Chapter 32 #2
Don’t hackers need a last name or a birthday or even a social security number? I go back to that weekend in Vegas and try to recall if Elliot and I happened to exchange that information. I honestly can’t remember. Maybe he caught my full name when I was carded at the bar.
That would explain how he knows my birthday.
“Don’t hackers need some base information to find anything? Did you take a mental picture of my ID or something?”
His shoulders fall a bit as he cringes. “Seeing your ID would have been easier,” he grumbles. “He was able to find you with your first name, the hotel you stayed at, and your room number.”
“And what did he find?”
Did Elliot know about Jack before I told him? Does he know about the hospital incident? Was every story I told him about me something he already knew?
“Full name. Address. Phone number. Birthday. Where you bank. Place of employment and where you went to school.”
“That’s it?”
“I may also know the names of your parents,” he adds sheepishly. “But that’s it, I swear.”
I’m honestly impressed someone was able to find all that information with a room number.
“What did you do with that information?”
He looks me straight in the eyes when he answers. “Nothing.”
My eyebrows raise. “Nothing?”
“No. I wanted to. Trust me, there were plenty of moments, times when I wanted to use the phone number and ask you to dinner. I even went to Austin a time or two, hoping I would see you, but that’s it.”
He went to Austin hoping to see me. He had all my information, knew every last detail about me, yet he didn’t use it.
“Why?” I ask. It’s a simple question, but there could be so many answers.
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you call me? Why did you go to Austin and not track me down? Why do any of it?”
So many whys.
If I had to ask myself a why, it would be, why do I feel like I want to accept this?
He invaded my privacy.
He went behind my back. What he did is illegal and concerning. I shouldn’t accept it, but I want to believe him when he says he did nothing with my information. I just need to know the why to believe him completely.
Before he says anything, Elliot gives me a small, beautiful smile.
“I did it because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
I was desperate to know every ounce of you.
When I left, it felt like I couldn’t function.
I was kicking myself for not getting your last name or phone number.
So, I went to the one person who could help me.
” He pauses, taking a step closer and tucking a strand of my loose hair behind my ear.
As he does it, a shiver escapes me. “I didn’t use the phone number or even approach you because it didn’t seem right, inserting myself into your life if it wasn’t something you wanted. ”
I feel a small smile start to form on my face.
“Can I confess something?” I say, looking up at him from under my lashes.
“Of course.”
“You one hundred percent could have inserted yourself. I spent a whole month after Vegas obsessively looking at who was buying property there to find you.”
He gives me his own half smile that is just as sexy as his smirk. “Did you now? And did you find anything?”
I shake my head. “No.”
I don’t tell him the only reason I stopped was because I was distracted by Jack and his advances. I had told myself the next time I saw Santos, I was going to ask him for Elliot’s information, but I didn’t end up seeing him until months later, and by that time I didn’t want anything to do with men.
“Maybe I should have used the number then,” he voices, eyeing me, his hand moving to take mine.
“Maybe you should have. You could have also asked Santos for my information instead of having your brother hack his way through Vegas.”
He shrugs. “I could have, but the broody bastard wouldn’t have given it to me.”
That is true.
I’m pretty sure Santos would have just ignored him.
If he had contacted me, though, would life have been different? Would I have gone through what I did? Would I have fallen for Jack’s advances and fled Austin to get away from him? Would I still be there, or would Chicago be my new home like it somewhat is now?
Maybe with having him in my life in those months after Vegas, my life would have been different, maybe it wouldn’t.
“Did you know I was in Chicago?” I ask, curious if we’re standing in the same room now because of divine intervention or because it was something forced.
Elliot drops my hand. “Yes. Drake told me a few weeks into your assignment at the hospital.”
“And did you ask Grayson to tell Sophia to approach me about working with him?”
His face fills with sincerity as he shakes his head. “No. I did mention he should get a nurse, but he went to Sophia himself. I had no part in that, I swear. I didn’t even know he knew Sophia or that she was a nurse.”
He planted the seed, and apparently, fate made it grow.
“Did you also use Drake to hack into Tiffany’s and Chanel to see what I bought?”
A smirk is thrown my way. “No. That, I got from your phone.”
“My phone?”
“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “You don’t have a passcode, and I may have looked at your email after you went to sleep the night of the gala and found the orders.”
I guess I can’t fault him for that, I would have done the same thing.
Besides, I did snoop around his place when he wasn’t there, so that somewhat makes us even.
“What are you thinking?” His question takes me out of my thoughts.
He’s closer to me when I focus on him again. I had zoned out for a few seconds, my eyes staring at the beautiful vase filled with flowers by the stairs.
Like with most cases when it comes to Elliot, I find myself telling him the truth.
“I’m thinking I should be mad at you. You invaded my privacy. I should very much do what you were afraid I’d do: walk out of here and make sure you never see me again.” I don’t want to do that.
I want to stay and have dinner with his family.
I want to ask his siblings for stories about him.
I want to see pictures of him as a kid.
I want to talk about him being mine and what it would mean if we put a label on this thing between us.
I want to tell him I’m thinking of staying in Chicago longer than my contract at the hospital.
“There’s a but in that statement,” he states, and I give him a nod as I smile up at him.
“But I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you.”
His hand makes itself at home on my forearm, slowly traveling up until he reaches the side of my neck. “You do? Because I agree with you—you should be mad at me.”
I give him a smile and step even closer to him. “I should, but I’m not. Well, not enough to walk away. I want to be here with you.”
A smirk takes over his face. “I want you to be here with me too.”
My smile grows a bit more when he leans down and kisses me. It’s simple, almost chaste, but it does more to me than any other kiss I’ve ever received.
I love it more than I care to admit.
The longer I feel his lips pressed against mine, the more I want to cure my allergy of commitment and give this man everything I told myself I would never give to another person.
Elliot is it, I think, and I want to see it through.
Jack destroyed me, and even though I am and have been repairing myself, Elliot is helping me.
When he pulls away, he gives me a smile I wish I could see until the end of time.
“Let’s head to the dining room,” he says, nodding to rest of the house. “I’m sure my siblings are itching to ask why you’re even entertaining me.”
I don’t tell him, but that sounds like a good time to me, even though I’m sure he sees it as torture.
“Lead the way. I said I would go anywhere with you,” I say, sliding my hand into his.
The second he walks me through the house he spent years of his life in, I get the feeling he is leading me to something a lot bigger than just a dinner with his family.