Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Emelia
Since things seem better between Elliott and me lately, I’ve taken to watching TV in the living room, rather than hiding out in my bedroom and streaming everything on my laptop.
It started with Baylor asking me to watch one of her shows with her before she went down for the night.
Then, a couple of days later, Elliott asked if I wanted to watch the baseball game with him, and I agreed, even though I don’t really like baseball all that much.
Other than Easton Bailey from the neighboring town, Lake Starlight, who now plays for the Colts, I know nothing about the sport.
Tonight, I’m watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, even though I’m a decade late getting into the show, when I hear Elliott’s footsteps coming down the hall. I grab the remote, ready to turn the television off.
He returns minutes later and stops on the other side of the couch. “I’m gonna go chop some wood. It’s starting to get colder, and I’ve gotten behind on it.” He thumbs in the general direction of the backyard.
We’ve gotten into the habit of sitting on the dock together after Baylor has gone to bed. It’s not something we discuss, just one of those things I think we both expect now, so the fact that he’s breaking the pattern is disappointing.
I shouldn’t be surprised. It seems to be one step forward, two steps back with Elliott.
I want to stop him so we can talk about this, but before I can speak up, the sliding glass door in the kitchen opens and closes, and he’s gone.
He’s in his head, I can tell.
I’m not sure when I started being able to read Elliott’s body language, but I feel like a master of it now.
He’s been chopping wood for an hour, and I finally got up off the couch to take a peek. His sweatshirt is on the grass, and the T-shirt he’s wearing clings to him with sweat as he swings the axe over his head over and over. Elliott’s expression is stern, and he mumbles to himself between logs.
I get why he’s up in his head, because the truth is that I am too.
Whatever is or isn’t happening between us is confusing, and I don’t know what to make of it either.
Elliott may have made snap judgments about me when we first met, but I did the same after our first encounter, and he’s nothing like I thought he was. Not at all.
That ball of emotions in my chest tangles more than ever.
I need to do something about it. I’ve already got so much going on in my head where my birth mother is concerned, and I don’t want to have another situation hanging over my head too.
It’s time to clear the air between us, to say the thing neither of us has the guts to say.
When Elliott pauses with the axe stuck in a piece of wood to wipe his forehead with his forearm, I get an idea.
I grab a water bottle, slide on my shoes, and head outside.
Elliott notices me coming and pulls his gloves off as I make my way down the short stairway of the deck. He runs his hand through his hair, damp with sweat, and of course, it falls perfectly back into place.
“Thought you might need this. You’ve been at it for a while.” I hold the water out to him.
“Thanks.” He takes it from me, twists the cap off, and guzzles down half the bottle. When he’s done, he replaces the cap and gestures to what I’m wearing. “Aren’t you cold?”
I have on a pair of leggings and a T-shirt, and yeah, the truth is, I’m a little chilly. “You’re basically wearing the same thing.”
“But I’ve been out here working up a sweat.”
You’re telling me.
He doesn’t mean his words to come off like an innuendo. I know that. Still, a small frisson of heat courses through my body.
“I wanted to come out here before I lost my nerve,” I say, and he tilts his head. “Thought maybe we should talk about what happened last night…”
His brows draw down. “What happened last night?”
“When I was upset and you comforted me.”
Elliott’s lips press together, and he lets the water bottle fall to the grass, setting his hands on his hips. “What about it?”
I sigh. Clearly, he’s not in the same headspace as I am, ready to put it all out in the open. “It felt…meaningful, I guess.”
My voice is unsure because I don’t know how to phrase my thoughts. I’m not sure how to say it out loud—it feels like something is brewing between us. Maybe I’m alone in it, and I’ve misread everything. Maybe his comforting me last night was him being a decent person.
“It was just a conversation.” He looks away from me.
Be brave.
“If it was just a conversation, then why do I feel like it made you uncomfortable or something? You’ve been quiet with me today. We seem to have this pattern where we get closer and then pull back. Maybe we should talk about what’s going on here.”
He studies me for a beat. His gaze is intense, but I force myself not to look away. “What is there to talk about?”
“Elliott, I’m used to always feeling like I don’t quite fit wherever I go. I just…I really need to know where I fit here.”
His eyes find mine. “You’re only here for a couple more months.”
I nod. “I know. Is that what’s on your mind?”
He steps forward. “You want to know what I’ve been thinking about all day?”
I nod.
“I’ve been thinking that the fact that my daughter is so taken with you is a problem.”
“Okay.” We can work with this.
Again, another step forward. “The fact that I’m also so taken with you is the bigger problem.”
My breath catches, and he moves until only a few inches separate us. His hand pushes through the hair at the side of my head, and my eyes drift closed.
After a few moments, I still haven’t felt his lips on mine, and I open my eyes. He’s gazing down at me with a question in his expression.
“Elliott, if you’re going to kiss me, you should do it now. Otherwise, I’m going to go back into the house, and I’ll probably talk myself out of ever letting you have the chance again.”
The words have barely left my mouth before his lips crash to mine.