The orgasm barrels through me like a freight train.
My back arches, and even as I forget to think about tightening my grip for Eli, I feel him thrust one, two, three times against me, and then he spills over me too.
12
Lex
December 26th
It’s painfully early when I park myself in the last seat of the jet. This way I know I’ll be facing forward, and my head won’t spin.
Ally, Corey, and Dad sit at the front, and Hawk takes a dive for the couch and makes Derek’s stony face crack even if only for a second. Vinny, Si, Uncle Paul, and Aunt Elle sit at the front, near and next to Dad, and Wolf and CJ sit right in front of me.
Even with everyone speaking in low tones, the plane’s too loud, too crowded.
After three full days where I could get away with Eli and let the silence act as a healing balm to my brain, it’s jarring, so I take a few deep breaths and try to get my head in the right headspace.
I didn’t get much time with Eli yesterday, or in the few hours that have passed from today. I don’t understand Eli’s work as well as I probably should, but he had to spend half a day athis office yesterday because he wanted all his employees to have Christmas Day free, and there has to be someone there at all times.
Hearing his earnest explanation while he chewed his bottom lip nervously only made me fall deeper in love with him, which I realize is an impossibility I’m going to have to get used to. He was nervous that I would get mad at him for having to leave, and to offset that, I just shut him up with my lips and loved watching a pretty blush spread over his cheeks.
There were more kisses, though neither of us had the courage to kiss in front of our family, and we did get one hour of opening presents with everyone decked out in the matching festive pajamas Mom got for everyone.
The memory does what it’s supposed to, and I can breathe easily when I hear the flight attendant ask us to buckle our seatbelts and get ready for takeoff.
I’m as calm as I’m going to get, and let all the quiet conversations wash over me while everyone else talks quietly.
When we’re levelled off and the Wi-Fi comes on, I go looking to see if Eli has posted anything recently, figuring it’s been enough time that I can enjoy his honesty online again.
The memory of him telling me how he’s perpetually online wants to take up space in my mind, but I just know that would have me blushing and I don’t need anyone seeing that, so I shove it away.
The algorithm is scarily good because I see a reply from Eli right there.
A fan of Vinny’s posted a picture of him—my guess is that it was after the game against New York had ended. Vinny’s drenchedwith sweat, his helmet in his hand, and has a pleased smile on his face that looks exactly like Dad’s. He looks satisfied with his white uniform askew.
@eagle21supremacy
look at him and weep!!! this is the hottest man alive
@eliellsworth @ivalsupremacy
counter: look at this boyish greek god
Eli’s simple response has a picture of me, yesterday morning, in those ridiculously comfy pajamas. I was sitting on the floor, smiling like a little kid as I was unwrapping a gift from Mom. In the background, part of the huge Christmas tree is visible on one side and the roaring fireplace on the other.
I can’t help but feel a ridiculous prideful thrill at being called a Greek god by Eli. I think anyone would feel that way, so I’m not even ashamed.
The fact that Eli thinks of me this way is... more than I think I’m worth, if I’m honest. He’s not only unfairly gorgeous and terrifyingly smart, but he’s also kind and has a confidence that few deserve.
He exists like he doesn’t owe the world anything, least of all an apology for who he is.
That’s probably the most attractive thing about him.
Or maybe it’s how he looks at me, like he sees every part of me and every part is not only acceptable but something to cherish.
A new standard settles in my mind—I’m going to become a man who’s worthy of that, of him.
Thanksto exceptionally bad post-Christmas traffic, even by LA’s standards, I’m late for afternoon practice even though we landed three hours before. But no one utters a single word when I arrive at the practice rink. I get enough hate-filled glares to understand that the chances of me getting out of here unscathed are decreasing by the second.
