Chapter 27
Elijah
“Got everything?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe and eyeing the ridiculous pile of bags at Rivers' feet. “Or are we moving house?”
He shrugs his rucksack over one shoulder and looks down. “Pretty sure.”
I raise a brow. “Are you certain? Not forgotten your makeup bag. Your skin care routine or your emotional support teddy bear?”
He smacks my shoulder as he walks past, and I grin. The makeup bag is a joke.
Mr Fluffington is not.
He's had that bear since he was a baby and still sleeps with it every single night. It's probably why he's never let a girl stay over. Some secrets are worth protecting.
“I have to leave him here,” he mutters sadly.
I nod solemnly. His friends have absolutely no idea about his nighttime companion, and as one of the lads on the football team, he would never hear the end of it if they found out.
“I’ll look after him for you.”
Her voice floats down the hallway, warm and bright, and I turn my head toward the stairs.
For a second, I genuinely forget how to breathe.
She's either trying to kill me… or I've already died, and this is what heaven looks like. The way my heart starts hammering in my chest can't be healthy.
Willow reaches the bottom step, and the sight of her steals every coherent thought I have.
Her copper hair is elegantly piled atop her head, with loose strands curling playfully around her face, having already slipped free from her hair tie. At the crown, a deep emerald bow contrasts beautifully with the fiery hues of her hair, perfectly complementing the rich colour of her dress.
The dress hugs her waist before gently flaring out to fall mid-thigh, the fabric swaying softly as she walks.
Ruffled sleeves rest delicately on her shoulders, and a small bow is centred on her chest. She holds a cardigan in one hand, wears white Converse on her feet, and her legs are tanned from the sun, toned from the dancing she has taken up again.
I’ll never get tired of looking at her.
The other day, when I accidentally let it slip about the daughter I lost, and I broke, well, it was something new for me. I don't cry in front of people. I don't fall apart. The only person who's seen that side of me is my mam.
But Willow didn't question it or panic at the reminder that I have a past with her mam. She just held me and let me fall apart without trying to fix it. She allowed me to feel angry, and in her own quiet way, she assured me that it was okay.
Nobody has ever made me feel like I don't have to keep everything together all the time. It's safe to drop the weight and trust someone else to carry it with me.
She's the kindest soul I've ever known. And I never, ever want to let go.
River shakes his head, and I have to bite back a grin because the only person Willow is sleeping with this weekend is me. Well, when I’m not fucking her, that is. The thought of having her all to myself. No interruptions, no hiding, just us… It makes my pulse spike and my imagination run wild.
“No thanks,” River says. “Sassy will just hump him or maul it.”
Willow steps up beside him, arms crossed. Chin tilted. “Sassy doesn't hump. She's a lady.”
I hide a smirk behind my hand, but she notices it anyway. Her green eyes lock on mine, sparkling with desire and mischief.
The things I have planned for her this weekend would make a saint blush.
“Whatever,” he mutters, flicking her. “Just keep her away from Mr Fluffington. And never—ever let Quinn know.”
Willow laughs, bright and unbothered, and luckily, River isn't looking at me because I can't stop stealing glances at her.
A car horn blasts outside, the bass from the music rattling the windows. I open the door as his friends pull up, Willow lifting one of River's bags while I grab another. Together we sling them into the boot, and my arm brushes against hers.
From the front seat comes a whistle. Max leans out, eyes immediately locking on Willow.
“You must be Willow,” he grins wide and a little too hungry. “River never mentioned how pretty you are.”
If he carries on looking at her like that, I don't care how old he is; I’ll beat him to a pulp.
“I would find it rather odd if my brother went round telling everyone that I’m pretty, don't you think?” she replies, hand on her hip.
He looks taken aback for a moment before rubbing his head. “Are you joining us this weekend? I’m sure we could make room in one of our tents.”
This fucker. I know all of his friends, but Max has always irked me. I’m just glad the others aren't getting involved.
Luckily, River intervenes as he smacks Max on the back of his head, saving me from gritting my teeth any harder. “Stop eye fucking my sister, or I’ll swap your shampoo for hair remover.”
Their relationship is something I fought tooth and nail for when they were younger, and seeing them like this made it all worth it.
A flicker of guilt hits me. Not because of what I've started with Willow, I would never regret her. It's that out of all the women I could have fallen for, it had to be his best friend.
His big sister.
But I’m not an idiot. I’m not walking away from something that makes me feel like the world disappears when she's near, like every nerve in my body is awake just for her.
She's worth it.
I cross my arms as I watch Willow shoot River a sideways grin, arms wrapping around him in a quick hug. “Sorry, I’m leaving you with my dad.” River smirks at me over her head. “He's old; he’ll probably pass out early or have one of his grandad naps.”
The cheek of him. Thirty-eight is not old, and there's nothing wrong with a nap.
I laugh, shaking my head as I pull him into a quick hug, ruffling his hair and giving his back a soft pat. “Have a good time. Don't get into trouble, don't fall in a lake, and if you do break any laws, definitely don't tell me.”
It wouldn't be the first time he's fallen into some form of water or got stuck in a tree.
“That was one time.”
“One time too many,” I call after him as he heads to the other side of the car.
