14. Eli
CHAPTER 14
ELI
Sophia stepped out of the library beside me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as the automatic doors slid shut behind us.
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” she asked, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder.
“Yeah,” I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
She shot me a quick smile before heading off in the opposite direction, her boots crunching over scattered leaves.
I turned toward the grocery store, my breath curling in the cool evening air.
Back in L.A., I drove everywhere. My parents had gifted me a car for my eighteenth birthday—sleek, reliable, and something I’d assumed I couldn’t live without. But here? Everything important was close by. Campus, the apartments, the grocery store. Walking didn’t bother me. I barely even missed having a ride.
At least, not until now.
When I’d entered the library, the sun was still up, and fifty-something degrees had felt manageable. But now? The temperature had dipped, and the last of the sunlight was fading into a soft, golden haze.
I flexed my fingers in my pockets, debating whether I should turn back and grab something warmer. But the grocery store was just ahead—closer than the apartment—and going back didn’t make much sense. Besides, Niall had his car. I’d get home in comfort.
I picked up the pace.
Niall was already waiting outside of the store, leaning against a cart like he had all the patience in the world.
And like he belonged in a damn magazine spread.
The parking lot lights cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the sharp lines of his face, the curve of his jaw. He was wearing a black jacket, heavier than what I had on, but not quite winter gear. Something practical, fitted, like the kind of thing an athlete would throw on without thinking twice. Hands stuffed into his pockets, broad shoulders hunched slightly against the breeze, he looked effortlessly put together.
I, on the other hand, was actively fighting the urge to shiver.
He glanced up as I approached, his sharp blue eyes skimming over me before settling on my face.
“You’re late.”
His voice was low, even, but something about it sent a flicker of warmth through me.
I huffed out a breath, visible in the cold air. “I’m on time. You’re just early.”
Niall didn’t argue. Just held my gaze for a beat before pushing off the cart and nodding toward the entrance.
I swallowed.
I had no business thinking about another guy. Not when I was still trying to put myself back together, figuring out who I was without Chase’s influence pressing in on all sides. And definitely not when I had no idea where Niall landed on the spectrum of attraction—if he even landed there at all. Plus, he’d only recently begun tolerating me, anyway. One step at a time.
Better to keep those thoughts to myself.
But as we stepped inside and warmth enveloped us, the scent of ground coffee and fried food filling the air, I found myself wishing—just for a second—that Niall wasn’t straight.
I exhaled and flexed my fingers, trying to get some feeling back.
“All right,” I said, heading toward the produce section. “Potatoes, bananas, and blueberries.”
Niall fell into step beside me, steering the cart along. “No shortcuts, huh?”
“None.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, like the idea of doing things the right way was both amusing and mildly exasperating.
I shot him a grin as I reached for a bag of Yukon Golds. Then I caught the price and blinked. “Huh.”
Niall gave me a side glance. “Problem?”
“Just still getting used to how much some things cost here.” I dropped the bag into the cart. “Some stuff is way cheaper than in L.A., but then I see things like this, and I swear it should cost less.”
Niall snorted. “Welcome to small-town grocery stores. Limited options, higher prices.”
“Yeah, I figured that out when I saw what they charge for avocados.”
His lips twitched. “Bet that was rough for a California boy.”
“Devastating.” I grabbed a bunch of bananas and added them to the cart. “Bananas are for the pancakes.”
He frowned slightly. “You put bananas in the batter?”
I tossed some blueberries in next. “Sometimes. Other times, I caramelize them with brown sugar and butter.”
His eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure out if I was messing with him. “That’s… a lot of effort for pancakes.”
“All meals should be five-star meals.”
That almost smile twitched at the corner of his mouth again, but he shook his head.
We moved along the aisles, no particular order in mind. We stopped at the packaged meat aisle. Niall reached past me for the bacon. His arm brushed my shoulder, just barely, but I felt it everywhere.
