Chapter 4 Elle
Elle
They chat for a moment longer while I listen, but a knock on the glass door interrupts us. Clo barely glances up as a maid steps inside. “Ma’am, your guests are estimated to arrive early to the coastline venue meeting.”
Clo sighs, setting her full coffee down with a clink. “How punctual.” She rises, casting a glance at Stanley. “I trust you’ll keep Elle company while I’m away.”
Stanley grins, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, I’ll definitely keep her company.” His gaze goes to me, teasing. “I think she’s enjoying it already.”
I blink, caught off guard yet again.
“Stay as long as you like, darling.” Clo tilts her head toward me, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “Stanley is good company.”
With that, she leaves, the click of her heels fading down the hall.
The moment the door closes, it feels like the room shifts, as if a new tension entered in her absence.
Stanley stretches his arms over the back of his chair. “Well, looks like it’s just the two of us now.”
I nod stiffly, feeling utterly out of my depth. My fingers tighten around the edge of my teacup, and I glance down at the cooling liquid, hoping to find something to ground me.
But then I look up while I drink. Stanley is watching me intently, his gaze piercing and assessing again. That teasing glint is still there, and it sets off an unsettling awareness that I can’t shake.
He leans forward slightly, his voice dipping low. “Am I making you nervous, Elle?”
My heart skips as my eyes widen in surprise.
“You’re all stiff, like I might bite or something.” His grin widens as if he’s enjoying the effect he’s having on me. “I mean, I could bite, but only if you asked nicely.”
Heat floods my neck. I try to swallow, but it feels like my throat is tightening. “I—”
He laughs, leaning back again, as if he’s won some invisible battle. “Relax. I’m just messin’ with ya.”
I breathe out slowly, the tension in my shoulders not quite easing.
“I like you,” he says suddenly, his voice light.
I startle slightly. “What…?”
“I like you,” he repeats, his tone casual, almost affectionate. “You’re cute when you’re all flustered.”
My stomach flips. My eyelids flutter in confusion. I watch as Stanley leans forward even more, his arms crossed on top of the table. His biceps flex as he flashes his teeth. His black shirt clings to broad shoulders, his muscular build impossible to ignore.
“You’re quiet,” he says, “but not in a way that makes it awkward. I like that.”
I nod, acknowledging his words, though my mind is racing. I can’t tell if it’s the way his eyes linger on me or the fact that he’s so assured, so at ease with his effect on me. Either way, my chest tenses.
“So Elle…” His voice is deeper now, pulling me back in, and he looks me over, eyes intense. “Anyone ever tell ya that you’re cute when you blush?”
I freeze, the heat in my neck spreading across my face. “…I’m not blushing.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, his grin pulling at his lips. “I don’t know about that.”
I grip my teacup tightly again, the porcelain cooler now beneath my fingertips, trying to steady myself. The way he’s looking at me makes it difficult to breathe, and I don’t know how to respond.
Just when I think I might collapse under the weight of his gaze, his grin softens as he laughs between his words. “Don’t worry, it’s adorable as hell.”
His voice is too much. It’s like a pull, a force, and I instinctively slide one hand down onto my lap and curl my fingers around my shirt’s hem, trying to push the heat away.
My gaze darts to the door again, as though Clo might suddenly swoop in and guide me through this talk. But the hallway remains empty.
“Already planning an escape? Shit, I must be losin’ my touch.” He chuckles, resting his head on his palm as he leans on his elbow. “I promise you, Elle, you’re gonna like me.”
“That’s…an interesting assumption.”
“Not an assumption.” He points a finger in my direction. “You’re already warmin’ up to me. And if you’re not yet, well…I’ve got other ways to warm you up.”
A prickle runs down my spine. My lips part, but he’s already leaning closer.
“Relax, Elle. I meant by flirting with you.” He smirks. “Unless you were hoping for another way we could warm each other up?”
I freeze again, my mouth going dry. I’m trying to gather a response, but it feels like everything in me is stuck, caught between the heat and the quiet desire to either lean in or pull away. “Oh.” I clutch my shirt, my fingers trembling slightly.
“That’s cute,” he says with a chuckle. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”
I clear my throat, hoping to steady myself. “I—”
“No need to use your pretty voice,” he interrupts, winking. “I can already tell. I got ya flustered.”
I look down at my lap, not sure how to respond to that either.
Pride’s obvious in his voice when he keeps speaking. “Like Ma said, I’m quick at reading people. For example, I know you’re trying very hard not to stare into my eyes right now.”
