Chapter 13
Elijah
I don't think I've ever been rendered this fucking speechless.
River sent me a video of Willow dancing, and I just… stopped. Stood there like an idiot, phone in my hand, my heart doing something it had no business doing. I watched it once, then again, and then a third time before I realised I hadn't blinked.
She's unreal.
The way she moves is beautiful. It's not forced but all natural, like her body knows exactly where the music wants her to go, and she lets it take her there without a fight. Every step carries so much emotion.
That kind of talent doesn't come from practice alone. It comes from living. From loss. From loving something enough to let it hurt.
She can't give this up. She shouldn't. Watching her dance makes that painfully clear.
I replay it again whilst Ezra is in the back, retrieving the rest of his delivery.
Not just because I love the way she dances, but because she's beautiful in a way that sneaks up on you.
Since she moved in, she's put no effort into her appearance, hair tied up all the time and oversized clothes, and I still think she's breathtaking.
Willow is the most beautiful woman I know.
It's becoming a problem.
All I can think about is what it would feel like to have her dance for me. Close. Hardly any space between us. To feel that energy against my body instead of through a screen.
It would be so easy to cross that line. Too easy.
But I don't. Not because the urge isn’t there—because it is. Every part of me wants her in a way that feels instinctive and impossible to ignore.
The last few weeks have split something open between us, something neither of us can pretend isn’t there anymore. I can feel the shift in the way she looks at me now, the way the air changes when it's just the two of us.
The only problem is she's still healing, still finding her footing in a life that's been turned on its head, and I won't be the man who takes advantage of that. No matter how badly I want her or how much my body reacts every time she's close.
It would be wrong.
But Christ… it could be so right.
I’ll hold back for now.
When I do finally touch her—when I let myself act on what's been burning under my skin—it won't be because of her grief that has her vulnerable or because she's searching for someone to make her forget. It’ll be because she wants me. All of me.
The same way I already want her—mind, body, and everything in between.
I’m more than a little pissed I didn't get to take her myself. Instead, I’m stuck here, helping Ezra set up some over-the-top summer cocktail event at his bar, while my head keeps drifting to her.
I asked River to take her if they got the chance, but it didn't make it any better.
Every second she's out there without me, laughing or moving or just existing, I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.
“Fuck me,” Ezra mutters at my shoulder, a low whistle following like he's got a death wish.
I jerk my elbow back on instinct, nearly losing my phone as I connect with his chest. He grunts, folding slightly, then straightens with a grin that I’m very close to knocking off his face that shouldn't be watching her like that.
Even if he is my brother.
“That Willow?” he asks, rubbing his ribs. “Damn, she can move.”
“Not. Another. Word.” I grind out.
Ezra lifts his hands in mock surrender, lips twitching as I shoulder past him toward the bar where bright umbrellas and summer crap clutter every surface.
“You like her.”
It's not a question, but I pretend I don't hear him anyway.
“You can't ignore me,” he sings, hopping up onto the bar beside me.
“I absolutely can.”
He leans closer. “Anyone with eyes can see it. You've bent over backwards for her since she moved in. And the jealousy? Mate, it's practically leaking out of you every time her name is mentioned.”
I grab a folded drink umbrella and flick it at his chest. It hits him dead centre.
“I don't get jealous,” I say calmly.
He chuckles. “Sure. So you wouldn't care if I asked her out? Or mentioned how perky her ass looks when she dances?”
My head snaps toward him before I can stop it, narrowing my eyes, and that's exactly what he wanted.
“Yeah. Thought so.”
“You finish that sentence,” I warn quietly, “and you'll be eating through a straw.”
Ezra drops off the bar. “Relax. I’m just saying—this is new for you. You didn't even blink when Rose cheated.”
It's true, I felt disgusted because it was on my bed, and it's just not something I wanted to walk in on that day.
He claps his hands. “This is fucking gold; wait till the rest of the family finds out.”
This time, I toss a flower lei at him. “Not a word, Ez. It's complicated with River and Rose.”
He catches the lei and loops it around his neck like a trophy. “Rose should've signed the papers already and fucked off out of your house.”
Easier said than done. “You know why she hasn't.”
“Yeah, because you're too decent for your own good.”
Then, because he can't control his mouth. “There's no way you can fuck Willow—”
I smack the side of his head.
“Shit—fuck, dude.”
I step in close. “Don't ever put the word fuck and her name in the same sentence.”
Ezra rubs his head, eyes bright with interest. “Jesus, you're completely fucked.”
Maybe.
“Has anything happened between you two?”
I keep my back to him, looping the faux flowers along the doorway. If I don't keep myself busy, Ezra will find one of these pretty little leis strangling him.
“Nothing's happened.”
“Why not? I’d be on her in a heartbeat.”
Sometimes I question how we are related.
“She's grieving, Ez.” I tell myself this every day when she's too close. “What kind of man would I be to fuck her when she's not in the right headspace?”
Ezra opens his mouth, thinks better of it, then leans back against the bar, arms crossed over his chest.
“And don't forget,” I add. “Willow has never liked me.”
“Because of what you did?”
I nod once, still focused on the garlands in my hands, snapping the last tie into place before adjusting the brim of my cap.
“She's not over it yet?” he presses. “She's what—twenty-one?”
