Chapter 14 Stay
Stay.
Friday night was supposed to be mine.
Esther was out with her football fling, so I had the house to myself. Just me, my bonnet, and the thick layer of cooling clay tightening on my face.
The thirty-dollar candle I bought earlier today filled the room with the scent of lavender and honey.
Soft jazz smoothly poured out of my portable speaker set on my coffee table.
I sank into the couch as my silk robe brushed against my skin, and for the first time in weeks, I relaxed. No stress. No overthinking. No—
Knock, knock, knock.
Shit. I groaned. Ignore it. If it was important, they’d call.
The knocking came again, firmer this time. Then again. And again.
Alright!
Rolling my eyes, I dragged myself off the couch, tightening my robe as I padded barefoot to the door in annoyance.
Did Esther forget her keys again?
It’s possible. Whenever her football player was in town, she became ditzy.
The second I cracked it open, my stomach dropped.
Standing in my doorway like he belonged there, wearing gray sweats with a black shirt and durag tied neatly at the back, was Elliot. His dark, turquoise eyes swept over me, his lips barely curving like he was fighting back a smirk.
“Hi, Peanut.”
Panicked, I slammed the door in his face. It had been a day since the almond milk incident, and I had been trying to limit our interactions. I wasn’t completely ignoring him, I still answered his calls and texts. However, after that feeling washed over me when we hugged, I kept my distance.
“Damn,” he said, voice muffled through the wood. “It’s like that?”
I took a deep breath, pressing my fingers into my temples. I should’ve ignored the door and pretended I wasn’t home.
“You can’t just show up like this,” I called out.
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“Liar.”
A beat of silence. Then, softer, “Okay, I lied. I came to check on you.”
My grip tightened on the doorknob. “Why?”
“Because, Elliot,” he said, voice calm, “I want to make sure you’re okay. I want to see how you’re doing after the hospital.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
Damn it. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“I’m fine, Elliot,” I said because anything else would invite more questions.
“Can I spend some time with you?”
I glanced at my reflection in the hallway mirror. My face mask had started cracking, my hair was in rolls under my bonnet, and my robe hung just a little too loosely off one shoulder, exposing my black satin nightgown underneath.
I looked ridiculous.
“Um,” I hummed, crossing my arms. “I’m a little preoccupied with some self-care.”
Elliot didn’t miss a beat. “Okay. Can I spend time with you?”
I turned back toward the door. “I’m not presentable right now.”
“I don’t care about that, Ellie,” he declared with a little too much bass in his voice. “I just wanna hang out.” He paused, then said, “I brought Thai food.”
I exhaled sharply through my nose.
Slowly, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
“There she is,” he sang with a grin as he took in my appearance. I stuck out my tongue in a childish way, and he chuckled. His eyes found mine, and something unfamiliar but comfortable passed between us before he lifted the brown takeout bag as bait.
“Can I come in now?” he asked.
I sighed and stepped aside.
As he walked in, he glanced at my face again and smirked. “Can I get one of those face masks, too?”
I stood by the kitchen counter, bottles in hand. “White wine or rosé?”
Elliot barely looked up from unpacking the food onto the coffee table. “White. Rosé is too sweet.”
“Okay.” I grabbed two glasses and the bottle, carrying them over to the couch where he had already made himself comfortable. He sat back, legs spread, unbothered as I sat next to him, careful to avoid unnecessary touching.
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I told them to give me the most popular stuff but only options without nuts.” He shook his head, almost impressed. “You’d be surprised how many foods have it.”
I plucked a skewer of chicken satay from one of the containers. “Not really. I lived in Thailand, remember?”
Elliot narrowed his eyes. “Show-off.”
I giggled, biting into the chicken. Then, an alert went off, and El pulled out his phone. His jaw ticked as he checked the screen, then he muttered a curse under his breath.
I leaned in slightly. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He exhaled through his nose. “Just my blood sugar’s low. I need to eat.”
Without another word, he unboxed one of the meals and started eating. In a way, he handled it so smoothly, like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it kind of was.
It was fascinating.
We ate in silence for a moment, but curiosity clawed at me until I couldn’t hold it in.
“El?”
He glanced up from the plate. “Yes, Ellie?”
“Can you tell me how it works?”
His brows inched up. “What works?”
I hesitated, then motioned towards my own upper arm to signal I was talking about the device behind his. He lifted his arm to give me a better view.
