29. Eli
CHAPTER 29
ELI
Warm lamplight spilled over the pages of my textbook as I sat cross-legged on my bed, highlighter poised but utterly useless in my hand. I should’ve been reading.
I wasn’t.
Instead, I watched my boyfriend across the room, hunched over my desk, completely absorbed in his Stats notes, the steady scratch of his pen the only sound between us. The soft glow of my desk lamp caught on the sharp angles of his face. His jaw was tight in focus, brows furrowed in that way that made him look both intimidating and unfairly attractive.
He’d been putting in the work, and it showed. Stats hadn’t come easy to him, but he never half-assed anything. Watching him now—determined, disciplined, completely locked in—I felt a quiet swell of pride.
But he’d been at it for two hours, and even the most stubborn hockey captain deserved a break.
I tapped my phone screen, bringing up the flyer I’d pulled up earlier. “We should go.”
Niall barely looked up. “Go where?”
“The Fall Festival. It’s tonight.”
He shook his head before I even finished. “Pass.”
I sighed, rolling onto my stomach, propping my chin in my hand. “Why am I not surprised?”
He shrugged, still scribbling notes in the margins of his textbook. “Not my thing.”
Of course it wasn’t. Niall wasn’t exactly Mr. Festive. If it wasn’t hockey or something essential to his routine, it didn’t make the cut. But I wasn’t giving up that easily.
I got off the bed and crossed the room, perching on the edge of the desk beside him. “Come on. There’s cider, pumpkin carving, a hayride?—”
“A nightmare,” he muttered, still not looking at me.
I grinned, bumping his shoulder. “It’ll be fun.”
He finally looked up, eyes narrowing slightly, like he was weighing his options. “Will it, though?”
“Yes. And if you hate it, I’ll make it up to you.” My fingers trailed lightly over his wrist. “Think of it as a date.”
His gaze flickered to my hand, then back to my face. Something shifted in his expression—resignation, amusement, maybe a little fondness buried beneath the exasperation. He sighed like I’d just asked him to run suicides at practice.
“Fine. But if I get stuck on some hayride from hell, you owe me.”
I grinned. “Deal.”
Main Street was alive with golden lights and the hum of laughter. The town square had transformed into a patchwork of food stalls, game booths, and pumpkin displays, the scent of cinnamon and roasting nuts thick in the air. Students and locals mingled, their scarves and beanies adding splashes of color to the cool October night.
Niall stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, his shoulders slightly hunched. “This is… a lot.”
“Good ‘ a lot ’ or bad ‘ a lot ’?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, but his gaze lingered on a caramel apple stand for longer than necessary. Noted.
Before I could tease him about it, a familiar voice cut through the crowd.
“Well, well, didn’t think we’d see you here.”
We turned to find Hunter, Roman, and Micah heading toward us, all three holding cups of cider. Hunter’s brows lifted slightly, like he was surprised to see Niall in a place like this. Roman just grinned. And Micah tilted his head as he gave Niall a slow once-over.
“Thought festivals weren’t your thing, Cap,” Micah said, smirking.
“They’re not,” Niall muttered.
Roman chuckled. “And yet, here you are. Interesting.” His gaze flicked to me, then back to Niall, like he was putting together a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit yet.
Hunter didn’t say much, but his expression was unreadable—like he was still holding onto something from that night at the rink. I wondered if Niall was thinking about that too.
I snuck a glance at him. His expression was carefully blank, but the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hands stayed buried deep in his hoodie pocket, told me enough.
I nudged him lightly, pulling his focus back. “We were just about to check out the pumpkin carving booth,” I said, keeping my tone easy. “You guys coming?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
Micah scoffed. “Please. My artistic skills are far too valuable to be wasted on a vegetable.”
Roman grinned. “That sounds like code for ‘ I’m terrible at it .’”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourselves,” I said, grabbing Niall’s sleeve before he could overthink it. “Come on.”
We wove through the crowd, the laughter and chatter fading slightly as we reached the booth. A row of long tables was set up, pumpkins of all sizes stacked in crates beside them. A student volunteer handed us carving tools and markers.
I rolled up my sleeves, giving Niall a pointed look. “Just so you know, I take this very seriously. Prepare to be humbled.”
Niall snorted. “It’s a pumpkin, not an art class.”
“Sounds like something a loser would say.”
He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering across his face. “Oh, it’s like that?” Niall had definitely relaxed since the brief encounter with his teammates.
We each grabbed a pumpkin and settled at one of the tables, the chill of the night air softened by the golden glow of festival lights strung overhead. Around us, students laughed and compared designs, the scent of roasted nuts and cider hanging thick in the air.
Niall’s first attempt at a face ended with one lopsided eye and a jagged gash that looked more like a crime scene than a mouth. He sat back, scowling at it like it had personally wronged him.
“This is a terrible way to spend a Friday night,” he muttered.
I grinned. “No, this is your lack of skill.”
He huffed, dragging a hand through his hair—frustrated, stubborn, and completely oblivious to how adorable he looked. My fingers itched to reach for him, to smooth my palm over the crease in his brow or steal a kiss from the curve of his frown. But I couldn’t. Not here. Not now.
