Page 22 of Fated to Her

Every piece of me is calling for them, unable to go without them. They are my vice, and now I can’t understand how I’ve ever doubted them.

“What are you thinking about?” Cyrus asks, but I shake my head, wiggling closer and pulling Eli’s hand up higher, loving their warmth pressed against me.

• • •

The next morning I wake to Eli climbing out of bed. I’m still pressed firmly against Cyrus’s chest while he absentmindedly twirls my hair around his fingers as he stares at his phone.

“We can always cancel and just head home,” Cyrus tells Eli.

“No, we should just get it over with, then go home,” Eli says, and I prop my chin on Cyrus’s chest, wondering what they are talking about.

“Are you going somewhere?” I ask him.

“We are supposed to have a meeting, but Eli is going. I’ll stay here with you.”

I shake my head.

“I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” Cyrus says.

“Then I will come,” I tell him, and he looks over to Eli, and so do I. He shrugs, not really caring.

“Fine. I have some of your clothes here, anyway. I’ll grab them for you,” Cyrus says, sitting up and forcing me up from my comfy spot on him.

“Go shower. We will leave in thirty minutes,” Eli says, slapping my butt.

I scoot to the edge of the bed to stand . When Eli walks out, I’m actually grateful because the moment I do, my head spins, making me sway slightly as I stumble to the bathroom.

Clutching the sink basin, I turn the tap on, wetting my face with cool water before turning the shower on. Other than standing too quickly, I feel pretty good. After I shower, Cyrus comes in with a white blouse and a high-waisted black skirt of mine. He leaves them on the bed before going to the bathroom and coming back out with a hair dryer.

“Come here. You dress while I dry your hair,” he says, plugging it in at the outlet near the dresser.

I dump my clothes on the dresser and dry myself while Cyrus fiddles with my hair, brushing and drying it.

“Missed your calling, should have been a hairdresser.”

He grunts, not agreeing, as I pull my panties up my legs. Eli strolls in as I pull my arms through my blouse and do up the buttons.

“You’re aware I can dress myself?” I tell him.

He ignores my comment. Then the dryer shuts off.

“Step into it,” Cyrus says, and I peer down to see my skirt.

I do as he asks, and he pulls it up before doing the zip at the back. The skirt is sitting mid-thigh. I tug it down a little, not liking my legs so exposed while Eli tucks my shirt into it.

“We can stop on the way. I don’t have shoes here for you, but there is a shoe shop on the corner of the main street,” Cyrus says.

I follow them to the car, climbing in the back. Eli drives us into the city, stopping to get coffee and at the shoe shop.

Cyrus jumps out before returning with some black strappy heels that are a little higher than I would have preferred, but I can’t complain; they are better than going barefoot.

“So, who is this meeting with?” I ask.

Eli looks at me in the rearview mirror. “With Pete, it’s to do with—”

“Sam?”

He nods. “We also have a normal meeting after but can cancel if you want,” Eli says.