I catch him glancing at Willow, his features softening for a brief moment before he lands on me, silently asking me to look out for her. I don't need him to say a word. I’ll do it for the rest of my life.
The group begins hooting, music blaring as they peel out of the driveway. River deserves this, especially with his final game approaching. A short break from training will do him some good.
“So, old man. Do you need one of your old man naps before we head out?” I can hear the teasing tone as she peers up at me, the wind catching her bow and lifting a few strands of hair across her sun-kissed cheeks.
The little minx.
If we weren't outside, she'd be over my knee in a heartbeat as I spank her, then remind her what an ‘old man’ can do.
“Depends,” I drawl, letting my eyes linger over her.
“On what?”
I smirk. “If you'll join me. But only if you're naked.”
Usually, she'd flush, maybe stammer a little, but not this time. She just licks her plump lips, glistening slightly.
“I doubt there'd be much napping involved.”
She has a very good point.
I've always wondered what it would be like to fall asleep with my cock buried inside someone.
Well, not someone. Just Willow now.
“Get in the car before I change my mind,” I warn her, standing straighter.
She spins to comply, giving me a cheeky “Yes, sir.”
I groan under my breath, heat crawling up my chest. God, I want nothing more than to hear her scream that while I’m deep inside her, her voice trembling and breathless with just how much she wants me too.
“Can I open my eyes now?” she asks for what has to be the tenth time.
I grin, keeping my hands firmly over them as she bounces on the balls of her feet, clutching her cardigan for dear life.
The drive here was easy—calm in a way that feels rare and precious. She sang along to half the songs on the radio, fingers laced with mine where my hand rested on her thigh. No awkward silences. No forced conversation.
Just us.
I kept catching her watching the world pass by through the window, a soft little smile playing on her lips before she’d glance back at me, like she couldn't believe this was real.
She has a beautiful voice. The kind you could listen to for hours without realising time had passed.
It makes me wonder what this girl can't do.
She's everything.
And somehow, she's mine.
“Impatience will get you spanked, princess,” I whisper against her ear. I feel the smile spread across her face from the way her cheeks press into my palms.
“Doesn't sound like a punishment to me.”
I let out a quiet laugh. Of course, it doesn't.
People pass by us, some giving us curious looks, others completely uninterested, but I’m too caught up in the moment to give a damn. She's practically buzzing with anticipation.
“Alright,” I step away, moving to her side so I don't miss a second of her reaction. “Surprise.”
She blinks a few times as her eyes adjust, a tiny crease forming on her nose. Then her bright green eyes widened, locking onto the sign in front of us.
“Oh my god… how did you know?” She falls silent, gazing up in awe.
The theatre looms above us just outside of Manchester, lights glowing warmly as evening settles in.
Moulin Rouge: The Musical.
“River told me it was your guilty pleasure,” I say, watching her face carefully. “Apparently, aside from your obsession with Homeward Bound, this is the other one. And you never watched it with your dad.”
I want this to be an us thing.
The truth is, I've never seen this film. Don't have a clue what it's about. But if she loves it, I will too. Or I’ll learn to. Happily.
The grin she gives me is massive—pure, unfiltered joy—and before I can brace myself, she launches at me. I catch her easily, wrapping my arms around her as she squeezes tight.
Her fruity scent fills my lungs, now familiar and comforting in a way I didn't realise I needed.
“Thank you,” she says again and again, pressing a gentle kiss to my neck before I let her slide back down to her feet.
“I was wondering why you weren't wearing your cap,” she adds, reaching up to mess with my hair.
I’ve noticed the way she looks at me whenever I wear it—especially when I wear it backwards. It’s like it means something to her that she can’t quite hide.
“Do you like the cap?”
She nods immediately. “I love it.”
I can't help the small smile that pulls at my mouth.
Rose always hated it. Hated the cap, hated the slightly longer hair.
You'd think I’d grown it to my ass the way she used to complain, when really it just brushed my ears.
I never bothered styling it like the polished lads, either. Never saw the point.
Her gaze drifts back to the theatre, still glowing with excitement. “I can't believe you did this for our date.”
The awe in her voice hits me somewhere deep.
Willow deserves moments like this—unexpected pockets of joy that soften her, wrap around her, and settle somewhere deep inside her heart.
And I intend to give her more of them. More dates, more stolen time, more moments that pull that light back into her eyes and make her smile feel easy again, like it was never lost in the first place.
“You better believe it.” I lace my fingers through hers. “Come on, before we miss it.”
She moves beside me with a barely contained bounce in her step, her dress swishing softly around her thighs as excitement pours off her. It's impossible not to feel it too.
The theatre swallows us in warmth and light. Red velvet seats, golden chandeliers forming soft glows across the packed room, and a low hum of chatter fill the air.
And then it starts.
The stage erupts—flashes of colour, dancers spinning, voices soaring; the music vibrates through the floor. Costumes glitter, lights sweep, and the entire space buzzes with life. It's impossible not to be swept up in it.
I watch… a little.
Mostly, I watch her.
She hums softly under her breath, leaning slightly toward me, and I can't take my eyes off her. The performance is good, but Willow, sitting right beside me, is completely absorbed in it, glowing like the sun. She's the true spectacle.