27. Eli
CHAPTER 27
ELI
Steam curled up from the pan as I switched off the stove, the scent of garlic and herbs filling the kitchen. The pasta sauce had thickened just right, and I set the spoon aside, satisfied.
The front door clicked open. I glanced over my shoulder just as Niall stepped inside, pausing in the doorway like he needed a second to shake off the outside world. His gaze landed on me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, and then he crossed the space between us in a few quick strides.
Before I could say anything, strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me flush against a solid chest. Niall buried his face in the curve of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. He smelled like the rink—cold air, a hint of sweat, and something distinctly him, something I’d come to associate with comfort.
My heart stuttered.
I smiled, resting my hands over his forearms. “Hey, you.”
He didn’t answer, just exhaled against my skin, his grip tightening for a beat before loosening slightly. That’s when I knew something was wrong. We’d only been boyfriends for a short time, but one thing I’d noticed was that Niall wasn’t usually this openly affectionate, not without some teasing or an adorably grumbled complaint about how I always smelled like vanilla or coffee or whatever he secretly loved.
I turned in his arms, hands sliding up to cup his face. “Niall?”
He let me, but he didn’t meet my eyes.
A knot of worry tightened in my chest. “Talk to me.”
He shook his head, looking anywhere but at me. “It’s nothing.”
I huffed. “Bullshit.”
That got a small, humorless smirk out of him, but it was gone in a blink. I didn’t let him pull away. Instead, I laced our fingers together and tugged him toward the couch. He let me without grumbling. Another sign that whatever was going on in his head was weighing him down.
I straddled his lap the second he sat and braced my hands on his shoulders. “I know something’s up.”
Niall sighed, his hands coming to rest on my waist. “Eli?—”
I arched a brow. “You know I’m not gonna let this go, right?”
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Yeah. I know.”
Silence stretched between us, but I waited. Letting him take his time. Finally, he exhaled sharply and leaned back, dragging a hand down his face.
“Got my Stats results back today,” he admitted, voice low. “Barely passed.”
My stomach clenched. “Niall?—”
“I know. I know. I should’ve done better,” he muttered, looking past me. “I just—I tried. I really did. But it’s like my brain just…shuts down. Like I can’t hold on to any of it.”
I squeezed his hands. “That doesn’t mean you’re not trying hard enough.”
He finally met my eyes, something raw and vulnerable in his gaze. “Last semester was a disaster. I flunked Stats, Marketing Principles, and barely scraped by in Accounting. If it weren’t for Dr. Matthews—my therapist—I wouldn’t even be here. She pulled strings, made calls, got me this apartment, and gave me a shot at salvaging my GPA while on academic probation.”
My chest ached. “Niall…”
He swallowed, rubbing a hand over his chest. “After my parents died, I threw myself into hockey. It was the only thing that made sense. The only thing I could control. But last year…” He shook his head. “I burned out. It hit me all at once, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I got injured, I was exhausted, and suddenly, I couldn’t keep everything together anymore. My grades tanked, and it was like…everything I ignored for years finally caught up with me.”
His voice was steady, but I could see the cracks underneath, the weight of everything he probably never let himself say out loud. My throat tightened.
I cupped his face, thumbs brushing against the sharp edges of his jaw. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore, you know.”
He let out a breath, closing his eyes for a second before looking at me again. “I know.”
And I felt like he actually believed it. But I also knew belief didn’t erase years of habit.
I ran my fingers through his hair, soft and a little damp from the shower he must have taken after practice. “You always think you have to carry everything yourself.”
His lips parted like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He just exhaled, dropping his forehead to mine. “It’s not like people haven’t tried to help. I just…” His hands curled into the fabric of my hoodie like he needed something to hold on to. “I didn’t know how to let them.”
God, I wanted to take his pain and carry it for him. But that wasn’t how this worked.
“Well,” I murmured, running my fingers along the nape of his neck, “you’re gonna have to get used to it. Because I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, but when he lifted his head, there was something so open in his expression that it made my chest ache all over again. “You’re really something else, you know that?”
“Obviously.” I grinned, but my voice was softer than usual because he was looking at me like I was something steady, something real. And maybe that wasn’t something he’d had in a long time.
A beat of silence passed between us, and then he exhaled again, slower this time. “I hated feeling like I was failing.”
“You weren’t failing, Niall.”
He gave me a look, like seriously?
I sighed, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze fully. “Okay, maybe your grades were. But that wasn’t because you weren’t capable. You were dealing with so much, and you never let yourself breathe.”
His throat bobbed. “Yeah.”
“I know what it’s like to pretend you’re fine just so no one worries.” My voice was quieter now. “To tell yourself you’ve got it handled even when it’s all crumbling.”
Niall’s fingers brushed against my side, just barely. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “But you don’t have to do that with me.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I have a handle on Marketing Principles now. Getting that A in our group project with you and Asher was a good thing. Maybe I can turn things around.”
I grinned. “You will turn things around. And guess what?”
He raised a brow. “What?”
“I took Stats. And I’m officially offering my services as your personal tutor.”
His expression softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But first—” I poked his chest. “I’m feeding my boyfriend.”
His grip on my waist tightened, his lips curling into something warm and adoring. “Boyfriend, huh?”
I blinked, heat creeping up my neck. “I mean—unless you changed your?—”
Niall’s hands slid up my back, pulling me closer until our foreheads touched. His voice dropped to a murmur, soft and sure. “I’ll never stop loving the way that sounds.”
My heart flipped.
Then, because my brain short-circuited from how unfairly hot and sweet he was, I blurted, “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”
His laugh rumbled between us, and just like that, the tension in his shoulders eased. He pressed a kiss to my temple, then another just below my ear, making me shiver.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, holding me like he never wanted to let go. “I think I’m okay with that.”
Another long beat of silence. Then his grip on my hoodie loosened, just a little, like some invisible weight had shifted.
I kissed the corner of his mouth, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
His expression softened again. “Thanks, Eli.”
“For the food?” I teased.
“For you.”
And just like that, my heart didn’t stand a chance.