She’d made it sound like we were going to talk today. Like she was going to wait to hear what I had to say about this entire thing before she just upped and moved in.
But no. She wasn’t even going to let me pack my shit up before she came in and took over, and it was making me rethink everything. I’d thought I could do this, give this proximity a chance, but now that I was here? Fuck, I didn’t know. Ellie already took over all my waking thoughts. And now, seeing her here, taking over my goddamn house, too?
I knocked on the door like I didn’t use to live here, and Ellie whipped it open within seconds.
“Oh, hi.” She looked shocked to see me, her eyes running up and down my body like I might not be real. And even though she hadn’t meant it like that, it did things to my insides. Made my skin crawl with a familiar want. “I was going to call you in a bit, but this is…this is better.”
Better, was it?
I wasn’t convinced that having our conversations in person reallywasbetter, considering that being within a few feet ofEleanor Summers without touching her was most definitely my personal brand of torture, but what did I know?
I raked my fingers through my hair, needing to do something with my hands. “Couldn’t wait to move in, huh?”
“Your mom told me I should come see the house before I decided for sure if I wanted to live here. She said she’d made a few changes since…” She drifted off, but I could fill in the blanks. “Since the last time I’d been here, but I honestly haven’t noticed anything different.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Well, my mom askedmeto come by and get some of my things out of the way for you.”
Ellie sighed, like she knew exactly what that meant. My mom, the orchestrator.
“Oh, Annie…” she muttered and then opened the door wider for me. “Well, come on in.”
“Look at you, acting like you own the place already,” I said dryly.
She looked horrified by that implication, her eyes growing wide. “Sully, I?—”
“It’s fine.”
I wasnotmaking it sound like it was fine.
“Is it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Guess I was going to try the sarcasm route, then. “Ilovethe fact that my ex-girlfriend is moving into my childhood home and displacing all my stuff.”
She stepped back as I strode into the foyer of the home, bracing myself for the impact of being back here. But it didn’t smack me over the head like I’d been expecting. It was more of a gradual sensation that trickled down my spine, washing over me in waves. The floral wallpaper. The faint scent of Mom’s baking, somehow woven into the core of this place. The worn oak on the banister, from where we’d grab it as we launched ourselves up the stairs as kids.
“You don’t have to do that,” Ellie muttered.
I’d been looking around the house so I wouldn’t have to lookatEleanorin the house, but then I wasn’t sure what was worse. Seeing the backdrop of all my memories or seeing the woman who was present in all of them, standing there and looking just as beautiful as ever. Like we’d never even left.
“Do what?”
“Move your stuff.”
“It’s fine,” I repeated and then forced myself to look at her—like, really look at her.
My God, she really was something. Today, she wore jean shorts and a strappy black tank top, looking effortlessly hot. Her hair was spun into a topknot, her bangs wispy in how they framed her pretty face. But it wasn’t her clothes or her hairstyle that caught my attention—no, there was just something about her, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Something that was different from what it had been in Boston.
“I also don’thaveto move in,” she pressed, oblivious to my ogling. “I meant what I said last night. I really did want you to think about it and let me know what you thought. I can find another place to live?—”
“It’sfine, Eleanor,” I insisted, but maybe I should really find another word to use other thanfine, considering she was sawing her teeth across her bottom lip, worrying. Which made it really hard not to stare at her mouth. And even harder not to fold her into my arms. “Really,” I said, softer. Sighing. “If you want to live here, then by all means. My mom’s right. Someone really should.”
As conflicted as I was about this entire thing, there was also truth to the fact that a part of my brain didn’t mind it. The idea that she was here. That she was back where she’d once belonged, even ifweno longer belonged here.
“Sully—”
“So, is it work?” I asked, needing to know and also needing her to stop calling me that when she never used to before.
“What?”
