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“Great, now the dollar limit . . . let’s say . . . fifty?”
“Fifty is good for me.” Elliot stood and patted my shoulder. “If anyone knows what a certain mother figure would want, please let me know.”
“Hey!” Jillian screamed. “You just gave away who you got.”
“No, I didn’t. I count three mothers in the room. So . . . if anyone knows any hints, shoot them my way.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I need to call Bennett and make sure their flights are settled, see you back at the cabin?”
I gave him a hum in response. He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss before telling everyone goodnight and leaving. I pretended to ignore Jillian’s look that stabbed me from across the room.
“Is Dax okay?” Harrison asked.
“Yeah, I think . . .” I muttered. “I think he’s just nervous for his band coming out. They’ve only really played in Oregon. Maybe Washington. Park City is a different crowd.”
“I’m sure that’s it,” Jillian said, leaning back into her chair.
“I’ll talk to him before we go to bed.” I stood and walked into the kitchen. “Do you have any more of that Mango Moscato, Mom?”
“No . . .” She sighed. “You drank it all.”
I settled on a sweeter white wine as we talked by the fire. I could see the light glow from our cabin. Knowing Elliot was there by himself put a sour taste in my mouth. I saw small movements every now and then, nothing that could help me determine what he was doing, but enough to know he wasn’t comfortable. I gave him a few hours of space, and once the kids had all gone to bed, and my parents and Harrison walked to their cabin, I said goodnight to Jillian and Holden and made my way over to Elliot.
The kitchen stove light was on, creating that soft glow, and the balcony light was on. He was sitting on the couch, his guitar next to him and a notebook on his lap. I walked up to the living room, noticing the blanket and pillow on the couch.
“Are you sleeping down here?” I asked softly.
He looked up at me. “Yeah, I thought I would tonight. I need to finish this song, so I’ll be up for a bit longer.”
I gave him a hum and nod. “Alright then. I guess I’ll go to bed.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight . . .” I elongated thei, trying to figure out if he was being mad or just considerate that he needed the light a little longer. “I’ll just . . . get ready and turn the light off?”
He looked up at the balcony. “Oh, right.” He reached over and turned the lamp on. “The overhead light is too strong so I put the balcony light on. You can turn it off.”
“Okay . . .” I wasn’t going to draw it out any further. I didn’t say anything else. I swiftly turned and went upstairs, a stronger thump with each step. I slammed—not on purpose—the door to the bathroom, causing myself to flinch. “Good one, Jamie,” I muttered to myself. “Let’s just piss him off even more. It’s not like he’s the best non-boyfriend you’ve ever had and gives you all the swoony kisses and looks, and you had to go and piss him off.” I glared at myself in the mirror before waving myself off and climbing in the shower.
I braided my wet hair and brushed my teeth, taking longer in the bathroom than planned. I knew Elliot, most likely, was waiting for his chance to shower, so, rolling my eyes I left the bathroom, only to be greeted by a dark cabin. He had turned off the lights. I was tempted to go peek over the balcony, but thought better of it. Instead, I let out a long breath and walked over to the bed.
Over the past week Elliot had taken the right side of the bed, always lying on his right to scoop me up, but the empty bed confirmed the fact that he was on the couch. I climbed in and attempted to get comfortable, but the bed seemed bigger without him in it.
Pull yourself together, it’s only been a week.
“Elliot,” I finally gave in. “This is ridiculous, come to bed.”
“I’m fine, Jamie,” he muttered.
“Yeah, well, I’m not, so get up here.” I sat up and watched the stairs, trying to be quiet, waiting for any sign of movement from him.
After a few moments of silence, I heard him heave a sigh and then the couch groaned. The floorboards began to creak and then he was skipping the demon stair, walking around to his side of the bed. I watched as he pulled the covers down and laid flat on his back. He placed his hands on his bare chest and closed his eyes.
Even pissed off he was stunning.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
He opened one eye and turned his head. “For?”
“The sex comment I made today.”