I choke on my breath, not expecting that at all. His laughter follows, rich and contagious, warm in a way that almost makes it impossible to be anything but delighted. It’s a laugh much like how Kaye beams at me with her brightness.
“Busted,” he teases, and I feel myself melting a little.
My hands loosen, the tension I was holding starting to ebb as I reach for my teacup, trying to calm my pounding pulse. But his eyes are still on me.
Stanley catches the small smile I fight to suppress. “Oh no,” he teases some more. “Did I just make you smile? Are you falling for me already?”
I shake my head, laughing lightly. His gaze lingers on me, but I don’t mind as much.
I take another sip of tea, its bitterness still present despite the honey, but somehow…easier to swallow with Stanley’s company.
“You’re…pretty cheeky,” I murmur, my eyes meeting his over the rim of my cup.
“Emphasis on pretty though, right?”
I huff a quiet laugh.
He puffs out his chest. “See? You already like me.”
I shake my head again, amused, though part of me can’t quite deny it.
His voice suddenly drops. “Let’s make it official, then. Call me Stan.”
Sighing softly, I shake my head once more, half-amused but also half-resigned. “Okay, Stan.”
His grin stretches lazily, pleased with the easy win. “Look at that. We’re already so close.”
For some reason, I can’t quite remember what I was thinking about before he walked in.
“So is Elle short for something?” he asks, breaking my train of thought as he picks up a biscuit.
I blink, feeling a strange, sudden panic rise in me. His question presses in harder than it should. I glance over at the door, hoping Clo would reappear. She knows so much about me, and she always fills in the gaps. But she’s not here.
Stan sets a half-eaten biscuit down. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. I told ya, didn’t I? I’ll warm ya up.”
Heat returns up my neck, closing my throat. He winks again, making it worse, before sipping his mother’s coffee. But then he quickly pulls a face, probably from the black coffee’s bitterness.
“Fuck’s sake, this stuff’s awful. Wanna get out of here?” Stan gets up, not looking back at me, most likely expecting me to follow. Much to my surprise, I easily do. The hesitation I’d felt moments ago seems to drift away with each step.
He pushes open the double glass doors leading into the gardens, stepping out into the cool morning air.
Soon enough, I see a black motorcycle that gleams under the sunlight, its chrome details catching the light like a sharpened blade. It looks powerful and dangerous. I shouldn’t be staring so openly, but I do.
Stan turns back to me, catching my look, a smirk spreading across his face. “Like what ya see?”
I offer a small smile. “It’s…nice.”
He snorts. “Nice? Elle, come on.” He leans on the handlebars. “He’s got power, speed, style. Everything a girl could want.”
I raise my knitted brows. “You think I’d want a motorcycle?”
He smirks, stepping closer, his broad frame cutting a shadow over me. “I’m talking about me, Elle.”
At my breathy gasp, Stan’s eyes gleam with mischief. In that tight black shirt and dark denim, he looks effortlessly rugged and attractive. My fingers twitch, as if they want to trace over his muscles.
I push that thought away. He watches me like he knows anyway. Like he can really read me that well.
I purse my lips together, feigning polite indifference. “It suits you.”
He grins. “That sounds like a compliment.”
I can’t help the faint flush that creeps up my neck. “…I didn’t mean to.”
He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. “Damn. And here I thought we were getting somewhere.”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer, since he takes another step closer, close enough that I catch the faint scent of leather and the ocean breeze clinging to his skin. Close enough that my thoughts start slipping again.
Stan tilts his head, studying me. “You okay there, Elle? You look a little dazed.”
I blink, forcing myself back to center, clearing my throat. “I—”
“Let me guess.” He taps his chin. “You’re wondering what it’d be like to ride with me. Wind in your hair, arms wrapped real tight around me…”
I wasn’t. But now I am. Still, I shake my head, as if that might banish the tempting image.
“Yeah,” he continues with a teasing lilt. “You like the thought of it, don’t ya?”
I stay silent. His grin only grows, full of mischief and charm. Then, without breaking eye contact, he swings a leg over the bike, settling on it with a casual ease that only makes the machine look even more tempting.
He gestures toward the space behind him. “Come on, Elle. Take a chance.”
I should say no. I should remember the unease at the edges of my mind, the missing pieces of my past I keep brushing aside.
But Stan feels like the distraction I need.
And I want to feel something—anything—other than this gnawing emptiness, and the throbbing ache it leaves behind.
So, before I can talk myself out of it, I step forward.