Chapter - 4
LOGAN
I stood there, staring at my reflection in my bathroom mirror. My toothbrush hung loosely in my mouth as I listened to the last of Eloise’s voice memos. My hand halted mid-brush at the sound of Eloise’s giggly, intoxicated voice.
I was stunned.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I woke up this morning with three unheard voice messages from Eloise, sent directly to me and nobody else, but it sure wasn’t this. I had seen the notification on my phone, thought it was weird, and took a shower without listening. Once I was awake enough after my shower and started brushing my teeth, I finally listened to them. Which brought me to this moment, staring at myself blankly in the mirror.
Was she talking about me?
Did she mean to send these to me?
The time stamp said she sent these around four a.m., just four hours ago. Which was an odd time to masturbate to someone and send them voice memos about it. But I knew very little about Eloise at this point, so maybe this wasn’t that unusual for her.
“The communication barrier? Hot.”
I had never been told that my inability to vocalize was hot, but I guess everyone had their kinks.
“The protectiveness? Hot.”
She must have been talking about when I went after Monet, number eighteen, during the game last night. Courtney had signed to me during the game that he flipped them off for cheering me on, after stealing the puck from him. What I didn’t expect, however, was for him to retaliate by making crude gestures to my friends. I didn’t think twice, really. I dropped my gloves and swung.
He was labeled as the instigator since everyone could see his tongue swiping between his parted fingers as he made very specific and direct eye contact with the group. Even Josh looked a little pissed off, and that guy never got mad.
We each got five minutes in the penalty box as a result of our fight, but it was worth it. He was a young kid, barely in his twenties, and clearly had a chip on his shoulder. I had no problem putting him in his place.
I played Eloise’s next message again because I still couldn’t believe what I was listening to.
“The things I would let him do to me. I’m so glad I charged my vibrator recently. Hot. Damn!” the fact that she left me hanging after that message felt almost painful.
What?I thought. What would you let “him” do to you, specifically? Leave no detail out, please, and thank you. The mental image I was immediately able to create of Eloise pleasuring herself with a vibrator was alarming. Had I thought about her before? Yes. I hadn’t in a while, though. The last time I had thought that Eloise may be into me was almost a year ago after she smashed a plate of pie against my chest, and we were both in the bathroom cleaning up.
She had stormed off, probably to cry. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the first time I had unintentionally made her do so. I had gotten most of the pie off of my shirt in the kitchen sink and had found my way to the bathroom to try to rinse the stain out. Eloise was in there when I walked in, both of her hands bracing either edge of the bathroom sink as her head turned sharply to see who was interrupting her privacy.
I had stood frozen in the doorway, my chest wrenched at the red and water rimming her eyes as she glared at me.
Then she had looked down at my shirt and sniffed, stepping away to make room for me to move in front of the sink. I had been surprised she didn’t push me out of the bathroom, so I stiffly followed her instructions and turned on the tap. I had used my fingers to try to rub the stain out, which made Eloise roll her clear blue eyes at me in irritation before she had grabbed my shirt and taken over rinsing the stain out.
I was just surprised she wasn’t punching me at that point, so I stood there like an idiot and let her take over the task of washing my shirt.
After getting as much of the stain out as she could, she had pulled a towel off of the rack of Josh’s first-floor bathroom and tried to dry off my shirt as much as possible, her knuckles grazing the bare skin of my abdomen as she held my shirt with one hand and the dry towel with the other.
I thought about that touch too often.
I also thought about how she felt me up a few seconds later. Satisfied with how she was able to dry off my shirt enough, she then tugged the hem of it down. She brushed her hands over the front of my shirt in an attempt to straighten it and remove any unnecessary wrinkles.
Her fingertips pressed firmly against my chest and abdomen, and I held my breath as her eyes widened a little after the first pass of her hands.
Then she made a second pass, a third. That one felt more deliberate and exploratory. She brushed her fingers down my torso slower as her eyelids drooped the slightest bit, feeling the ridges of my muscles underneath the shirt.
Holy shit,I thought, she’s feeling me up.
My cock twitched in response, not understanding that we had absolutely no chance in hell with this woman.
Something made her snap out of it, pulling her hands back quickly and shooting me one last glare with her eyes before she slid past me and stormed out of the bathroom. I waited only a few seconds before following her out, brushing the moment off as nothing.
Have I gotten off to the thought of Eloise enjoying what she felt? Yes. More times than I’d like to admit. At first, I told myself it was because I was a guy, and that I was doomed to think dirty thoughts about a woman who enjoyed the feel of my body under her hands. I, later on, accepted that my gender had absolutely nothing to do with it and realized that I was simply attracted to Eloise.
Who wouldn’t be? She was a beautiful woman.
She was smaller and thinner than other women I usually preferred to hook up with. However, her smaller curves still caught my eye regularly. Especially the night of Courtney and Josh’s engagement party. The dress she wore was a light pink-colored thing that hid nothing about her body. I was an asshole that eyeballed her as much as I could when she wasn’t looking.
She wore this dress that exposed every line and curve of her body, smiling at the guests with what felt like the brightness of the sun. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was perfectly styled down. I was a guy, and I knew that “natural makeup” looks existed, but I would have bet all my money that because I could see her freckles, she wasn’t wearing makeup and her skin was naturally flawless. I knew my attraction to Eloise was unreciprocated, so I let the sleeping dog lie. If I had to control my thoughts around her, that was my own problem and I could deal with it. I could be mature about one-sided attraction and move on.
And for a while, I had.
But…these voice memos from her were insinuating that she wasn’t exactly as indifferent to me as I thought.
I played the last one, just to make myself suffer a little more. “I’m ruined. I can’t come back from this. Am I into grunting, pushy men with communication barriers now?” That was a great question, Eloise. One I’d like an answer to as soon as possible.
I had the feeling she didn’t mean to send these to me. She kept speaking about me as if I was in the third person, and she was clearly a little drunk. But why else would she accidentally send these to me if I wasn’t already on her mind?
Or was I just trying to make this into something I was clearly hopeful for?
I spiraled about the messages for a few hours. I decided not to respond right away and instead went for a jog to ponder the situation. I was already planning on going to the gym with Courtney tomorrow evening before her work week started, and the off-season was starting for me, so I didn’t need to overdo it.
I thought about Eloise for the entirety of the run. I had music playing in my earbuds, an attempt for a small distraction from the curveball she had thrown at me early this morning.
What if she meant what she said?
What if my suspicion was right and she was talking about me? That she thought about me when she was alone with herself at night.
What if…she didn’t exactly want to be alone as she thought about me at night?
The thought of those blue eyes looking at me with anything other than anger or irritation made my heart race irregularly in my chest, and I had to pause and catch my breath, my hands going to my waist as I breathed through my nose and out my mouth.
My phone buzzed against my bicep, where it was securely strapped to my arm for my run. I silenced the call; it was just my annoying agent. He probably had more sponsorship ideas for me, but I was too busy thinking about Eloise Bane to focus on anything work-related during the beginning of the off-season.
Eloise, and her full, light pink lips. And how they would feel.
Eloise, and her cropped light blonde hair that looked delicately soft to the touch.
Eloise and her tattoos that I only knew about because Courtney had mentioned them, but wouldn’t hate to see for myself.
Fuck, I wanted Eloise.
Finally, I gathered some bravery before I decided to head home and typed a message back to her. Nodding my head once, I took off, trying not to think too hard about other various forms of exercise I would be willing to try out with Eloise if she was truly open to it.