I ignored the way my pulse jumped and kept moving.
We hit the dairy aisle next, and I slowed the cart, scanning the shelves. “Milk, eggs, butter.”
I grabbed a carton of eggs, flipping it open to check for cracks. Next to me, Niall stood quietly, watching but not interfering—like he trusted me to know what I was doing.
“Wait, what kind of milk do you drink?” I asked, glancing at him.
“The regular kind.”
I squinted. “You have to be more specific. Whole milk? Two percent? Almond?”
His brows pulled together. “Why would I drink almond milk?”
I smothered a grin. “Some people are particular about their milk. Oat milk, cashew milk, coconut?—”
“I just drink milk, Eli.”
His tone was flat, but I caught the way his lips twitched, almost like he was trying not to be amused.
“Boring. But fine, whole milk it is.” I tossed it in the cart, along with the butter.
Niall let out a long-suffering sigh. “Of course we are.”
At the baking aisle, I scanned the shelves, my fingers brushing over the labels. “Flour, sugar, baking powder… do you have vanilla extract at home?” I asked, not looking up.
His silence was answer enough.
I grabbed a bottle and tossed it into the cart, the plastic clinking against the other items. “All right, what’s left?”
He glanced over the cart, his focus momentarily drifting to the items already in it. “Coffee. Some cereal.”
I nodded and turned, ready to move on, but Niall didn’t follow right away. Instead, I caught the briefest flicker of his gaze on my hands. I flexed my fingers. Oh god, what’s with this place?
“You’re freezing,” he muttered, his voice a little lower than usual.
“I’m fine,” I said, brushing it off, though I wasn’t sure I fully believed it.
He shot me a skeptical look, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. No argument from him. I could practically feel his hesitation, but he didn’t press.
I continued down the aisle and then the next, grabbing a bottle of hot sauce and dropping it into the cart with a thud.
Niall didn’t even try to hide the surprise on his face as he glanced at the bottle. “That’s… um…” His words trailed off.
“You can’t have breakfast potatoes without hot sauce,” I said. It seemed like an obvious truth, but Niall? He didn’t seem so convinced.
I turned to him, glancing sideways, letting my gaze linger just a second longer than I should. Then a thought struck me. “Wait… tell me you actually season your eggs.”
He didn’t even blink. “Salt. Pepper.”
I blinked in disbelief. “That’s it?”
“What else is there?” he said, like it was the most basic, unarguable fact in the world.
I let out an exaggerated gasp, like I’d just witnessed a crime. “That’s all ?”
His expression remained unchanged. “Yeah.”
“No garlic powder? No paprika?” I continued, holding up my hand in a dramatic flourish. “Maybe a little cayenne pepper for some heat?”
“I don’t need my eggs to burn my taste buds off,” he said, deadpan, like he was explaining the concept of gravity. He was entirely unbothered.
I rolled my eyes, but as I shifted my attention to the next aisle, I caught the faintest look in his eyes—a little flicker that wasn’t quite amusement, but something . It was like he was... I don’t know… interested? Or at least mildly entertained by my absurdity.
Before I could dwell on that too long, my mind latched onto something else. I paused in my tracks, the sudden realization hitting me like a brick.
Wait— I didn’t get the chilies.
I turned abruptly. “Forgot something in the produce section,” I said, heading back the way we came from.
Niall’s footsteps faltered behind me, and I could practically hear the sigh forming in his chest. “Back to the produce? We already grabbed?—”
“You didn’t think I’d let you get away with those bland eggs forever, did you?” I tossed the words over my shoulder but kept my pace steady. My heart was already in the right place: chilies. I had to get them. Niall would thank me later.
As we approached the produce section again, I scanned for the chili peppers. It didn’t take long—they were nestled in a small display near the fresh herbs and other hot peppers, their bright red skins practically daring me to grab them. I plucked a small bag, not even bothering to look back at Niall as I dropped them into the cart with a satisfied thunk.
