Page 46 of Hate You to Love You

‘And then it’s like the best creative puzzle,’ I continue. ‘Coming up with words and putting sentences together in a way that carries an emotion to make a reader feel something is so much fun. It never feels like work.’

When I finish talking, Elliot is still looking at me with that smile. There’s a sense of wonder in his expression, so strong that I swear it has its own gravitational pull, and I’m stuck in his orbit. Not that I’m complaining.

‘I love the way you talk about writing,’ he whispers.

It might as well only be the two of us in the room.

‘All right, all right,’ Jones says suddenly, breaking apart the illusion that Elliot and I are the only ones in the room. ‘Elliot’s cheesier than what’s on the table! But I agree, we’re throwing a party to celebrate. This Saturday. From six. Tell your friends. Everyone we know is going to hear about our Carlos, the star writer.’

The Terrace is packed with people. Guests have broken up into little groups in every free corner. There’s the sound of glass clinking in the kitchen as people reach for bottles of vodka and tequila. Someone has already spilled beer all over the couch. A sour aroma from an open packet of salt and vinegar chips lingers in the kitchen, and smoke from the fire pit in the garden catches on our clothes. A dance floor has formed in the living room, where a group of us sway to the chorus of ‘Fix You’ by Coldplay.

My slow dance with Elliot is interrupted by Laney banging on the bathroom door.

‘Get out of there!’ she yells through the door. ‘People need to pee!’

‘What’s going on?’ I peer down the hallway.

‘A threesome,’ she groans. ‘I saw them go in.’

‘Gross.’ I wince. A share-house bathroom is not my idea of a romantic setting.

‘And inconsiderate. This is the only bathroom in the house!’

‘God, I’m busting,’ says Sal as he pushes past her and attempts to open the bathroom door.

Laney takes a deep breath, frowns at the door with her dark brown eyes and shouts, ‘I’m giving you guys until the count of three to get the hell out of there. Don’t think I won’t kick this door down!’

‘Screw it, I’ll find a bush or something,’ Sal cries when the door remains locked. I laugh as he bolts down the hallway.

The party slowly wraps up, with a few guests passed out and crashing in the living room. Sal, Jones and Laney eventually call it a night too. Which leaves Elliot and I alone to clean up the kitchen. We move around in the dark, careful not to make too much noise. Someone’s left the speaker on, but thankfully the playlist is mellow enough even for this hour, and the faint chorus of ‘Scar’ by Missy Higgins reaches us. As I move to pick up one of the empty beer bottles to throw out I collide with Elliot, chest to chest, and neither of us bothers to move away.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ I say.

He doesn’t reply, he simply gazes at me with a striking smile. His blue eyes shimmer in the dark.

‘What is it?’ I ask when he still doesn’t say anything.

Elliot steps back and leans against the counter, holding his head down low and breaking eye contact with me. ‘I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know I’ve been busy and distant over the last month, and we haven’t really had a chance to see each other.’

‘You’ve had work and your sister back in town – there’s nothing to apologise for.’

‘There is, though. Can I be honest with you about something?’

I nod. My heart begins to beat quickly.

‘I’ve been distant on purpose. And it’s not about you, I promise it’s not. It’s all me and it’s all in my head.’

In the dimly lit kitchen, I can see the despair wash over Elliot’s face behind strands of floppy hair. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

Elliot sighs and runs a hand through his hair. ‘Whenever things are going really well for my brother and sister, my parents start to put the pressure on me. They have this way of questioning my life choices that makes me doubt every decision I’ve ever made. I know they love me, but their words make me feel like a failure. Which is why I’ve been throwing myself into work lately, going above and beyond for my authors, helping out with any event I could. I just want to prove that I’m worth something.’ Elliot speaks in a hushed tone, drawing his words out with every breath. ‘I guess I’ve been doing all this extra work to prove something to them.’

‘You have nothing to prove,’ I say. I lean in to give Elliot a forehead kiss. ‘You always tell me that I help you see the magic, but that’s exactly what you do for me.’ I run the tips of my fingers across his right arm to soothe him. ‘You love sharing books with people, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And you love taking care of authors?’

‘I do.’