Chapter 18 #2
“So, there’s Lottie, the blonde you met at Grip Lap.
She was the first friend I made when I moved here.
It, uh, wasn’t too different to how I became friends with you guys.
She kinda forced her way into my life. And once we had gotten close-ish we started to hang out with her husband, Mason.
It was inevitable, becoming friends with them both, when Mason co-owns the gym and we worked together.
And then Hannah is her younger sister. She started tagging along on our girl’s nights.
“We’re not as close, because she was pretty focused on school.
But she just graduated from college in May and has already started spending more time with me.
She’s a lot like Lottie in that regard. Although she’s got a completely different personality, otherwise.
She’s more…carefree. Kind of goofy, a lot like Cole.
He’s Mason’s best friend. But after befriending Lottie, they were all kind of a package deal.
They all grew up together and have been close friends since like, I dunno, middle school or something.
So, being friends with Lottie meant I was forced to be friends with the rest of their group. ”
“Well, from what I could tell of Lottie and Cole,” he said with a smile, “they certainly seem like great friends. They were definitely eager to protect you, that’s for sure. Which I appreciate, but I’m kind of thinking Lottie hates me.”
“Lottie’s the mother hen of the group. But we love her for it. She thought you were a stranger that was stalking me or something, but she’ll come around once she realizes you’re not actually crazy.”
I started laughing, and Enoch’s eyes flared, a smile breaking out across his face as he watched me.
“What?”
“My friends are convinced you’re a dangerous love interest from a dark romance novel.”
Enoch choked on air, slapping his chest as his eyes widened comically with surprise. “W-what?”
I chuckled, taking in the most normal, puppy-dog-eyed man.
“Well, you were wielding a knife and holding me like an animal staking its claim according to Cole.”
Enoch floundered to speak. I laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully.
Enoch seemed to sober up, his eyes smiling, “So, you talk about me to your friends?”
I rolled my eyes, playing with the hem of my shirt. “No. I mean, yes, but I didn’t bring you up. They did.”
“I guess I should be relieved that I looked menacing enough to leave an impression. At least it’ll keep any guys from trying to catch your eye.”
“I mean this in the nicest way possible,” I said, licking my lips as the smiled threatened to ruin my stoic face. “You’re as menacing as a mouse.”
It was Enoch’s turn to shove me, and I chuckled, straightening back into my position on the couch.
“I’m sorry, it’s just you’ve got the most endearing face. With your brown eyes and dimple. I just don’t see what they’re saying.”
Enoch rolled his eyes, purposefully flashing me his dimpled smile. “So, what you’re saying is I’m like a prince charming.”
“Whatever, shitbird.”
“For real though, I’ve kinda made a horrible first impression with all of your friends. Do they hate me?”
I tilted my head, watching Enoch bite into his lip.
“Do you care what my friends think of you?”
Enoch shrugged, but it was clear on his face that it bothered him. “They’re important to you, so I want them to like me. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe we can all hang out together, and they can see I’m not a weirdo they need to be worried about.”
“Sure. If that’s what you want, I can mention the idea to them.”
Enoch nodded and I bit into my lip, my eyes dancing around the room as the silence filled the gap in our conversation.
“And they don’t know anything about your past, right?”
I shook my head.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s a valid question. Um, they think I’m from Oklahoma.
The backstory to them is that my family was abusive, and I moved away to escape them.
They know to keep me off social media because I told them I didn’t want my family to know where I live.
It doesn’t come up really at all in conversation anymore after I told them that.
Keeps most people from asking detailed questions and gives a good explanation for why I’m reserved and don’t want to talk about my past.”
“And I guess it’s not too far from the truth either,” he muttered.
“Yeah…right.”
“Was it difficult to change your name? I feel like I would accidentally say my birth name on instinct.”
I tilted my head as I gave it some thought.
“I think the fear of messing up had me too alert to ever make the mistake. But it did take some time to remember that was my name when someone would call my attention.”
“Do you, like, in your own head call yourself Emory, or do you still refer to yourself as Shiloh?”
“Hm.” I paused. “I honestly never really thought about it, but, yeah, in my head I still call myself Shiloh.”
“I do, too. No lie, it’s been really hard to remember to call you Emory. I don’t know if that will ever change. I, um, kinda have your name tattooed on my skin.”