“Oh, this? What do you wanna know about it?”
“What does it do?”
“A lot.” El wiped his hands on a napkin, then picked up his phone and unlocked it without caring if I saw his passcode or not, turning the screen to show me.
“See this?” He tapped on an app. A graph filled the screen, a line shifting up and down across the chart.
“This is my CGM. Or Dexcom.” He motioned to the white disc on his upper arm. “And this—” he rolled up his shirt to expose the patch on his stomach “—is my insulin pump. Very expensive, by the way.”
I tilted my head, absorbing the information. “Okay… and what do they do?”
“The CGM tracks my blood sugar all day and sends the data to the pod.” He flicked his fingers toward the one on his stomach. “Then the pod decides how much insulin I need and delivers it automatically.”
I blinked. “So you don’t have to do anything?”
“Not unless my sugar goes crazy or something malfunctions. Then I gotta step in.” He explained, then went back to eating like it was nothing, but I wasn’t done yet.
“Does it hurt?”
He smirked, shaking his head. “Not really. The needles are tiny.”
“How long have you had it?”
“The pod? Six months.”
“How often do you have to change it?”
El finally looked up from his food, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You always this nosey?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I need to know all the details in case something happens.”
He smiled, the amusement still lingering. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight, I promise. Let’s just watch a movie or something, okay?”
With a deep pout, I let up. “Fine. What do you want to watch?”
He shrugged and said, “It’s your house. You decide.”
I raised a brow. “Well, you’re the uninvited guest. You decide.”
He laughed, deep and easy. “I’m good with whatever you pick, Peanut.”
“Not this highly offensive nickname again.” I groaned.
“What, peanuts offend you?”
“It does, actually. You don’t see me making fun of your medical conditions. What if I started calling you sugar? How’d that make you feel?”
He smirked. “Actually, you calling me sugar in that Southern accent is very sexy.”
I shot him my middle finger, and Elliot caught my hand in his, squeezing lightly. My heart raced instantly in his hold, heat rushing to my face.
So much for avoiding touch.
“You shouldn’t be rude to guests, uninvited or not.
” He rubbed his thumb delicately and deliberately over my knuckles in a soothing way while he reprimanded me.
Electricity shot through me, hammering my pulse in his hold.
We locked eyes. His deep, thoughtful gaze had the smart retort I had lined up stuck in my throat.
The way he didn’t look fazed by this at all made it worse.
Was I so touch-starved that simply hand-holding had my nerves on edge?
“You started it.” I cleared my throat and pulled away, shaking my head free of thoughts that came rushing in from his grasp. “I’m gonna go get the face mask. Pick a movie. I wanna watch something funny.”
He didn’t say anything as I quickly got up and practically ran up the stairs to my room.
Once I was inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.
The warmth of his thumbs gliding over my hand lingered.
Involuntarily, my hand flexed at the phantom sensation, almost as if longing for more.
A chill ran through me, and I decided to wash my face, both to remove the dried mask and to clear my mind.
He’s just a man, and we’re just going to watch a movie, I reminded myself. There’s no need to get worked up and no need to question things I’ve decided on years ago.
By the time I returned, he had White Chicks queued up on the screen. I stopped mid-step, frowning.
“What is this?”
Elliot turned to me like I had personally offended him. “You’ve never seen White Chicks?”
My nose scrunched. “No.”
“Elliot, don’t bullshit me. Who hasn’t seen White Chicks?”
I shrugged. “Ma didn’t really like us watching these kinds of movies.”
His expression softened, but only for a second before he grabbed the remote. “Well, your Ma ain’t here. So, we’re watching it.”
I sighed but didn’t argue, sitting beside him as I twisted open the face mask jar.
“Come here and close your eyes,” I ordered.
Part of me thought he would argue against my demands, and I even hoped he’d fight back a little. But to my surprise, he did as he was told without question. Honestly, I was disappointed by his quick submission. I liked our occasional bickering.
Still, I dipped my fingers into the cool cream and started applying it to his smooth skin, working in slow circles and trying my best to ignore the tingles of my fingertips.
I watched him closely before speaking.
“So. Why’d you even come here?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
His answer was immediate. “I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Again—why?”
He opened his eyes and met my gaze, his expression unreadable. “Because I like you, Ellie.”
I inhaled sharply, choking on absolutely nothing but air.