Chapter 38 Eleanor
ELEANOR
By the time we reached Alex’s car, every part of me was making its opinion known.
My hip throbbed. My thigh felt like it had been kissed by a truck.
My shoulders were tight from bracing against hits.
I walked anyway, head high, because yeah—I hurt, but I’d also done it.
I’d survived. I’d skated. I’d gotten back up.
The drive to his place was quiet in that good, humming way. My body buzzed with adrenaline even as it sank into exhaustion. When we pulled into his driveway, he was out of the car before I’d even unbuckled, opening my door like I was precious cargo.
Inside, he handed me a towel and pointed me toward the bathroom. “Shower. I’ll get everything else.”
Everything else turned out to be a very serious phrase.
In the bathroom, I peeled off my clothes and stared at myself in the mirror. Sweat-streaked, hair wild, eyes bright. On my thigh, a bruise was already blooming that was purple and blue, and undeniable.
I touched it gently.
I had never been proud of a bruise before.
This one felt like proof. Proof that I’d been out there. That I’d taken up space. That I’d been hit and hadn’t stopped.
The shower was hot and heavenly, easing the worst of the ache out of my muscles. I stood there longer than I meant to, letting the water wash away the noise and fear and adrenaline, until I felt almost human again.
When I finally came out wrapped in a towel around my hair, Alex was waiting in his living room like some kind of soft-hearted battlefield medic.
His coffee table was covered in supplies. Ibuprofen, ice packs, a heating pad, and a glass of water were ready for me.
He looked up at me, all gentle concern and warm eyes. “Okay,” he said. “What do you need?”
My chest did something stupid and tender.
I walked toward him slowly, feeling sore and proud and oddly brave all at once.
I sank down onto the couch beside him, moving carefully like my body was made of glass instead of bone and muscle. Alex knelt in front of the coffee table, popping open a bottle of ibuprofen and handing me two pills and the glass of water.
“Here,” he said softly.
I took them, then reached for one of the ice packs and pressed it to my hip with a grateful sigh. “You didn’t have to do all this,” I murmured.
“You got hit by a freight train in roller skates,” he said. “I absolutely had to do all this.”
I huffed a weak laugh, then winced. “I’m sorry I kind of . . . ruined our date.”
He looked at me like I’d just suggested setting a puppy on fire. “Nonsense. You didn’t ruin anything.”
Before I could argue, he leaned forward and lit a small candle on the coffee table. Then he pulled out his phone, tapped a few things, and soft, low music drifted into the room.
And right on cue, there was a knock at the door.
Alex’s mouth curved into that smug, sweet smile. He went to answer it and came back carrying two to-go containers and a paper bag that smelled like heaven.
“Chicken parm and breadsticks,” he said. “From the place I was going to take you to.”
I swooned. Of course, he’d planned this. Of course, he’d thought ahead. Of course, he’d pivoted without making me feel like I’d failed him.
God, he was perfect.
Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.
Alex froze. “Oh—fuck. Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I said quickly, wiping at my face. “No, it’s fine. I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m just . . . ignore me.”
“You had a big day,” he said gently as he handed me one of the containers. “Big emotions. Big hits.”
I nodded, because it was easier than explaining the truth.
The truth was messier. I liked him. Maybe more than liked him. And that felt dangerous, like I was stepping onto sacred ground that still belonged to Ethan. Like wanting this, him, this life, was somehow a betrayal.
I was sore and scared and falling for a man who kept showing up for me, and I didn’t know how to hold all of that at once.
So I didn’t.
I opened the container and took a bite.
The chicken was hot and perfect, the sauce rich and comforting, and it made me feel just a little more real again.
Alex smiled at me across the coffee table, warm and hopeful. “So,” he asked softly, “how does it feel being a Reaper?”
I swallowed, ice pack pressed to my hip, heart thudding in my chest.
“Painful,” I said finally. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ll never sit normally again, but I’m proud of myself.”
Alex’s eyes softened. “You should be. You were incredible.”
I snorted. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m absolutely not,” he said, leaning back like he was about to give a very serious TED Talk. “You had good edge control, you didn’t panic when Belle came at you, and you kept your shoulders square through contact. Most people fold the first time they get hit.”
I blinked at him.
“You got up fast,” he continued. “You kept driving forward. That’s jammer instinct. You see a hole, and you go for it.”
A smile tugged at my mouth before I could stop it.
Alex tilted his head. “What?”
“What what?”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
I didn’t have words for it. For being seen like that. For being admired not just for surviving, but for being good.
So instead, I leaned forward and kissed him.
It was soft and sure and a little shaky, like I was saying thank you and I want you and I’m here all at once.
By the time the containers were empty and the candle had burned low, we were just sitting on the couch, my feet in his lap as he massaged them.
The conversation easily flowed, talking about everything and nothing.
Ava. His job. My new publishing deal. The kind of ordinary, fragile dreams you only shared when you felt safe.
Somehow the conversation drifted to my mom, and I let out a long, tired sigh.
“I can’t wait to get out of there,” I admitted. “She’s getting so much worse. It’s not good for Ava. It’s not good for me.”
Alex was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he said, carefully, “You know . . . you could live here.”
I stared at him. “You mentioned that before.”
He blinked, suddenly flustered. “I mean—not with me. Not like—unless you wanted to. I just—” He gestured vaguely. “The other half of the duplex is empty. It’s been empty for months. You and Ava would be more than welcome.”
“I don't know . . . I feel like I would be taking advantage of you,” I said weakly.