“There,” I said, my voice light with victory. “For your eggs. Time to expand your horizons.”
I could feel Niall’s gaze on me, and when I risked a glance, I caught the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t full-on amusement, but it was something close. The barest hint of a smile, but I’d take it.
“I bet you’ll thank me later,” I added, my voice just a little too smug.
Niall just shrugged. It felt like I was winning him over in some small way, and that thought made me smile to myself.
“So,” I continued, pushing the cart forward as we moved deeper into the produce section. “You’re committed to making your eggs taste like cardboard?”
His response came dry, a little begrudging, like he knew he was playing into my hands. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you try them. Then you’ll see how good my eggs taste.”
I leaned in slightly, pretending to be intimidated, but my grin was wide. “Is that a challenge, Niall?”
He didn’t answer right away, but that almost smile was still there, lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, it is.”
Yes! I did a fist pump in my head.
Maybe I had to work on his egg seasoning skills, but if I could make him crack a smile? That was progress in my book.
We moved through the store, grabbing cereal, bread, and coffee. I flexed my fingers, trying to ignore the way they felt stiff again. It wasn’t just my hands—cold had settled deep, working its way up my arms, lingering beneath my clothes like it had no intention of leaving.
Michigan was no joke. Back home, I never had to think about the temperature inside a grocery store. Yeah, the aisles with the fridges were a little cool, but nothing I paid attention to. Here? A whole different story. The cold clung like the air itself had teeth.
I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, curling my fingers tight, but it didn’t do much. The chill had settled deep, burrowing under my skin.
Beside me, Niall shifted. A slight pause, like he was considering something. Then, without a word, he moved.
The weight landed first—a solid, heavy warmth draping over my shoulders, the fabric thick enough to block out the cold in an instant. It swallowed me whole, the sleeves hanging past my elbows, and the body of it too big.
I stood there, frozen.
Niall’s jacket.
His scent hit next—clean and fresh, with something sharp and woodsy underneath. Faint traces of the cold still clung to the fabric, but beneath that, it radiated heat; like it had soaked up every bit of his warmth before finding its way onto me.
A hitch in my breath. A slight jolt in my chest, like my body registered his proximity before my brain could catch up.
Slowly, I glanced up at him.
“What—?”
“Put your arms in.” His voice was gruff, like this was just another task to check off the list.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “You keep it. We’re almost done, and your car is warm, right?”
He gave me a look. “Eli.”
“It’s not that bad.”
He didn’t answer. Just grabbed my wrist, firm but not rough, and pushed my arm toward the sleeve like I was being ridiculous.
A shiver ran up my spine—definitely not from the cold.
I huffed. “Niall?—”
“Put it on.”
It wasn’t a request.
I hesitated for half a second, but my body had already betrayed me, leaning slightly toward the warmth. With a sigh, I slid my arms through. The jacket swallowed me, sleeves falling past my hands, shoulders too broad. But damn, it was warm.
“Happy now?”
Ignoring my sarcasm, he adjusted the collar, his fingers brushing my neck for the briefest second. A spark—quick, startling, like a static shock, but deeper.
“That’s better?”
My throat went dry.
I swallowed. Nodded. “Yeah.”
For a second, he didn’t move. His fingers lingered, the warmth of them pressing through the fabric like he wasn’t quite ready to step away. Then—so light I almost wasn’t sure it happened—he gave my shoulders a slight squeeze.
I blinked. Had I imagined that?
No. That was definitely a squeeze.
As if catching himself, he cleared his throat and turned back to the cart like nothing had happened.
“All right. What’s next?” Niall spoke like giving me his jacket meant nothing. Like it hadn’t just completely wrecked my equilibrium.
I exhaled slowly, ignoring the way my heart tripped over itself in my chest.
Maybe this was nothing. Just him being practical.
Or maybe I was in serious trouble.
Damn it.