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Maybe, just maybe, I can allow myself to let go of my past. I never knew life could be this good…so peaceful and joyous. I never knew another human could make me feel this way, like a rare drug keeping me alive. If I don’t have my daily dose, I might die.
No longer is my life about me.
If this is what it feels like to love someone more than life itself, then I’m so fucked. Because I would give anything, and I mean anything, to have one more day with the woman curled around my body.
If I were to let her, she would walk away with my most vital organ. The organ that keeps you alive, even when your brain is dead.
My heart.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Roxy
“You ready?” Elliot smiles nervously, squeezing my hand three times. It’s the following Sunday after Elliot’s birthday, and we’re just in time for Skylar and Everett’s wedding shower. We’re standing outside of his parent’s house, a beautiful, colonial-style home in a residential neighborhood with tall oak trees and immaculate lawns.
Even though Elliot hasn't spoken the wordsI love youto me, he says it in other ways. By squeezing my hand three times or calling me his heart.
It’s been a week since the night of his birthday…The night I poured my heart out to him, and he made love to me in return. Since then, things have been different between us, but different in the best way.
I look down at our linked hands, Elliot’s long fingers intertwined with mine. We look like…a couple. I love the feeling, but the last thing I want is to scare him away, especially when I feel like he’s just now starting to warm up to the idea of us.
I clear my throat and lift my eyes to Elliot.
“I thought we agreed to tell everyone we’re just friends?” I ask weakly, my gaze flicking down to our locked hands.
“You’re still my date,” he replies with a soft smile, giving my hand another squeeze. “AndI don’t want any assholes getting the wrong idea. Look at you.” His voice turns husky as his eyes sweep down my body.
I’m wearing a lilac dress that cinches tight around my waist. The silk material is loose while hugging my body in all the right places. My dark hair is in lazy curls, half up, half down, with two small braids connecting at the back of my head. I paired the dress with a simple, beige handbag and nude, strappy heels.
Not only are me and Elliot holding hands, but our outfits make us look even more like a couple. I didn’t plan on matching with him, but I have to admit…We look pretty damn good together.
He’s wearing a beige suit paired with a white undershirt. His hair has grown longer in the past few weeks, styled back to perfection with one golden curl flopping over his forehead.
The setting June sun catches Elliot’s eyes, highlighting the gold in his irises as he smiles down at me.
He looks like a dream. My golden boy.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he mutters, his lips puckering when he says ‘beautiful’. “And you look like mine. I don’t care who thinks we’re a couple, as long as every single motherfucker in that house knows that you’re mine.”
Like clockwork, my cheeks heat at his possessiveness.
“Thank you,” I reply, lightly chuckling. “You look beautiful, too.”
He scrunches up his nose and tilts his head.
“What?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Beautiful?” he scoffs. “You could use a word a little more masculine, don’t you think? Like handsome, or I don’t know…sexy beast?” The corners of his mouth turn up in a shit-eating grin.
“Oh God,” I chuckle sarcastically while rolling my eyes.
We laugh together before Elliot leans down and places a sweet kiss to my forehead.
“Ready?” he asks.
I smile and nod.
Elliot takes a deep breath, wraps his free hand around the knob, and leads us through the door.