“No,” he said immediately. “You wouldn’t. I’d love it. I mean, not in a creepy landlord way. In a—I want you safe and happy and close kind of way.”
I smiled, heart fluttering, and bit my lip.
Prince Charming, in sweatpants and a Glendale Magic hockey hoodie.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “It’s . . . something to think about.”
I leaned over and kissed him. This one was slower, deeper, the kind that carried everything I hadn’t figured out how to say yet.
Alex’s hand came up to my jaw, warm and steady, thumb brushing my cheek like he was memorizing me. I could feel the heat of him, the want, the tenderness all tangled together.
His hand slid to my waist. Mine curled into his hoodie. For a second, the world narrowed down to breath and lips and the soft sound we made when we leaned closer.
And then I pulled back.
Not because I didn’t want him.
Because I wanted him too much.
Alex didn’t push. Didn’t look hurt or confused. He just nodded once, gentle as always. “I’ll grab us fresh drinks.”
He stood and went into the kitchen like this was the most normal thing in the world.
I sat there, heart pounding, ice pack forgotten on the couch beside me.
Okay, Eleanor. Big girl time.
I wasn’t betraying anyone by wanting this. I wasn’t erasing Ethan. I was still allowed to be alive. To want touch. To want warmth. To want a man who looked at me like I was something precious.
I wanted Alex.
I wanted him in my life. In my bed. In my future, however messy that future was.
When he came back with two glasses, I took a breath.
“Hey,” I said, my voice a little shaky. “I need to tell you something.”
He stilled instantly, giving me his full attention.
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “But, I think I’m ready.”
His eyes softened. “Are you sure?”
“I want . . . us. I want to be with you. In every way. Even the physical ones.”
I sat up and pulled him closer. The air was thick between us. I wanted him.
Leaning forward, I kiss him before pulling back to look at him. “Take me to your bed.”
He stood and helped me up off the couch.
I followed him into the bedroom, my heart thumping loudly with each step.
As I entered, I took it in. It smelled like him.
The bed was made with a plain navy blue comforter.
A chair with a little side table sat in the corner with some fantasy books stacked on it and a pair of reading glasses.
Along the other wall was a dresser with another small stack of books and two framed pictures, one of Leo as a baby and the other of him and Leo that looked like it had been taken a few years ago.
It was sparse, but homy at the same time.
I jumped as his arms slid around my waist, holding my back to his front. I panicked for just a moment, but then I felt his hard length pressing into my back, and that panic was replaced by heat.
I turned in his arms and kissed him. He was being tender with me.
I’m sure there would be a time when I didn’t crave his tenderness, but right now I sank into it.
The feeling of being taken care of filling me completely.
I kissed him and began to pull at the hem of his shirt.
I was ready for something else to fill me.
He pulled back and slipped his shirt over his head. I smiled, taking him in. His chest had a sparse bit of curly dark hair, and his stomach a little softness to it. He was perfect. He was real.
He nodded to my shirt, and I did the same. Lifting it off, exposing myself to him. My breasts that hung a little too heavy, my soft, round stomach with stretchmarks, all of it.
“Eleanor, you are perfect,” he said as he took one of my breasts in his hand and stepped into me, kissing me.
His tongue licked into my mouth as he walked me back. The back of my legs hit his bed, and I landed with a huff.
“Are you okay?” he asked quickly, worrying I might be in pain and stiff from the match.
But I wasn’t. The only sensation registering in my body right now was lust. I reached up and pulled him down as we scooted to the top of the bed.
He got under the covers as we kissed. His hands roamed my body, igniting the fire even more.
I began to pull and wiggle out of my pants. He helps me slide them off.
The next thing I knew, we were naked in his bed. His hand slid down and dipped into my core. There would be a night for foreplay. I’m sure I would crave them soon, but right now I need him to fill me. I needed it more than I remembered needing anything.
“Alex, please! I need you,” I said, pulling him on top of me.
“Okay, baby, I’m right here. Do I need a condom?”
“I have an IUD. I trust you. It’s up to you.”
He kissed me and notched himself at my entrance. The feel of his blunt cock had me rocking, trying to take him, but he just stayed there, still, and kissed me.
He pulled back and looked at me. His eyes were filled with such reverence that it almost took my breath away. “Are you ready?”
I nodded.
Then he began to push in. I moaned at the pleasure. I rocked my hips, feeling more of him slip in. He then began to push in, slowly, stretching me, filling me.
He kissed me as he continued to pump in and out of me. I opened myself to him. Allowing him to see me and feel me in the way felt healing. Then he shifted and hit the blessed spot deep inside me. I wrapped my legs around him.
Between him hitting deep inside me and the friction of him grinding into me, I was about to come undone.
“Alex!’ I cried out as I met him thrust for thrust.
“That’s it, baby. Let go,” he said as he kissed and sucked the side of my throat.
That was it. I came about. My orgasm came barreling through me. He pulled back and looked at me.
“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty when you come.”
And I kept coming, kept pulsing as he picked up his pace, thrusting into me deeper, faster, until he collapsed on my shoulder, his body clenching as he filled me.
He propped himself up on his elbows and kissed me. “Are you okay?”
“Perfect,” I hummed, still in the afterglow of what had just happened.
After we both cleaned up, we climbed back into bed. “Do you need anything?”
“Just you,” I said, settling down in bed.
“Oh, you have me,” he said in a low, comforting voice as he pulled me to him, spooning me closely.
I drifted off to sleep feeling held and cared for. It was a feeling I could get used to.