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I should have bought more wine.
“Nice hoodie,” he says.
I look down at my ridiculous attire. I’m wearing short pajamas because my legs always get overheated in bed. But my feet don’t so they’re clad in fluffy socks. On top is his hoodie and although my hair is neat, it’s tied back in a high ponytail like I’m trying out for a role inGrease.
“Come in.” I step aside. “Can I get you a towel?”
He rubs his wet hair. “It’s fine. It only just started when I got out of the car.” He looks at my coffee table. Half-drunk wine and half-eaten chocolates. I must look like a loser.
I take a deep breath. “Okay then, hit me with it.”
“With what?”
“You’ve seen the video, right?”
He nods.
I curl my fingers into my palms, ready for the brush off. “There are jokes. Viral ones.Ice beavers invading the rinkhave been mentioned,” I tell him. “Beavertown looks colder than I rememberis another. I think that one made Letterman.”
“Mac…”
The way he says my name is like a caress.
“You know the worst ones though?” I ask, not waiting for an answer. “All the people that accused me of having some kind of relationship with my dad because I fell over and bared it all. That made me feel sick.”
He says nothing. Just looks at me. I feel raw and exposed.
“I don’t usually go around showing my body off. My boyfriend told me it would be hot.” I blink. “Actually, I don’t think he wastechnicallymy boyfriend. I thought he was then, but he wasn’t.” There’s no point in explaining it. It was a long time ago and I was stupidly naïve. Just stupid, actually.
But I’ve grown up and moved on. Mostly.
Eli’s lips part. He breathes out. Still saying nothing.
So I keep on rambling. “I guess I’m lucky it happened then. Before Twitter and Instagram were a thing. Before people went viral in a matter of seconds.” I try to smile but my cheeks won’t play ball. “Anyway, so now you know. I’m an idiot who can’t skate for shit and everybody knows what I look like with no clothes on.”
“You were wearing clothes.”
I will not cry. Not over something that’s old history.
“And I don’t know what you look like,” he tells me.
“Of course you do. You saw the video.”
“When I realized what was happening, I turned it off. I barely saw anything.”
“Why?” I don’t understand.
“Because if you want me to see you, you’ll show me. I don’t get off watching somebody get humiliated.”
“You really didn’t watch it all?” I ask, my voice small. Because there were some pretty intense close up shots.The Hair of Beavertown.That was another favorite.
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
There’s a little spark of hope in my heart. And a feeling that Eli is a good, good man. A man I want to wrap my body around.
And that’s when I launch myself at him.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
