Chapter 13 #2
My blood is pumping so hard that I can hear it in my ears. My eyes are locked on my sister, and for a moment, I debate telling her about the kiss, about how I can’t stop thinking about it.
But I decide not to—because until I know what I want to do about it, it needs to stay between me and Elodie.
Hell, I don’t even know how she feels about it.
I know she kissed me back, I know that she was clawing at me just as desperately as I was at her, and I know that her eyes told me she wanted more when we were done.
But what happens next?
The physical attraction toward her has been fueling my decisions thus far. Now I need to decide if the emotional attraction is worth exploring too.
The truth is, I care about Elodie, and that’s a foreign feeling for me.
The small circle of people I let in is small for a reason: it means there’s a reduced chance of being hurt.
But can I make room for one more person in that group?
And does Elodie even want that? Is it worth letting her in if she just plans on leaving anyway?
“Are you bringing Elodie to Fletcher’s game in a few weeks?”
“I—I haven’t decided yet. I asked him to secure a ticket for her but haven’t asked her.”
“I think you should. And I think you should show her that you care about her too.” She lifts her eyebrow again, flashing me that knowing look. “Also, see if Carol and Nick want to watch Remy that weekend so you can get a little break.”
“I don’t need a break from her.”
Dilynne puts her hand on top of mine. “Yes, you do. You might not think so, but Steven told me you need to make sure you get time away. I guess he and his wife make a point to do one outing a month just the two of them, no kids. Chelsea struggles with the guilt, but after they get that break, they always feel like better parents.”
She releases my hand and stands from the swing. “Remember, I’m just trying to make sure you’re taking care of yourself as well. Now, I’m going to practice holding my niece so one day you’ll let me babysit her too.”
I watch my sister move back inside the house, but I can’t force myself to get up out of my chair yet.
Fuck. Maybe Dilynne is right. Maybe I do need a break. Maybe taking Elodie to the game without the baby will give us both a break.
And maybe Elodie’s anger is her reaction to fighting her feelings as well.
That’s when inspiration strikes, and I instantly know what I need to do.
Words may not be my forte, but actions are. And it’s time to do something about these feelings and show her that I care, even if I’m risking a lot of pain in the process.
***
“Shit.” Another splatter of pink paint hits my arm as I push the roller against the wall. Apparently, I forgot that less paint on the roller is better because this is the fourth time I’ve painted myself pink.
Twisting around, I peer down at Remy lying on her playmat, kicking and making noises, oblivious to what I’m going through. “I sure hope you like this room when it’s done, baby bear, because I’m never painting it again.”
It’s just after five in the evening, and I’ve been in this spare bedroom since we got home from Carol and Nick’s. As soon as Remy threw up on Dilynne and she freaked out, I knew that was my cue to leave and try to make a statement to my nanny.
The sound of the front door opening and closing alerts me that Elodie must be home.
Shit.
I was hoping to have this done, but painting a room while taking care of a four-month-old is no small feat.
“Henley?” Elodie calls out from the front of the house.
“I’m in Remy’s room!”
Her footsteps travel down the hallway and when she finally peeks her head through the doorway, my heart lunges at the sight of her.
God, she’s so fucking gorgeous—that long, dark hair, those gray eyes, and those lips that I can still taste. But she’s so much more than her looks.
Her heart is so big that I’m afraid it might swallow me whole. Her sarcasm makes me want to know the next thing she’s going to say, and she’s so fucking smart that she makes me feel inadequate.
Yeah, this is so much more than physical attraction. I’m so fucking screwed.
I’ve never really looked at a woman beyond the physical need we could both satisfy for one another, but Elodie makes me question just how surface level my life has been until she and Remy entered it.
And now that she’s back in my house, I can honestly say that I’m really fucking glad she’s home.
“Henley? You do realize that half of you is covered in pink paint, right?”
“Yes, El. I’m aware.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, smirking at me. “Okay, just making sure.” Moving her eyes around the room, she asks, “What inspired this?”
I set the paint roller down in the tray and grab the rag off of the ladder, wiping paint from my skin while making my way over to her. Remy is still babbling, but Elodie and I are focused on each other.
“My daughter needs a room, like you said. So, I thought pink would be a good color, but I don’t know what else to do.” Shrugging, I reach out and gently tuck my fingers under Elodie’s chin to keep her eyes on mine. “I—I need your help, Elodie, yet again.”
There’s such a loaded meaning to that statement, and when Elodie smiles up at me, I feel like I made the right decision today by finally doing something.
“Yes, I can help you, Henley,” she says softly.
“Good.” My eyes drop down to her lips, the strongest urge to kiss her again coming over me.
Remy starts to grow fussy on her playmat, which checks out. I usually get about ten to fifteen minutes before she’s grown bored and needs something else to entertain her.
Elodie turns her attention to my daughter, bending over to pick her up from the floor. “Hey, baby bear. I missed you today,” she says while placing a kiss on her chubby cheek. “Glad you seem to be doing better.”
“She is. The medicine has done wonders for her mood, and Carol got her to nap for almost two hours earlier, thank God.”
“Is that where you were? Carol and Nick’s?”
“Yeah. We went over for breakfast. They wanted to see Remy for a bit and Dilynne is obsessed with Carol’s cooking.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her shoulders fall slightly.
“Sorry I forgot to tell you about that yesterday, but with the ER visit and…” I don’t want her to think I was avoiding her because she did anything wrong. I’m the one who did and I fucking hate if I’ve made her question that.
The smile she offers me is quick and small, but it’s there. “It’s fine, Henley. You’re allowed to visit your family.”
Our conversation comes to a halt, almost as if neither one of us knows what to say next.
I hate this awkwardness, but the words aren’t there.
All I can focus on is the pounding in my chest while watching her hold my daughter and simultaneously wishing Remy was asleep so I could put my mouth on her on places other than her lips.
But I can’t focus on the physical need anymore because this is so much more than that. And until I can put a name to it, I need to keep my hands and mouth to myself.
“Well, uh…I’m gonna try to get this room done before I pass out later,” I say, tossing my thumb over my shoulder.
“Yeah. Good idea. Remy and I are just gonna hang out then, won’t we, baby bear?” Elodie peers down at my daughter again before moving toward the door.
But before I can think twice, I blurt out, “Stay.”
Elodie freezes. “What?”
“Stay, El. Please.” I swallow roughly, the lump in my throat swelling as I read the confusion on her face. “Help me decide what else the room needs.”
She licks her lips while she contemplates her decision. But when she moves toward the rocking chair and takes a seat, a wave of relief rolls through me. “I mean, I guess I could watch you attempt to get the paint on the wall instead of you. It’s like free entertainment.”
Elodie’s comment makes me smirk as she holds and talks to my daughter. I turn back to my task and pick up our conversation like normal, hoping the control I found again today will last longer than it did last time.