Chapter 13 Danger #2
The question caught me mid-thought. I looked up, watching the steam curl off my drink before exhaling slowly. Kids? The thought of me having children has never crossed my mind, not even with Jonathan.
“Let me put it this way. When I was twelve, my aunt went into labor at our house. We couldn’t get to the hospital in time, so she ended up giving birth in the backseat of my Daddy’s truck.
With me right next to her.” I shook my head, lips twitching at the memory.
“Safe to say, that traumatized me enough to never seriously consider the whole motherhood thing.”
El blinked at me, completely horrified. His nose crinkled as his mouth pulled into a grimace. “Jesus.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his face.
“And you?” I asked, tilting my head. “Why don’t you really want kids?”
“I told you,” he said, brushing it off.
“I meant besides that.” I leaned forward slightly. “I understand not wanting to potentially pass down the diabetes, but there are other options. Adoption, surrogacy, whatever. But you talk like you never wanted kids, period. Why is that?”
He shrugged, eyes fixed on a scratch in the tabletop.
“Maybe I never did. I knew from a young age that I wanted to be a comic book artist. That dream ate up all my time. Shit, it still does. I wouldn’t know how to split myself between the two. I’d be a shitty father.”
I understood that completely. There were days when I slept in El’evations because I was stressed out about being successful and overworked myself to achieve it.
That’s the thing about ambition; it feasted on you.
Your time, your energy, hell, even your body belonged to it.
You became a slave to it, and the thought of failure closely resembled death. Simply put, I’d rather die than fail.
Not the best trait for a future parent to have. My obsession with success would undoubtedly make me a horrible parent as well. Still, it was fun to tease him.
I arched a brow. “Workaholic.”
A smirk tugged at his lips. “Look who’s talking.”
I chuckled, but the moment the sound left my throat, something felt… off. A slow burn crept down my esophagus, unfamiliar and wrong. I swallowed, but the sensation only worsened, leaving a raw, prickling itch in its wake. Frowning, I rubbed my throat.
“My throat’s on fire.” My voice rasped as I looked up at El. “Can you get me some water?”
His expression shifted, concern slipping into his features. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just…” A thought hit me like a slap to the face.
My breath stilled.
I turned sharply toward the counter, my heart kicking up its pace.
“Hey, new girl,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Which one did you put almond milk in?”
El stiffened beside me, his body going rigid.
The trainee blinked in confusion. “Wasn’t that your order?”
A curse slipped from my lips. Pressure pounded in my head as my airways closed.
“No, honey.” I felt my pulse thundering in my throat. “I’m allergic… to tree nuts.”
The room blurred. Distantly, I heard Lizzie’s horrified gasp, her rushed apologies, and the scrape of a chair against the floor. But all of it was secondary to the terrifying squeeze in my chest and the tightening that stole the air from my lungs.
Christ, did she pour the whole jug of almond milk in there?
“Fuck!” El was out of his seat in an instant. “Do you have an epi?”
I shook my head, struggling to find my voice. “Not… on… me.”
His jaw was clenched. “Jesus, Ellie.”
He turned toward the staff. “Did someone call an ambulance?”
My fingers clawed at my throat as my body screamed for oxygen. My vision wavered, tunneling at the edges.
“Ellie!” El’s voice broke through the fog, sharp and urgent. “I’m gonna have to carry you to the hospital. The ambulance won’t make it in time. I need you to—”
But his words faded, swallowed by the darkness closing in.
?
The last time I had an allergic reaction, I was in preschool, and a teacher’s assistant gave me a Nutella sandwich. I barely remembered what happened, but I did remember Daddy threatening to burn the place down.
Now, I understood why.
“Christ,” I croaked, my voice barely there. The first thing I saw was El rushing over to me. He leaned in close, his eyes scanning my face, watching my breathing like he was afraid it would stop again.
My throat felt like sandpaper. “Never felt this raw before.”
“They had to put a tube down your throat,” he explained, his voice tight.
I exhaled sharply. “Damn. This time was bad.”
El’s expression darkened. “It was. You stopped breathing.”
I stared up at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights too bright. “This shit is crazy.”
El brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, drawing my eyes back to him. His fingers lingered just a second too long as he studied every inch of my expression with understandable fear.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
He was so close.
His concern wrapped around me like a blanket. It was warm but overwhelming.
I squirmed under his gaze and swallowed hard, making the raw dryness of my throat sting. “Maybe just call the nurse,” I offered.
His eyes flashed with realization and a quick look of panic. “Fuck, you’re right. I’m sorry. My mind’s just scrambled.”
He pressed the call button and stepped back, giving me space as I slowly sat up.
A few moments later, a nurse came in.
Meticulously, she checked my vitals and ran a few tests, all while under Elliot’s concerned gaze. He had questions about everything the nurse was doing and studied her movements thoroughly. The man was making me nervous.
“You’ll be fine,” she assured me as she wrote on the clipboard. I heard El’s deep sigh of relief next to me before she continued, “But next time, you might not be. You’re lucky your friend was there to help you.”
El leaned into me with a grin, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, “I guess this makes us friends.”
I scoffed at his playfulness, grateful he relaxed a bit. “Oh, we’re definitely BFFs after this.”
The nurse slid a tray of food in front of me. “Eat something so you can take your meds, then you can go home.”
