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“It’s fine,” Ingrid said. “I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I felt like my face was forgetting how to be genuine in some ways.
“So…” This time Luca was speaking. “You’re an artist.” I suspected he was asking the question because he wanted to change the subject.
“I wouldn’t say that I’m an artist,” I told the table. “It’s just a hobby.”
“She’s good,” Eli chimed in. This was the first time he’d spoken since he scolded his brother. It was clear to me that Eli was not much of a talker, which I found interesting. When we were together, he was careful with his words, but he was much more open with me than his family.
“You must be,” Ingrid said. “Eli’s not known for giving compliments so easily.”
I felt my cheeks turn pink. Despite my party girl past, I was not someone who enjoyed being in the spotlight.
My eyes met Eli’s, and I tried not to be so obvious about the way I felt when he looked at me with dark eyes. When I’d first met him, I thought Eli’s eyes were cold, but now, I realized they were just guarded. When we’d slept together, the heat of his gaze had been so hot that I swore I would burn from it.
“I don’t give compliments to people who don’t deserve them.” Eli didn’t take his eyes off of me as he spoke, and I swore everyone at the table had to know what we’d done. “Carla’s talented. She is worthy of my praise.”
Those words made my mouth go dry and my panties flood with desire.
What Eli and I were doing was dangerous, and I prayed that I would not be the one who ended up getting burned.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Once Luca and Ingrid left, I went back upstairs to my room. I swore that Ingrid knew what was going on between Eli and I. Matteo too. The two of them looked at the two of us throughout dinner with what I could only say was suspicious eyes.
Matteo had followed Ingrid and Luca out of the house, muttering something about a party, which left Eli and I alone. Ivy and Marco were at some charity thing. I noticed that the two of them didn’t spend a lot of time home, which was new for me.
Growing up, my father traveled a lot, but my mother was always home with us. Looking back, I wondered if she was happy about that, or if she resented that she was left at home.
The feeling of Eli’s fingertips smoothing the crease between my eyes drew me out of my memories. “You’re doing it again,” he whispered. We were standing outside my bedroom door.
“What am I doing?”
He cupped my cheek and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the skin between my eyes. “Overthinking.”
I closed my eyes, sighing at the feeling of his warm lips on my skin. I could not remember the last time someone had offered me comfort. After everything that happened to me, I was treated like a suspect. No one had offered me comfort. Not even my father.
He’d been too busy drowning in his own grief to notice my own.
“Do you want to come in?” It was a silly question considering that this was Eli’s house, but there was a part of me that did not want to be alone. These days, being around people was difficult, but sometimes being alone was worse.
Eli stroked my cheek. “I thought that you wanted to keep things separate.”
I did. I didn’t want whatever this was getting back to my father, and I didn’t want Marco and Ivy placing me under an even tighter microscope.
“No one is home,” I reminded him. His hand was warm on my cheek, and I covered it with my own. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” Maybe it was a mistake, being vulnerable in front of Eli. He might have told me that he’d never really hated me, but a part of me still felt like his anger had been directed at me.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
It was a simple question, but there was a lot of weight in it. From the way that Eli was looking at me, I suspected he knew there was something wrong. Not that I was great at hiding that.
There were times where my mind was out of my control.
“Are you going to force me to tell you?” There was a snap to my tone. Having to constantly prove myself was starting to become exhausting. “It wasn’t lost on me at the table that Matteo now is pressing me for why I’m here.”
Eli’s hand dropped from my cheek, and I missed the warmth of his touch. “I didn’t say I was going to press the issue. I told you that I was going to let it go, and I have.”
Immediately, my shoulders sagged. “Shit,” I muttered. “I’m sorry. I think I’m just tired.”
