20. Eli
CHAPTER 20
ELI
Steam curled around me, clinging to my skin as I braced my hands against the cool tile of the shower wall. Water pounded against my back, but it did nothing to drown out the pounding in my chest.
I kissed him.
No, he kissed me.
I exhaled hard, pressing my forehead against the tile. What the hell just happened? My lips still tingled, a phantom echo of Niall’s mouth on mine, and I hated how I could still feel it. Still taste him. Like I’d somehow inhaled him into my bloodstream, and now I couldn’t get him out.
It was just a kiss. That’s what I told myself, but it wasn’t true. There had been weight behind it, something that hummed beneath my skin, something that made my stomach twist because I wasn’t sure what it meant. And I couldn’t afford to let myself get swept up in something if it wasn’t real.
I shut off the water and grabbed a towel, roughly drying off before stepping into my room. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A reminder to call home.
Perfect timing.
Heart still unsettled, I sat on the bed and hit the video call button. It rang twice before my mom’s face filled the screen.
“Elijah,” she said, eyes narrowing immediately. “What’s wrong?”
I forced a smile. “Hi, Mom.”
My dad leaned into the frame, concern etched into his features. “You look tired, son. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I plastered on the brightest grin I could manage. “How was the cruise? You guys still living the high life?”
Mom didn’t look convinced, but Dad sighed, letting me have the deflection. “The Mediterranean was great. We stopped in Santorini for a few days. Your mother wouldn’t stop taking pictures of the blue rooftops.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “As if you weren’t right there beside me, snapping twice as many.”
My smile turned more real as they launched into their stories—laughing about the food, the people, and the overpriced souvenirs. It was easy to let them talk, to listen to them be their usual selves—vibrant, in love with life. And I wanted them to stay that way.
Because the last thing I wanted was to give them more to worry about.
After everything. Dad’s mild heart attack last year. The disaster that was my ex. They deserved peace. And I refused to be the reason they lost sleep.
“So,” Mom said after a pause, giving me that look only mothers could master. “How’s Michigan treating you? Made any friends?”
I swallowed hard, pushing away the memory of Niall’s lips on mine. “Yeah, I have.” I lifted my shoulders, keeping my tone light. “Nothing crazy to report. Asher and Gigi have been great. Asher does beautiful art, and Gigi’s his sidekick and basically the queen of campus. She knows everyone. They kind of adopted me, made sure I wasn’t completely out of my depth at a new school. ” I huffed a laugh. “Gigi even dragged me to get a mani-pedi last weekend. You’d like her, Mom—she’s nosy as hell.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed, but her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. “I like her already.”
Dad nodded. “Good. I’m glad you’ve got people looking out for you.”
I forced myself to relax a little, glad I’d given them something real to hold on to. They didn’t need to know how much I felt like I was still figuring things out.
“I swear I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Really. Classes are solid, everything’s cool.”
Mom still didn’t look convinced, but Dad squeezed her shoulder. “You know where we are if you need us, right?”
I nodded, guilt tugging at my chest. “Yeah. Always.”
After a few more minutes, I ended the call, staring at my phone like it might short-circuit from all the half-truths I’d just fed my parents.
I needed to talk to my sister.
I dialed her number.
It rang once before the call dropped. My stomach twisted for a second until a text popped up immediately after.
Little Big Sis: Give me ten. Just leaving the library.
I exhaled, gripping the phone.
True to her word, ten minutes later, my sister’s face filled the screen. She was in her dorm, dark curls piled high, a knowing smirk already in place. “Okay, spill.”
I blinked. “What?—”
“Don’t play with me, Eli. That’s your ‘ I did something and don’t know how to feel about it ’ face.” She tilted her head. “And judging by the way you’re avoiding eye contact, it’s relationship trouble.”
I groaned. “Can you at least pretend not to be psychic?”
She grinned. “Nope. Now talk.”
I hesitated, fingers tapping against my comforter. “It’s… complicated.”
Cheyenne snorted. “It always is.”
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “I kissed my roommate.”
Her brows lifted. “And?”
“And it wasn’t nothing.” The words felt heavy saying them out loud. “But I don’t know what it was, either.”
Cheyenne studied me for a beat. “Do you want it to be something?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. “I don’t know.”
She nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Okay. What’s stopping you?”
I swallowed. “I just got out of a toxic relationship, Chey. The last thing I need is to get caught up in something that could potentially not be worth the effort.”
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Do you think he’d hurt you?”
“No.” The answer came too fast, certain. I trusted Niall. Even when he was grumpy and closed off, he wasn’t cruel. At least, I didn’t think so.
“Then what are you scared of?”
I hesitated. “I don’t want to be an experiment.”
Cheyenne’s face softened. “Did he say that’s what this was?”
“No,” I admitted. “But he’s never—he’s never done this before. Never been with a guy… I think.”
She nodded. “So you’re afraid he’ll freak out, push you away?”
I exhaled. “Yeah.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
That was the real question, wasn’t it? If Niall didn’t push me away—if this was real—was I ready for that?
She let me sit with that for a second before speaking again. “I can’t tell you what to do, Eli. But I know you. You’re careful with your heart. You don’t hand it out to just anyone.” She gave me a small smile. “If you think he’s worth it, maybe it’s okay to take a chance.”
