Page 36 of Forever Flustered

She looked down at his hand clutching hers. It was aggressive, like he was holding on for dear life or afraid she would run. Maybe that is what happened to him growing up, because she was keenly aware that her own past shaped her outlook… so it was easy to assume his did too.

“Like this,” she whispered knowingly as she searched his eyes. Turning her hand over, she clasped his in a manner that was tender, gentler, and more welcoming. “I’m here and still want to talk, but I was surprised at how fast you got defensive. I’m not whatever enemy is haunting you. Hold my hand like a friend or a lover – not like you are taking control. That doesn’t work with me, and you should probably know that sooner rather than later.”

His horrified gaze shifted. Something in his eyes shattered. There was an inner awareness in those gray eyes that shattered, devolving quickly. He was reliving an inner nightmare that left him looking haunted and full of regret for that split second before he turned away, ashamed. He started to pull his hand away – and she clung to it stubbornly.

“Look at me,” she ordered softly, but he didn’t. “Look at me – and whatever is going through your head, spit it out. Talk to me.” Eli’s face slowly turned toward her as he swallowed, but he still couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“I… I didn’t,” he began, his voice achingly soft and frightened. “I didn’t hurt you – did I?” And she felt tears well up in her eyes in understanding – and recognition. He was scared that he’d hurt someone, just like he’d been hurt at one time.

“No,” she whispered, her heart aching for him. “But I would like you to look at me, Melon-head,” she teased tearfully, trying to draw him back out from whatever silent nightmare he’d mentally tripped and fallen into. “I was trying to show you how I want my boyfriend to hold my hand – and nothing you say can’t be handled with a candid conversation. I’m not some flower, but a relationship works two ways, and if you cross a line, I promise I’m gonna tell you.”

His eyes finally met hers. “I’m sorry – and yes, I need you to tell me if I cross a line.”

“Oh, I guarantee that I will,” she promised fervently. “I’ve never been one to wait or hope someone will notice. I will speak up for myself – every single time.”

“I don’t want there to be another time,” he whispered, his voice aching with emotion and remembered fear as his eyes searched hers. “I like you – and I never want to hurt you.”

“I like you too,” she replied just as gently. “And this is why we talk openly,” she prompted, repeating herself and feeling like a broken record at this point, but maybe this is what it took to finally reach him. “You can be cool and collected with everyone else, but if we’re going to try to make this a real relationship, then I need you to let me get to know the real you. Don’t hold back. Tell me what is going through your head and let’s talk about…”

“I think you’re breathtakingly beautiful,” He interrupted immediately, taking her by surprise as he suddenly stiffened, almost like he was bracing himself for the blowback – and there would be none. The look in his eyes was everything, and she wasn’t about to let the real ‘Eli’ hide again.

“I think you’re pretty hot, yourself,” she confessed softly, her eyes searching his as she waited to see if it was enough. “It might have been your eyes that caught my attention, but trust me – I like the whole package.”

He drew in a breath, let out a nervous chuckle… and to her shock, the tips of his ears started to redden.

“Are you blushing?” she asked incredulously. “You mean to tell me that the mighty Archangel is blushing because I finally admitted that I think you're hot.”

“Stop,” he began, but the smile that touched his lips was beautiful.

“Buddy, if you could see through my eyes at how beautiful you fill that uniform, then you’d understand,” she continued boldly, entranced by this unexpected side of him. “You must exercise a lot because I cannot wait to get you naked and on my table.” And something shifted between them, as she realized exactly what she’d admitted aloud, in the middle of the restaurant. Instead of seeing intense interest from a red-blooded male at her blunt statement… she saw shame and regret written all over his face. “What?”

“I’m going to disappoint you.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never…” he grew quiet before drawing in a nervous breath. “I’ve never slept with anyone.”

“I’m not inviting you to sleep with me,” she replied openly, keeping her voice low. “I’m a masseuse – not the village bicycle. Nobody ‘rides’ without putting a ring on my finger… and even then, I believe in full commitment.” Her words seemed so crass, but they were straight from the heart, and sometimes you just couldn’t sugarcoat things if you needed to get your point across without misunderstanding. “I grew up in a home with no parents. I had no foundation except the one that I had to build by myself – and no child deserves that. If we continue down this road, or that’s a ‘make-or-break’ thing for you… speak up now.”

“You don’t want children someday?” he asked hesitantly, and she shook her head.

“I didn’t say that. You’re the one mentioning sex.”

“You mentioned me naked,” he countered, keeping his voice to a whisper, almost like he was embarrassed or afraid someone would overhear them.

“I am a licensed massage therapist,” she repeated, smirking at him. “I rub out the kinks in a body – not encourage them.” And he made a weird snort, almost a half-laugh, as he covered his mouth in mortification. “Oh yes, you can laugh at that. It was meant as a joke – a very truthful one. In a massage, you relax the body, bring peace to the soul, and it’s a very soothing experience that’s performed with you naked but under a sheet. You’re covered. I am not going to see any of you, but I am gonna rub the heck out of those gorgeous shoulders,” she teased, giving him a wink deliberately just to see him blush once more.

It worked.

“I want it all someday,” she admitted softly, moving to hold his hand once again, their arms outstretched across the table scattered with plates, empty chip baskets, and half-drunk glasses that were beading sweat down the glass. “I want someone that I can be myself with, someone who respects me, and someone who knows how important or precious children and families are… and I’m willing to wait for the right person for me,” she finished quietly, her eyes searching his. “I like you – a lot – so please don’t take any of that the wrong way. I don’t mean it badly.”

He leaned forward once more – and clasped her other hand in his as he held her gaze, his eyes ragged and torn. “I’m not taking it the wrong way, Maureen. I’m glad you are brave enough to share your hopes and dreams with me. While I want the same things someday, I’m scared that I’m not the right guy.”

She smiled at him tearfully and gave his hands a quick squeeze. “Because you said that, that tells me that you might be – so don’t give up just yet, okay?”

“I won’t,” He promised, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he gave her a terse nod before looking away. “We should probably get out of here. Can you drop me off at Bode’s?”

“Do you want to come over for some herbal tea?” she asked openly, hoping that he wasn’t calling it a night already after sharing such frank discussions with him about what she wants from a man or in her future. He hesitated and then looked back at her.