Chapter 01 ELI
Love had always been my downfall.
I fell too easily, and loved way too hard. The icing on the cake? The objects of my affection were usually emotionally unattainable or no damn good for me.
It all started back in college. My roommate’s best friend caught my eye, and I pursued him even after I realized the two of them were hopelessly in love with each other. I spent the next decade of my life convincing myself that he’d chosen me over the man he loved. In truth, I’d never stood a chance. Days before our wedding, I called everything off and left. Seizing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I packed my bags and fled thousands of miles from my past—to Woodland Park.
I’d started over once before, I could do it again.
And a year later, I was doing pretty well for myself. I excelled in my surgical fellowship, swiftly landing an attending position in the emergency room at Woodland Park General Hospital. That was where I met Nate.
At first, I was hesitant about dating. Evergreen Grove was the perfect neighborhood to clear my head, and a relationship was the last thing I needed. The Grove was a peaceful, suburban area—nothing like Las Vegas. I’d spent the majority of my early adulthood pouring every ounce of myself into a relationship that was doomed from the start. Woodland Park was the kind of place where I could focus on figuring out who I was. All things aside, the breakup sucked. Moving on from the love of my life seemed impossible.
Then Nate limped into my emergency room.
A “work accident“
had sent him in with a sprained ankle and a cut on his forehead. I gave him some painkillers and stitched up the cut, all while he tried like hell to get my number—despite me repeatedly telling him I wasn’t interested.
But I couldn’t lie to myself: Nate was my type. Long blond hair, covered in tattoos and leather…
He had the charm down to a science. That’s what roped me in, not the bad boy look.
I patched him up and sent him on his way—barely. I almost caved, but our time together came to an end, and I went home to dream about what could’ve been.
Nate returned to the ER three days later, this time with a bouquet of wildflowers and the insistence that he buy me dinner to thank me for “saving his life.”
Curse the hopeless romantic in me—I became the fall risk, not my patients. A few months later, he was spending most nights at my place than his own.
When he was with me, he was the perfect boyfriend. He was kind, attentive, and incredible in bed.
One breezy summer night, after a shift that seemed to drag on for days, he massaged the tension out of every inch of my body. Sated, I let him lie on my chest after, peppering kisses across my neck. “Why don’t we,“
he began, flicking his tongue over my nipple and drawing a shiver out of me, “go to the store and get some ice cream?”
“Ice cream?“
I giggled. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
“Can you blame me? You wore me out. I’m starving.“
He smiled up at me, dirty blond hair falling across his intoxicating brown eyes. “And I wasn’t planning on using a spoon.“
As if I couldn’t infer what he meant by that, he licked a path up the center of my stomach.
I squirmed at the wet heat trailing up my skin. “Um, on second thought, ice cream sounds great.”
We scrambled out of bed and into the nearest clothes, which left me in his jeans and an old T-shirt that were comically big on me, but I didn’t mind. They smelled like him, and they were comfortable—and warm, which was important the second we stepped out of the house. Despite the hot summer days, nights in this part of the country were chilly. The air off of the water was a welcome change from the stagnant desert of Vegas.
“This better be worth it,“
I mock-complained.
“You could have stayed home.”
“Please. With how many hours I put in today? People will have to pry us apart with a crowbar.”
Nate threw me a teasing grin, the dashboard lights playing over his face.
I was such a glutton for punishment.
Despite my bravado, I’d had such a long day that by the time we got to the twenty-four-hour convenience store ten minutes away, there was no getting me out of the car.
Nate’s laugh stirred me from where I’d dozed off against the window. “What?“
I rubbed at my tired eyes.
“You are so adorable.”
“Shut up and go get my ice cream.”
Chuckling, Nate got out of the car and disappeared into the store, leaving the car running so I’d have some air. I lowered the volume on the radio so I wouldn’t be subjected to his latest death metal screaming match. That’s when the phone call came through. It was connected to Nate’s Bluetooth.
The screen read, “Hottie with a Harley.”
I glanced at the storefront. Nate stood with his back to the window, scanning the freezers… and talking on the phone. I narrowed my eyes and reached for the volume.
He hung up.
Stomach churning, I curled up in the seat, pulling my arms tight around myself. My fiancé had cheated on me right before he agreed to marry me, but he still chose to marry me, so I told myself it was all right. I only wound up getting hurt as a result. I was so naive. I swore I would never let it happen again.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Nate leaving the store. The car door opened, and I jumped.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, just… tired.”
Nate set the shopping bag in the back seat, tossed his phone in the cupholder, and backed out of the parking spot.
I licked my lips. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”
His answer came instantly and without hesitation. “My brother.”
“At three in the morning?”
“Yeah, he works nights. He was on his lunch break.”
Now, I was an only child, but I couldn’t imagine a world where one brother would save the other as “Hottie with a Harley“
in their phone.
I studied Nate’s face as he drove. He didn’t seem suspicious of my interrogation. In fact, he had a slight grin on his face. One that I’d never seen before… almost like a kid who’d gotten away with stealing cookies.
“Who’s, um…“
I paused to clear my throat. How was I supposed to accuse someone of cheating right to their face? And why did I feel like the villain when I was pretty sure I was the victim? Christ this was giving me a headache. Maybe I was wrong. After all, it was just a phone call. I could ignore it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Who’s ‘Hottie with a Harley’?”
Nate laughed incredulously. “What?”
I gestured to the screen on the center display. “When you were talking to your brother, your phone connected to the car.”
