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“What about it?”
“Well we’re only two people,” he laughed. “This one seats eight.”
“I wanted you on the other side,” I shrugged. “As far from me as possible. Instead you sat down right here.”
Instead of giving me more space, Elijah actually scooted closer. “Come on now,” he pleaded half-heartedly. “You don’t really mean that, do you?”
A handful of really amazing retorts came to mind. So many that I couldn’t pick just one.
Play along… play along… play along…
“No,” I replied, the word feeling like a hot coal in my mouth. “I guess not.”
Elijah’s body language changed again. He was practically vibrating with renewed expectations.
“I mean, I’m tired of all the fighting. All the arguing, the backhanded attacks. All the despicable things you’ve done to my friends.”
He raised a hopeful eyebrow. “Friends?”
God, how I desperately wanted to tell him! Shit, I wanted to rub his smug fucking face in it. I could even picture it too; giving him every last juicy detail about Tyler, Jay and Luca. Maybe even make some new details up, just to twist the knife.
“Yes, friends,” I lied through my teeth. “You didn’t think I was sleeping withallof them, did you?”
It was the best I could do. Throwing the truth in his face, even backhandedly, was at least semi-satisfying.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re doing with any of them,” Elijah said truthfully. He shifted a little closer, so that our bodies were almost touching. “I just know that you belong with me.”
I fought back another wave of revulsion as Elijah called the waiter over. He ordered a whiskey for himself and a bottle of wine, both of which showed up way too quickly for my liking. In the meantime I made small talk, which was easy because Elijah’s favorite subject was himself. I wasted a good ten minutes inviting him to fill in all the gaps over the past year we’d been apart, and asking him how he enjoyed Northhold, and whether it was a place he felt he could stay.
Elijah played his cards close to his vest, especially the part about staying in town. He would never settle down here of course, but if he wanted me back he’d at least let methinkhe would. His smiles were plastic, his words as disingenuous as could be. Old Jenna might’ve fallen for some of it, but new Jenna knew full well it was all part of whatever shitty plan he’d come up with to eventually win me over.
“Tell me something,” Elijah said finally, studying my face. Finally making his move, he slid one of his naturally-clammy hands over mine. “Are you actually here for me?”
I squinted back in mock confusion. “As opposed to—”
“As opposed to coming here purely to get me to call off the dogs,” he said evenly.
I pretended to be hurt, at least to some extent. Slipping my hand from beneath his, I downed the rest of the wine currently in my glass.
“Elijah—”
“Because if you came here hoping I’d let your friends off the hook,” he went on, “you’re going to be disappointed. That doesn’t happen untiltheyback off. That doesn’t happen until they fully admit you’re mine again.”
“Yours again…” I repeated numbly.
“Yes.”
His ego was so inflated he just couldn’t see past it! The whole thing was so stupid. So enraging. So asininely assumptive, that—
All thought stopped abruptly as my eyes finally settled upon the object of my search.
“Elijah?”
“Yes, angel?”
“I didn’t come here for you at all.”
His expression went from one of cool confidence to mild amusement.