So instead, I focused on my own pumpkin, carefully etching the details of a classic jack-o’-lantern grin, while Niall…well, massacred his. Every so often, I caught him sneaking glances at my work, his expression unreadable.
“Need help?” I teased, flicking my gaze to him.
“Absolutely not.”
Despite his protests, I ended up fixing his mess of a pumpkin, my hands brushing his as I guided the carving tool over the rough surface. His fingers twitched but didn’t pull away. For a second, I let myself pretend we were just another couple at the festival, carving pumpkins together, no different from the pairs who were stealing kisses between sips of cider.
When we finally lined them up for judging, Niall squinted at his, tilting his head like maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as bad as he thought.
“At least mine has personality,” he said, and even though he tried to sound gruff, the corner of his mouth twitched.
And I wanted to kiss him for real.
After grabbing cider and watching a few rounds of the ring toss, we made our way to the Ferris wheel. The line wasn’t too long, just a handful of couples and friends ahead of us.
When it was our turn, we climbed into the worn metal seat, the bar clicking into place over our laps. The ride lurched to life, lifting us off the ground in a slow, steady ascent. Below, the fair glowed in bursts of orange and gold, string lights twinkling from vendor tents.
Niall shifted beside me, adjusting his grip on the bar like he wasn’t sure if he trusted it.
I smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”
He shot me a flat look. “I’m not.”
“Then why are you holding on like this thing’s about to drop us?”
“I just don’t like being stuck in places I can’t get out of.”
I grinned. “You’re stuck with me all the time.”
“That’s different,” he muttered, but there was the ghost of a smile there, hiding in the corner of his mouth. “I want to be stuck with you.”
The Ferris wheel lifted us higher, the sounds of the fair growing softer beneath us. The wind picked up, ruffling my hair, making the cart sway slightly.
“You know,” I said, bumping my knee against Niall’s, “if we got stuck up here, you’d be the first one to freak out.”
He gave me a look, unimpressed. “I don’t freak out.”
I hummed like I wasn’t convinced. “Mm. I feel like you’d sit there all stiff and broody, pretending you were fine while secretly calculating how long it would take for search and rescue to find us.”
Niall scoffed, shifting like he was already over this conversation. “I wouldn’t.”
I grinned. “No? So if I started rocking the car right now?—”
His head snapped toward me. “Eli.” He caught my wrist before I could even think about doing it. “Don’t.”
The way his hand wrapped around mine, firm and warm, sent a spark through my chest. I wanted to grab him by the jacket, pull him in, and steal a real kiss.
I bit back a laugh at how quickly he’d tensed. “Relax, tough guy. I wouldn’t actually do it.”
His fingers lingered for half a second before he let go, shaking his head like I was impossible. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I prefer ‘ charming .’”
Niall didn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. I took that as a win.
I glanced at my boyfriend, who had relaxed again, his gaze set on the view below. His hands rested lightly on the safety bar now, no longer gripping it like he might need to make a quick escape.
And then the moment settled, the teasing fading as the Ferris wheel climbed even higher, the town stretching out around us in all directions. For a while, we just sat there, taking it in. The blinking streetlights. The dark silhouettes of houses in the distance. The sloping hills beyond the town, disappearing into the horizon.
It felt like we were on top of the world.
And maybe that was why I asked.
“Would you ever tell people about us?”
Niall didn’t tense the way I expected him to, but his grip on the bar shifted, his knuckles pressing against the cool metal. His gaze stayed on the skyline, on the vast open space beyond the town.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” I kept my tone easy, like it was just another joke between us. But my chest felt tight, and I hated the way my own words tasted like something fragile.
The pause stretched a little too long. Then finally, he said, “I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”
The wind felt colder suddenly. The weight on my chest became heavier.
“Right,” I said, forcing a small nod, like that was the answer I’d expected.
He must’ve caught something in my voice, because he finally turned to look at me. There was something softer in his expression now, something almost apologetic. “I mean, it’s not like I?—”
The Ferris wheel jerked slightly, slowing as the ride operator called out for the next round of passengers. The motion swallowed whatever Niall had been about to say, and the moment slipped away as if it had never been there at all.
I forced a smile. “It’s fine.”
Niall studied me for a second, like he wanted to say something else, but then he just sighed and reached for my hand, squeezing lightly. “You still won the pumpkin contest.”
I huffed a small laugh. “Damn right I did.”
The ride gave another lurch, then carried us to the very top, pausing there for just a beat. The town stretched beneath us, tiny and far away, but all I could focus on was the warmth of him beside me, the way his breath hitched slightly as he glanced at my mouth.
And then, before I could second-guess it, before I could let myself linger on the weight of his answer, I leaned in.
Niall met me halfway.
The kiss wasn’t long, wasn’t deep, but it was enough. Enough to make my heart stutter. Enough to make me wish we weren’t sitting in a rickety Ferris wheel car, and my boyfriend was ready to acknowledge me as his out in the open.
And enough to let me believe, even for just a second, that maybe he’d get there someday.
The ride started moving again, carrying us back down. I leaned back in the seat, letting the conversation slip away. For now.
But as the ground grew closer, unease curled at the edges of my mind, a whisper of something I wasn’t ready to hear.
And later, when everything started to fall apart, I’d think back to this night.
To the way I’d let myself believe.
To how I never saw it coming.