Nate squirmed. “It’s just a joke between brothers.”
“So explain it to me.”
“Why are you all over me?”
“Why are you getting defensive?“
My heart was pounding now. He was definitely hiding something. Suddenly, his clothes weren’t the comfort they’d been a few minutes ago. They scraped against my skin like sandpaper. “If it’s just your brother, then tell me about him.”
“Listen, babe, you’re making too much of this. It’s not your fault, I think your history is—”
“My history?”
Nate pulled into the driveway. Before I could think twice about it, I snatched his phone and ran into the house. How dare he use my past against me.
He shouted after me, but I locked myself inside the hallway bathroom. My back was against the wood, hands shaking and my vision blurred with tears. Nate once joked that all of his passwords were sixty-nine. I quashed the guilt I felt for invading his privacy and put 6969 into his phone. It worked.
There wasn’t anything in his texts or his recently deleted photos. Nate was pounding on the door, thundering fists seeming to hammer my back through the wood. I set his phone on the counter, taking a moment to just stare at it.
I could let it go. I could give his phone back and apologize for overreacting.
“Eli, open the door!”
The sound of wood splintering sent that thought right out the window. He wouldn’t be so aggressive if he didn’t have something to hide.
I snatched the phone again and found the contact, then hit “Call“
before I chickened out.
A low, rumbling chuckle echoed through the speaker and sent a shiver down my spine. “I knew you’d come running back. They always do.”
I shook off the image of what that voice must’ve done to Nate—what it nearly did to me. Nate still bashed at the door, but I held strong.
“Hello?“
God, I wish my voice hadn’t been breaking.
“Oh… you’re not Nathan.”
“No, I’m his boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?”
One final thud, and Nate’s footsteps retreated. I let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, boyfriend.”
“Oh, shit.“
The guy fell silent. The only sound was my uneven panting, my lungs having forgotten how to work. “Um, what’s your name?”
“Eli,“
I choked out.
“I am so sorry, Eli. He never mentioned a boyfriend.”
“So you two have been… seeing each other?”
“If by ‘seeing each other’ you mean hooking up? Yes, we have.”
I slid to the floor, drawing my knees to my chest. Refusing to let this stranger hear me break down, I muted the call and bit down on my fist, hot tears burning a path down my face. I took gulps of shuddering air, but they didn’t make me feel any better.
“Eli?“
the guy asked after a few tense moments.
With a deep inhale, I centered myself and unmuted the call. “I’m still here. And for what it’s worth, Nate doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore.”
He swore quietly. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, if that’s what you want. Or you never have to speak to me again. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Part of me did want to know everything. Closure, right? I didn’t get that before. I hadn’t wanted it. I didn’t need more details when I’d had a front row seat to my fiancé and his best friend falling in love with each other.
God, I didn’t want to choose. My entire life was about making decisions and calling the shots. It was the last thing I wanted to do when I went home at night. In both of my serious relationships, I hadn’t had to think about anything.
Now I had to rethink everything.
“I-I…“
I stammered. “I don’t know what to do.”
A pause. “Are you safe?”
“Y-yeah. He’s not dangerous. Just pissed he got caught.”
“Why don’t you save my number?“
he suggested. “I’m blocking this one, and I’m never going to see Nathan again.”
I winced. He hated being called by his full name. At least, he hated it when I did it. “Why would I want to save your number?”
The guy sighed. “Just in case you ever want to know. I can show you everything: Call logs, text messages, the app profile.“
I groaned. Fuck, he’d been on dating apps and I had no idea? “Look,“
he continued, “I know I’m only a stranger on the other end of a phone right now, and probably someone you don’t like very much. But you sound like you’re really torn up about this.”
My head dropped against the bathroom door. A broken, hollow laugh bubbled out of me. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
“There’s probably not much I can do to convince you that I’m not a bad guy, but giving you something is all I can offer. That, and my apologies. I mentioned that I’m really sorry?”
“Yeah, thanks,“
I said dryly, and I ended the call.
For a long moment, I stared at that screen. “Hottie with a Harley“
stared back at me, taunting me. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I took a screenshot and texted it to myself. That way, I’d have no regrets. Right? I could always delete the message if I decided not to use it.
My head thunked against the bathroom door again. Nate’s heavy footfalls paced one way down the hall, then the other. Closing my eyes, I took a series of deep breaths—long enough for the tears to stop burning.
Then, after gathering every scrap of courage I could, I pulled myself to my feet, splashed my face with cold water, and exited the bathroom.
Nate stopped pacing and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Whatever he told you, it’s a lie.”
Silently, I pressed his phone to his chest and simply… walked away.
“Eli?“
he called after me.
I didn’t answer. I was already in my bedroom, pulling his belongings from my closet and dresser. Returning to the bathroom, I grabbed his toothbrush and his overly expensive bath products from the shower and threw everything into the first duffel bag I could find.
He chased me the whole way, blubbering half-assed excuses. When he ran out of those, he switched to empty apologies. He didn’t stop spouting his bullshit until I’d found all his things, zipped up the duffel, and tossed his shit outside.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?“
I spat, tone laced with venom. “I’m throwing you out.”
“E—”
“Get out! We’re done.”
I rarely yelled, and Nate knew it. He slunk out the door. Before I shut it, I stripped out of his hoodie and jeans, tossing those after him as well. The cold air on my bare skin nearly made me regret it.
But the sound of the door slamming behind him was worth it.