Chapter 24
Hazel
All I wanted was to be home and in my bed. But with the attention my post had gotten over the past day and a half, I didn’t want people to feel like I was hiding. It was probably a ridiculous thing to do, especially since the snow was accumulating quickly outside.
At least the storm had convinced most of the crowd to stay home.
Not me, though. It was leaning toward foolish for me to be out and about with road conditions worsening.
I hadn’t been to Benji’s since the auction. It might have been the half-filled space, or just my general state of missing Elijah, but I couldn’t stop being nostalgic. That was where we swayed—but did not dance—to the music. That booth was where we made out like we were the only two people in the world. That patio was where he told me he wanted to hold my hand and get to know me—to see how we worked together. My nostalgia was turning morose as I just… missed him.
It had felt right to acknowledge his goodness publicly, especially since people so often referred to him as bad news.
It felt right when most everything else felt wrong.
Lifting my drink to my lips, I tried to breathe through the tight squeeze in my chest. Would thinking about him ever stop hurting? It didn’t feel like time was doing me any favors.
Nora shot me a concerned look from where she was flirting with a ski tourist at the bar. I waved her off. It had been enough of a struggle to convince her not to hover.
The front door opened and closed. A gust of cold wind swept in. It brushed through the hairs at the nape of my neck. I shivered. I welcomed it. It made me feel like I was present when I’d been feeling absent.
I stared into the middle distance. I planned to finish this hot toddy and then head home. But Nora straightened and looked behind me with her eyes wide, giving me an unsettled apprehension. With my eyebrows drawn together, I followed her gaze.
A man I’d never seen before pushed back the hood of his huge bright red coat. From his boots to his head, he looked fortified to scale Mount Everest. He was far too prepared, instantly marking him as an outta towner. His friend was more appropriately clothed.
Pressure crushed my chest, and I sucked in a quick breath.
Elijah licked his lower lip, then bit down on it. His green eyes met mine.
And that right feeling fit back into place.
It was as if all the lights had been dimmed, but when he entered the room, they illuminated to their full potential. Shining light into the dark spaces of my heart and putting all the lurking shadows to rest.
I instantly distrusted it. I’d felt this before, and it’d opened me to a hurt too deep. It was terrible to know he was the cause of my pain, and to still want him.
Muscles flexed in his throat as he swallowed.
His friend’s attention flicked from me to Elijah, before taking confident strides to the bar.
There were half the number of patrons than usual, but every single one watched us. Their gazes pricked at my skin. I wanted to shrink under the table and hide, but instead, I sat up straighter in the booth.
“Hi.” Elijah’s voice skimmed over me, pitched low and tentative. Even on just that word, a single syllable that was more breath than language, it lit parts of my brain that had been quiet for the past couple of weeks.
“Hi,” I responded, to my surprise. I hadn’t realized I was currently verbal.
“Can I join you?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, considering all my options for a brief moment before nodding.
He unzipped his coat, it was warm and practical, but hinted at his athletic figure below. I resented him for making winter attire look sexy. I looked like a human-shaped trash bag in my winter coat.
He tossed it into the booth before sitting across from me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
I remembered last time when he’d told me, The woman I like is here, so I’m here. I remembered the thrill it’d sent through my body. Was he remembering it, too?
“I saw your post.” He searched my face, but I couldn’t tell if he found what he was looking for there.
“Did you come so I could thank you in person?”
One corner of his lips quirked upward. “No. I came to say sorry.”
“About?”
He pulled at the cuffs of his baby blue button-up shirt. After crossing his arms on the table, he tugged at his shirt again. His hand scraped over his beard, but not before I caught his grimace. “I don’t know if there’s a big enough apology for what I need to apologize for. I had a four-hour drive here to think about what to say, and I still don’t know where to start.”
I lifted an eyebrow. Externally, I portrayed a woman in control, while internally, I begged him to say all the right things. To ask me to give us another chance. To make me feel safe loving him.
“I’ve struggled to believe that I’m good for you. Or that someone else wouldn’t be better. But then I started seeing signs that I wasn’t, and that you knew it.”
“What signs?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… Dennis being around you so much, helping you—”
“I’m Banjo’s vet,” I interrupted.
He winced. “I know. I know. But he’d talk like he was still the man you should rely on. Or talking about your work ethic like I don’t know how hard you work. That he knew you better than I did, knew your needs better than I did. And you… You never contradicted him.”
I shook my head, shocked that I could have missed how all that would have made Elijah feel. But then, I wasn’t responsible for the feelings he said nothing about, just like he wasn’t responsible for the feelings I didn’t share.
