Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
As I suspected, I spent the entire weekend thinking about Elijah and his request. Even though I’d basically made my decision on Friday afternoon, I wondered if it was the right one.
I also debated whether or not I should ask my friends for advice.
I wouldn’t have to tell them his name, but ultimately I decided not to bring it up.
They would know who I was talking about if things did work out.
I didn’t want to be the cause of tension in the group.
As a recovering people-pleaser, I still struggled with conflict and hated to be the source of it.
The texts from Elijah started that evening. They were exactly what I expected. Until around ten p.m.
I tended to go to bed early, even on the weekends, something that he knew.
Elijah: Good night, sweet girl. Sleep well.
Grier: Good night, Eli.
A selfie came through then. He was lying in bed, shirtless, the room only lit by a bedside lamp.
Elijah: I miss you and wish you were here with me. Are you already in bed?
Shit. Shit. Shit. I hated the way I wanted to melt at his words. I’d spent so many years needing someone to want me. To need me.
Grier: Yes.
Elijah: Send me a pic.
I frowned as I considered his demand.
Elijah: Please?
Okay, so it was a request. I glanced down at my light cotton pajamas. The white material was thin and stretchy. And a little transparent. Elijah liked them when he used to stay with me. He said that he could see straight through them when the light hit just right.
Finally, I settled back on my pillows and took a selfie. I didn’t give myself a chance to reconsider before I hit send. My face heated as I waited for his response.
Elijah: Now I really wish you were here. Those are my favorite PJ’s.
Grier: I think you should delete that photo.
Elijah: No way. It’s going to get me through the night.
Even though he couldn’t see me, I blushed harder.
Another picture came through, this one taken from a wider angle and it encompassed his bare torso.
I could see a sliver of elastic where his shorts were low on his hips but the rest of him was bare.
Every dip and curve of his muscled upper body was on display.
He’d definitely been spending more time at the gym since the last time I’d seen him like this.
Elijah: There. We’re even, so I don’t have to delete the pic.
Grier: That’s not how this works.
Elijah: I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you delete the photo if you come over here and let me see you in person.
I knew exactly how that would end—with me in bed with him. Not a good plan considering it hadn’t even been a full twelve hours since our lunch and his request for another chance.
Grier: I guess you get to keep the pic then.
Elijah:
I was tempted to keep staring at the last thirst trap, I mean selfie, he’d sent me, but I knew it was a bad idea.
Elijah: Sweet dreams, baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Grier: Sweet dreams, Eli.
I forced myself to set the phone aside and turn out the light. I curled up beneath the covers, fully expecting to spend most of the night tossing and turning. Instead, I slept better than I had in weeks.
The rest of the weekend went much the same. Elijah would send me messages throughout the day, similar to the ones he would send before. But he also talked about missing me and wishing we were spending time together. Something he hadn’t done previously.
My poor, sad heart ate it up. There was no resisting him. Not when he seemed to know exactly what to say and do to get under my skin.
Sunday evening I’d just finished eating dinner and cleaning up when my phone chimed. I knew without looking that it was Elijah. He’d been texting me every night around this time. I picked up my phone and smirked when I saw I was right.
Elijah: Can we do a video call?
I knew this was coming, too. He’d given me the weekend to think.
I was almost certain he wanted my answer to his request for another shot.
I wasn’t wearing any make-up, and my hair was in a loose bun on top of my head.
I didn’t exactly look my best, but I figured he needed to get used to it if he wanted to date me.
I was never going to be the woman who was always put together and pretty.
Grier: Okay.
My phone started ringing immediately after I sent my reply. Despite my nerves, I was smiling when I answered the video call. He seemed eager to talk to me.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted me as soon as the call connected.
Like me, he was on his couch only he was shirtless instead of dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants like me. His hair was messy, and his eyes were a little sleepy, as though he’d just woken up from a nap.
“Hey. You look relaxed.”
He grinned at me. “I am. I passed out on the couch for an hour and just woke up a little while ago. What have you been up to today?”
“Laundry and rotting on the couch. I had girl dinner a little bit ago.”
He cocked his head to one side, a small smile on his face. “What on Earth is girl dinner?”
“Well, it’s different for everyone, but, for me, it’s a bunch of little snacky foods like cheese, crackers, lunch meat, fruit, and pickles or olives. Sometimes I’ll do little pinwheels, too.”
“Pinwheels?”
“Tortillas spread with cream cheese or something else and topped with whatever sounds good. I did diced ham and green onions today.”
“That does sound really good,” he said.
“It was.”
“Think I could come over for girl dinner sometime?” he asked.
I knew he really wanted to ask me if I’d reached a decision but didn’t want to jump right in and ask. Still, I answered him anyway.
“I think that would be nice.”
The little smile on his face morphed into a huge, boyish grin. “Really?”
“Yeah. It would be nice to chill on the couch and eat girl dinner with you while we watch something ridiculous on TV.”
“That sounds better than nice,” he murmured.
“Did you do anything besides nap today?”
He shrugged, the muscles of his shoulders flexing. I tried not to let my eyes wander, but I couldn’t help it. He didn’t seem to notice though.
“I woke up before dawn and decided to get some work done. I had a piece that I’ve been trying to finish for a couple of weeks, but it wasn’t coming together right.”
I’d never seen anything like his sculptures.
Some were small enough to sit on a table.
Others were larger, maybe the size of a floor lamp, but he also made larger scale pieces from time to time as well, usually commissioned.
He revealed more of himself in his art than he did when he spoke.
There was a vulnerability to his work that he never seemed to share with anyone else…
except for our lunch of Friday. I saw it then.
“Did you finish it?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’m bringing it to the gallery tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing it.”
“Good. It’s for you.”
I knew my eyes were huge. “What?” I whispered.
“You inspired the piece, which means it belongs to you.”
My mouth was hanging open so I closed it as I stared at his face on the screen. Finally, I said, “I have no idea what to say.”
“Thank you?”
A small laugh escaped my mouth. “Thank you.”
“Maybe don’t say it until you see the piece, in case you don’t like it.”
“I’ve liked all your work so far. At least the work I’ve seen.” I cleared my throat because it wanted to close. No one had ever made me anything before. Not like that.
“Good.” He paused and changed the subject. “So, I’m hoping that your offer of girl dinner at your place means that you’re going to give me a chance to spend time with you.”
“It does.”
“Does that mean I can take you lunch tomorrow?”
I bit my lip. “I’m not sure.”
“We’ll take it slowly,” he replied.
“That sounds good.”
“It sounds good to me, too.”
We talked for another half hour before I yawned.
Elijah’s expression was tender as he said, “I think it’s your bedtime, pretty girl.”
“I think so, too.”
“Sweet dreams.”
“You too, Eli.”
For the first time since Friday I slept soundly when I went to bed.