I glanced down at the tray of the most unappetizing food known to man. Plain steamed fish, a baked potato with no toppings or seasonings, a banana, a small cup of apple juice, and a rice pudding. “Yuck.”
El chuckled. “Come on, it’s not that bad. The rice pudding looks good at least.”
I grabbed the banana and peeled it as I studied him. I didn’t know how long I had been here or how long he had waited, but he looked drained.
Who knew if he had time to eat today with everything that had happened?
And with his diabetes, the poor thing’s blood sugar must be so low.
“You want it?” I offered.
“No, you need it for energy.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’d drink a cup of straight-up almond milk before I eat that. Just take it.”
With a smirk, he took the pudding, tore it open, and shoved a spoonful into his mouth with a moan. He was actually enjoying it.
My eyes widened at the sight. “You just showed every bit of your age.”
?
After swallowing two painkillers the size of beetles and picking up enough EpiPens to take down a horse, I finally made it home. El walked me to the door with his head down and hands in his pockets.
I think I traumatized him.
“Today was… eventful,” he said finally when we reached my porch. “We’re never stepping foot in that place again.”
I huffed a laugh and tried to lighten the mood. “Agreed. But the highlight of my day was you scarfing down that pudding cup. Peak middle-aged behavior.”
El scoffed. “I refuse to be judged by someone who can be taken down by something as simple as a peanut.”
Wow. My mouth fell open at his insult. “Peanuts aren’t even tree nuts, stupid.”
He looked shocked by my boldness, and we held each other’s eyes awkwardly. But ultimately, we both ended up laughing. The laughter scratched my damaged throat, and I started coughing dryly.
El’s amusement faded. “You okay?”
I nodded, clearing my throat. “Yeah, just need a good night’s sleep, and I’ll be right as rain.”
He looked like he wasn’t satisfied with my answer, but he eventually decided to let it go. “Okay. ”
“Hey.” I gave him a playful poke in the chest. “Thanks again. For everything. Seriously, I could never repay you.”
El smiled at the gesture. “You don’t have to, Ellie. But. I do have a bit of a weird request.”
“What is it?” I questioned, then tilted my head.
He hesitated, then said softly, “Can I… hold you?”
Oh.
Oh.
I blinked rapidly. “Hold me?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just for a minute.”
A strange warmth spread through my chest. His eyes held something I couldn’t place, but the closest feeling I could describe it as was infatuation.
“Oh. Um. Okay.”
He immediately pulled me into his arms, holding me firmly but carefully. In return, my hands slowly crept up his muscular arms, feeling his warm skin beneath my fingers as a strange comfort until they rested on his broad shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against my hair. “It’s just… the last time I had you in my arms, you were limp. My body still can’t register that you’re breathing now.”
I relaxed into his hold. “I understand.”
His arms tightened around me like he still needed the reassurance that I was really standing here, alive.
“This is nice,” he admitted.
“It is.” I inhaled. “You smell like vanilla and paper.”
He laughed lightly. “And you smell like the hospital.”
I let out a dry chuckle. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You usually smell like coconut and jasmine.”
He buried his nose into my neck, his eyelashes brushing my skin as he closed his eyes. A shiver ran down my spine.
“This is still nice, though,” he repeated quietly.
I swallowed hard. “Elliot…”
His grip didn’t loosen. “I thought I was going to lose you before we even started.”
I sighed at his words. He still didn’t get it. Nothing was starting between us. My hands dropped from the embrace, but he still held on.
“I’m so grateful you’re okay, Elliot. I prayed the whole run to the hospital.”
I pulled back slightly, frowning. “You ran? The whole way?”
He nodded. “Had to. With traffic, it was too risky to wait. Every second counted.”
He ran through the streets, carrying me to a hospital at least two miles away. Then, he waited for me to wake up, which could have been hours, and the nurse assured me he never left my side.
After that, he paid for all the medicine I received and drove me home without question.
The man was unbelievable. The man was intense. The man has shown me more care than people who have known me for years.
Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him again.
“Thank you so much. For everything.”
He squeezed me tightly, slightly lifting me off the ground. “Of course.”
There was something about the way he held me that just felt right.
It felt safe. Like his arms could protect me from all the dangers of the outside world.
Slowly and softly, he massaged my back with his fingertips.
Strong hands caressed from my shoulder to my waistline as he groaned faintly.
He was enjoying this more than he should.
In all honesty, so was I.
We stood like that for a moment longer, until the front door swung open. Panicked, I jerked away from El like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. It didn’t matter though; Esther didn’t even notice him.
“Elliot!” She stood in the doorway, her face pale with worry.
“Thank God you’re okay! You didn’t come in, so I checked at Lizzie’s, but she said you had an allergic reaction and didn’t know what hospital you were taken to.
I spent the whole day calling hospitals and handling your clients! I was so worried!”
My cheeks heated, still waving off the intimacy of the previous moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
Esther gasped as she rushed over to me. “Are you kidding? I’m just glad you’re okay!”
She went on and on, her words blurring together. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught El slowly backing away—probably to avoid being dragged into the chaos.
“Goodnight, Puddin',” I called out to him.
He chuckled, his lips curling at the nickname. “Goodnight, Peanut. Sleep well.”
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with Esther yapping my head off, heart unsteady, wondering why I suddenly missed his warmth.