21. Then
TWENTY-ONE
then
With loose limbs and a truckload of post-orgasm endorphins flooding my system, I felt stoned as I led Ella out of the gallery’s back exit.
Ellie .
The name came to me in a moment of near-insanity, but I liked it. It suited her. And I loved the way she called me Gray; it seemed only fair that I had a similar claim on her.
In my stupor, the bright streetlights at the mouth of the alley looked like hazy halos. I steered us to the main street as purposefully as I could, given my fuzzy head and weak knees. When we cleared the second corner, I reached back for her hand.
But she wasn’t there.
Before panic could spiral down through my center, I spotted her. She lingered about twenty yards behind me, eyes squeezed shut, propped up against a building.
Shit .
“Sorry. I’m fine,” she lied when I was close enough to hear her. “I just…need a minute.”
My body felt so tied to hers that I could sense the anxiety radiating out of her. Instinctually, I braced my arms on either side of her shaking shoulders, shielding her from the autumn wind and any passersby.
“Hey,” I murmured. “What’s wrong? Is it… what we just did?”
My stomach sank at the thought of her hating what was going to go down as the single hottest memory I possessed. I tried not to look wounded while she blinked up at me.
“ No ,” she promised fervently. “That was… amazing. And I want to do it again. But I sort of freaked out when we had to rush out like that, and I’m just trying to calm down so I can figure out why it upset me.”
It still didn’t make sense to me, but at least she tried to explain. And she hadn’t fled. Yet.
Part of me wanted to comfort her, but another part worried she’d disappear if I didn’t keep her close. I slid my arms down to hug her.
“Can I hold you while you figure it out?” I asked. “You’re a runner—you have priors.”
She giggled weakly, nestling her face against the base of my throat. A second later, she relaxed and pulled back to look at me. “Huh.”
Her perplexed expression was adorable. I bit back a smile. “What? ”
Color rose to her cheeks. “I think that was it,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her feet. “I just needed you to hold me.”
That thought echoed through me until it sunk in. My entire world shifted on its axis.
This beautiful, funny, bright girl wanted me to hold her. And she felt bad about it.
Looking into her eyes, it was clear she was embarrassed to need anything from me. Regret and tenderness vied for space inside my chest, crowding around my lungs.
I tugged her back into me and buried my face against her hair. “I want to hold you,” I confessed.
She softened in my arms, sighing. “I’m sorry if I’m being needy.”
Maybe she was. I couldn’t tell anymore. Because, with her, the word lost all negative connotations. The thought of Ella needing me sounded like heaven.
A second later, her stomach rumbled and I realized I never fed her dinner. “How about I hold you in a cab and we go eat something?”
She grinned up at me. “Can ‘something’ be ice cream? I like eating dessert for dinner with you.”
The mysterious feeling I had no name for flooded through me. Bliss and awe and fear woven into one undeniable fact: I would’ve done anything for her.