My jaw dropped. Enoch chuckled. “Hey, you’re covered in tattoos. It’s not crazy to believe that I have a few of my own.”
“Yeah, but, my name? Really?” My nose scrunched as I swept my gaze over his clothed body. His arms showed no hints of a tattoo. “Where?”
“Don’t worry, it’s not in an obscene location or anything. And I love your name. It’s beautiful. And I’m pretty fond of the person it’s attached to, so of course I wanted to have it etched permanently in my skin.”
I laughed with more than a little bit of incredulity. After a moment of us just staring at each other, Enoch spoke.
“I, um, I wanted to ask you something.”
I turned back to face him. His brown eyes dance across my face, watching my reaction. I nodded for him to continue, my stomach already tensing in anticipation.
“You’re not dating anyone else, right?”
I nearly laughed with relief. An easy answer for once.
“No,” I said with a smile. “I’m not dating anyone.”
Enoch blew out a breath, like he had actually been nervous for my response. “Okay.”
I licked my lips, head tilting to the side as I watched him rub his palms down his jeans. Dating. Enoch and me. Enoch and me dating. Maybe this was all an elaborate daydream.
“Is that what we’re doing? Dating?”
Enoch blinked, staring at me for a moment. “Yeah. I mean, aren’t we?”
I thought about it for a moment. Thought back to our heated kiss in the driveway. Thought back to spending the night last weekend. Thought back to how much we’ve been texting all hours of the day since he left my place on Saturday.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Holy shit. How is this real life?
Was I going to actually do this? Was I really going to let myself be happy? Was I really going to put him through the hell of losing me again? Or was I going to live the rest of this life outrunning my past and pretending Enoch and I were meant to be together forever?
“Can I ask, have you dated anyone else since,” he trailed off and I hesitated. I wouldn’t classify my marriage as dating. But would he be mad if he found out I was a liar? And, technically, a cheater.
“I was in relationship, years ago,” Enoch’s eyes flashed with momentary surprise, “but I’ve not dated anyone or…I mean, no one has ever compared to you. I don’t,” I paused, biting into my lip as I pushed through the discomfort of being honest. “I don’t think anyone ever will.”
He pulled my hand into his lap, lacing our fingers together.
“I tried dating for a while, as in, I went on a handful of dates with other women. But, honestly, I probably sabotaged all of them because I was already drinking way too much at that point. I wasn’t exactly in the best position to be in a relationship with anyone.
And none of them were you. It’s rather hard to find someone as equally prickly and sweet as you are. ”
I rolled my eyes and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
I still hated myself for how much hurt I’d caused him.
Hated that he’d turned to alcohol. Hated that he’d always battle that addiction, not unlike the one I witnessed first-hand as a child.
Alcohol wasn’t the same as drugs like heroin and cocaine, but I remember how I nearly fell into the same path of using substances when I needed the escape.
When I craved the promised lie of happiness it offered me.
And now I was addicted to hurting myself.
Addicted to pain and the high that followed it.
“Well,” he chuckled softly, breaking me from my thoughts, “now that I know that you’re not seeing anyone else. Can I officially call you mine?”
My heart thudded in my chest.
“Are you really sure you want that?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. He leaned his face towards mine until we were eye to eye.
My chest filled with butterflies. For now. You won’t want me forever.
But maybe that’s what I could do. Enjoy the ‘for now’ until the past caught up to me. And pray that my darkness didn’t touch him, didn’t tarnish his goodness and get him killed.
Enoch released my hand to slip his arm around my waist and lift me into his lap. He pulled my face down to meet him.
“I love you.” He paused to kiss me. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He kissed me again, his mouth hovering above mine as he spoke. “You’re mine. And I’m never going to let you go.”
I swallowed. Why was it so hard for me to believe him? If the roles were reversed, I’d love him unconditionally.
His breath came out like a growl, and he nipped at my bottom lip. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what,” he challenged, his lips pressing firmly against mine.
“I really don’t,” I whispered. My eyes flashed open as delicious pain shot down my scalp. He tugged my braid until his lips were just out of my reach.
“Stop overthinking this.”
I huffed. “But what about your job? You’re not going to be in Anchorage forever. What about when they move you again?”