I stared at the screen, at my sister, who always knew exactly what to say. My heart still felt tangled, but some of the knots had loosened.
“Thanks, Chey.”
She winked. “Anytime, bro.”
As I ended the call, I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts were still a mess, my heart still unsteady. But for the first time since that kiss, I felt like I could breathe.
* * *
Hunger hit out of nowhere, a low, persistent gnawing in my stomach that made me realize I hadn’t eaten since lunch. It figured. Between classes, coming home, getting invited into Niall’s room, and then—yeah. That happened. Afterward, I’d come straight in here and spiraled for an hour before calling home. No wonder I was starving.
I blew out a breath and pushed off the bed. Staying in here wouldn’t magically make food appear, and I refused to let whatever was going on between me and Niall dictate my basic needs. If he was out there, I’d deal with it. I had to eat.
The kitchen was quiet when I stepped in; the lights dim, except for the glow from the stovetop. I grabbed ingredients from the fridge, settling on something easy—chicken and rice, with some sautéed veggies on the side. Simple, comforting, something I could focus on.
Cooking had always grounded me. There was something methodical about it, the way each step built on the last. I minced fresh garlic and ginger, the sharp scent clinging to my fingertips as I worked. A squeeze of lime, a drizzle of olive oil—enough to help the seasonings stick. I sprinkled in some salt, cracked black pepper, smoked paprika, a dash of cumin for warmth, and a little cayenne for heat. Then I added a spoonful of honey, rubbing everything in until the chicken glistened, deep and fragrant. When it hit the pan, the sizzle filled the kitchen, rich and savory. As it browned, I turned my attention to the vegetables. The rhythmic scrape of my knife against the cutting board, the soft pop of oil, the steam rising from the rice cooker—it was a kind of quiet I could handle.
I was about to plate my food when the front door opened. Heavy footsteps, followed by the faint rustle of a bag being set down. I turned just as Niall walked in.
God, he looked so fucking good. Freshly showered, with damp strands of hair curling at his temples. He wore a hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and sweats that hung low on his hips. His face was unreadable, but there was something about the way he carried himself—more reserved than usual, a little stiff around the shoulders.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low.
I swallowed. “Hey,” I said, suddenly unsure of what to say. Silence settled between us, thick and awkward. I turned back to my food, scooping rice onto a plate. Then, before I could think better of it, I blurted, “You hungry?”
Niall hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say yes. “I could eat.”
I nodded and grabbed another plate, dishing out a portion for him. “You were at practice?”
“Yeah.” He took a seat at the counter, watching me finish plating. “We have a road game this weekend. Leaving in the morning.”
That caught me off guard. “Oh. Where to?”
“Colorado. Two games—Friday and Saturday. We’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”
I set his plate in front of him, then grabbed mine. “Guess that makes sense. If the other teams travel for games, you guys would have to do the same.”
“Yeah,” Niall said, poking at his food with his fork before taking a bite.
I watched him for a moment, the silence hanging between us. It wasn’t like he was going away forever, but the thought of him being gone for a few days made something twist in my chest. Maybe because we hadn’t talked about what happened. Maybe because I had no idea where we stood.
He took another bite, and I couldn’t resist. “So, what do you think?”
Niall raised an eyebrow, looking at his plate before meeting my eyes. “It’s good. Better than stuff you’ve made before.”
I grinned. “Better, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice dry. “What is it?”
“Garlic-Honey-Lime Pan-Seared Chicken.”
He smirked, the corners of his lips twitching in what might have been the start of a smile, though his expression quickly went back to its usual guarded state. “Not bad.”
I basked in the compliment, even if it came with that adorably grumpy edge of his. It was something.
“So,” I said, trying to keep things light, “Colorado, huh? That sounds like a pretty big deal.”
“It’s just another game.” He took a sip of water, still not looking at me. “We’ve got both home and away games, so yeah, we travel a bit.”
I nodded, pretending to focus on my food, though my stomach felt heavy. “Right.” I swallowed, trying to hide how crestfallen I felt. It wasn’t like he was leaving forever, but it still stung.
“You okay?” Niall asked, his voice softer than usual.
I looked up at him, blinking. “Yeah, just… didn’t realize you guys were on the road so much.”
He nodded, his gaze unreadable. “Yeah, it’s part of the deal.”
I nodded too, but my chest felt tight. Niall wasn’t looking at me anymore, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. There was still so much unsaid between us.
I pushed my food around with my fork, pretending not to notice the way my stomach twisted with each passing second.
I forced a small smile. “Guess I’ll have the apartment to myself for a bit.”
Niall grunted, focused on his food. He wasn’t looking at me, wasn’t bringing up the kiss. And the longer the silence stretched, the more doubt crept in. Was he pretending it hadn’t happened? Did he regret it? Was I just?—
No. I shook off the thought, gripping my fork a little tighter. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to let myself be someone’s experiment, wasn’t going to let myself fall into another situation where I cared more than the other person did. I’d been down that road before, and I wasn’t about to do it again.
But as I stole a glance at Niall, at the way his jaw worked like he was chewing on something more than just food, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was just avoiding talking about the kiss, or was he as caught up in this potential thing between as I was?