“I don’t think you read all the Dennis stuff correctly. He is… not a deep thinker,” I explained. “I don’t think he’s capable of manipulation.”
Elijah raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Seriously.”
“He wants you back.”
I threw up my arms. “We. Were. Never. Together.”
Elijah looked like he wanted to argue, but stopped himself. “Fine. You know him. I don’t. And honestly, this isn’t about him.”
“No, it’s not.” I held his gaze. “No one has ever found solutions to my problems the way you did. I mean, that community fund—Elijah, I hope you know what a kindness that is. The entire town will benefit from it.”
He shifted as if my praise fit uncomfortably around his shoulders. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone else.”
His words wrapped me up and tied me into knots.
He pushed his hair off his forehead. “Anyway, other people insinuated or outright said you two made more sense.”
“Who?” I leaned my head back as the realization dawned. “Shane Briar.”
Elijah spread and flexed his fingers. “Him, but before that, I overheard a conversation between Sterling and Ben. And it made my worst insecurities feel real.”
“Sterling and Ben?” My mouth hung open in disbelief.
“Yeah… I haven’t talked to them about it yet.”
“That would feel terrible.”
“It did.” He kept fidgeting as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. It seemed to take a significant amount of willpower to meet my eyes. “But I should have told you… all of that. I shouldn’t have decided my paranoia was real, and that I should run away before you could leave me.” His voice thickened with emotion, and his eyes shone. “I’m really sorry for that.”
“Thank you. You should have talked to me, but it’s hard to say things sometimes.” I bit my lower lip and felt the tides shift—knowing it was my turn to be honest. “I was also feeling… insecure.”
A crease formed between his eyebrows.
“People love you—”
“Not everyone,” he pointed out.
I grinned. “No. But even the ones who don’t want your attention. I’m always going to be this awkward animal girl to them. I know they wonder what you see in me. And you were right, I don’t like their attention.”
Staring down at his hands, he said, “They’re idiots if they don’t see how great you are.”
“They are idiots, and I’m sorry that I let their opinions into my head.”
My world had shrunk to just Elijah and me. But not knowing what to say, or what all of this could mean for us, I rested my chin on my hand, taking in the rest of the bar. Nora lifted a questioning eyebrow, and I shrugged that everything was okayish. His friend in the ridiculous coat watched less directly, lifting a beer to his lips.
“Is that Sebastian?” I asked.
“He insisted on coming.” Elijah sounded affectionately annoyed.
“How was the drive?”
“Snowy and long. We went slow.”
“Good.” The fear that had gripped my throat eased slightly, even if it was technically too late to worry about him. Driving winter roads was a side effect of living in Michigan, but I would have liked if he hadn’t taken the risk. “You could have called.”
“I…” He sighed, and his shoulders lowered a fraction. Lifting his chin, he looked me straight in the eye. “I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”
His sincerity took my breath away. Inside the depths of his mossy gaze, I found what I’d been looking for. The promise I’d needed to see in order to trust him again.
“If you need time, I can give you that. But I hope you’re willing to… try again.” His jaw tightened.
“I want that. I’ve… I wouldn’t let myself hope that we could get back together, but it’s all I want.”
Little parenthesis pressed around his lips as lines drew from the corners of his eyes. White teeth bit into the flesh of his lower lip. I was pulled in by the magnetism of his smile—one pole finding the other. I was held in his field without being touched. Settling into the power of his draw was as natural as submitting to gravity.
I couldn’t have fought back the smile spreading across my face if I’d tried. Happiness flitted and soared inside my ribcage.
It happened in such slow increments that I didn’t even realize we were closing the distance between us. Both of us leaning over the table until our mouths finally met. I supported myself on my forearms, standing in a crouch. He had one booted foot on the booth while his palm rested against the sensitive skin of my throat. His thumb stroked from my jaw down my neck and back.
He sucked on my lower lip and I slipped my tongue against the tip of his. Exploring, remembering, reclaiming.
Someone let out a loud whistle, and we pulled apart to find Nora, Sebastian, and Ben clapping.
My face grew hot, but I giggled, sinking down in my seat. Elijah stayed where he was, confident in the attention with an adoring smile directed toward me.
I gasped when he put a knee on the tabletop and then the other. Supported on both knees and a hand, he sank his fingers into the hair at the back of my neck.
“Fuck ’em,” he joked. “Come here.”
Then his mouth was on mine, hungry and demanding.
I wasn’t embarrassed anymore.