“Almost twenty-one,” I say flatly. “And you might be the dumbest person ever.”
He huffs, but doesn't say a word.
“I broke her family apart when she was a kid. Rose didn't just let her go—she replaced her. New life. New kid, and Leon?” My jaw tightens. “He was her whole damn universe.”
I finally look at Ezra, then, just long enough to make my point land.
“In her eyes, Rose and I are the bad guys in her story. We hurt the person she loves.”
Thankfully, he doesn't crack a joke this time.
“I don't blame her,” I continue, voice steady even when my chest isn't. “Never have. If I could go back and beat some sense into the man—boy I used to be, I would. But all I can do is live with it.”
I just wish I could do the same to Leon, but our friendship sailed a long time ago, and he refused to speak to me.
“That’s why I offered her a place to stay. The reason I've been an overbearing ass at times and never let her be alone.” My breath catches. “Because I don't want to know where she'd be if no one had been there.”
She already hurt herself.
“Then I saw her again. I didn't see the child I hurt or Leon's daughter.” I swallow. “But as a woman who has seriously messed with my head.”
When I walked into the spare room and saw her for the first time, it knocked the wind out of me.
It wasn't just her beauty that captivated me, or even her clumsiness; it was her eyes. The sadness in them was deep and settled, the kind that doesn’t scream for attention but weighs you down until you feel suffocated.
It cut right through me. I would have traded places with her in an instant if it meant she didn’t have to bear that kind of pain any longer.
I wanted to be the one who kept her standing even though she wanted to let go.
I know I've said too much by the way he's looking at me, expecting some bullshit to spill out of his mouth—but he doesn't. He just moves closer, hand landing on my shoulder with a firm squeeze.
“I won't say a word to anyone. Just… do what makes you happy. River might be a little apprehensive at first—”
I cut him off, smirking. “Big words for you, that.”
He punches my shoulder with a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Shut up, fucker. As I was saying… he’ll get over it. Maybe after giving you a black eye, but…” he pauses, his tone softening in a way that makes me tilt my head as if someone has taken over his body.
“After all these years, you've stayed with her for him; I think it's about time you did something that actually makes you happy. Because she clearly does.”
I blink at him, completely caught off guard. Ezra's twin, Ethan, is the quiet one, and Ezra… well, him being serious like this makes me wonder if he's actually right. I push the thought aside and pull him into a hug, patting his back the way men do, so it doesn't look all soft and sentimental.
“Thanks, Ez,” I mutter.
We pull apart, and he gives my cheek a quick, brotherly pat before moving behind the bar. He grabs a couple of beers from the fridge and lobs one in my direction.
“So,” he says casually, “Are you coming to the party here tomorrow?”
I catch the bottle and glance around the colourful space, unimpressed. “Definitely not. It's not like you'll get anyone on the dance floor.”
He scoffs. “Why not? Everyone loves a boogie.”
I take a sip. “Not in a bar, they don't. And you haven't even advertised it. The only reason you're doing this is because you want an excuse to grind on some poor woman.”
He gapes at me. “I don't need an excuse to grind on someone. But it's true. You should come and bring Willow with you.”
That's an instant no. The image of her anywhere near this place with some stranger's hands all over her body makes me want to rip my hair out.
“I’ll give it a miss.”
Right on cue, the doors swing open and River storms in, irritation rolling off him in waves.
Ezra laughs. “Whoa, mate. Who died?”
River shoots him a glare. “I’ve had one hell of a day.”
I set my bottle down, already scanning past him. My stomach drops when I don't see her.
“Wait,” I say, stepping forward. “Where's Willow?”
He doesn't answer me right away, and I’m very close to drop-kicking my own son. He flops into a chair, elbows propped on the table, bottom lip jutting out like a moody teenager.
“With her new friend,” he answers quietly.
I narrow my eyes. That's not enough. “A guy?”
Ezra elbows me lightly, a knowing smirk on his face. I ignore him, focusing on River and trying to keep my jealousy locked up.
“No, remember that girl at Beantastics?”
I scrunch my face, racking my brain. Ezra snaps his fingers beside me like he's just solved a Rubik's Cube.
“The girl you fancy who doesn't even give you the time of day?”
I rub my temple.
This fucking guy.
“Yes,” River hisses. “That’s her. We were at the coffee shop, and they wanted girl talk. Quinn practically threw me out.”
I exhale, relief washing over me. She's safe and not with some guy. I’m glad she's made a friend.
Ezra booms out a laugh. “Oh, man, you seriously need to move on. She's just not that into you.”
River grumbles, glaring daggers at my brother. “Not funny.”
“Trust me, it's hilarious.”
They keep bickering back and forth, voices overlapping, neither of them willing to back down. Ezra's poking for sport, River’s snapping, which leads to a brawl, and I’m stuck between them, wondering how the hell I raised one and grew up with the other.
All I want to do is bang their heads together, tell them both to shut the fuck up, and go home.
Not for the quiet.
But for her.
I want to be there when Willow walks through the door. I want to see her face, catch the way her eyes light up as she talks about her day.
Just the thought of her smiling sparks something deep inside me, something warm and dangerous and alive. For the first time, I’m not sure I want to push it down or pretend it isn't there.
I’m really sick of fighting it.