick thighs make me think of only bad things.
“Okay then,” he says, a laugh stuck in his voice.
I jump a little in place, coming out of my trance suddenly when he reaches for the button of my jeans himself and then drops to his knees when he pulls them down.
His skirt is pooled on the floor behind him, I realize. I guess he took that off.Yeah, no duh, Alexei.I have to swallow hard again, because the picture he makes is probably the sexiest thing in existence, and I lift one foot, then the other.
He takes off my socks, which I find strangely very endearing, and then he’s pulling me out of the bathroom to the bed, pushing me gently to sit on the edge.
I have to speak up when he reaches for the elastic band of his briefs.
“Eli, we don’t?—”
“I want to see you, Lex,” he interrupts, his eyes earnest and needy.
That’s it for me, folks.
“I want to touch you,” he continues. “Do you want to see me? Touch me?”
“Yes,” I answer, fast and without hesitation.
