40. Hurt/Comfort – Aurora
40
HURT/COMFORT
AURORA
I listen for Atticus when I go back inside, but the kitchen and the hall leading to his office are both quiet and still. I wonder where he sleeps. Elijah’s room is on the main floor, and I’ve seen Seven coming out of the room on the opposite end of the upstairs hall from where I’m staying, but I don’t have a clue where Atticus’ bedroom might be.
During Elijah’s tour and while nosing around looking for things to clean, I never saw another bedroom. I’m thinking maybe I’ll see if Seven’s bedroom light is on as I trudge through to the main entryway. Anything has to be better than staring at the ceiling for another few hours, right?
I should be tired. I really should be, but I can’t seem to shut my brain?—
Pausing with my foot on the bottom stair, I frown at the light I can see way down the hall. I thought Elijah was asleep.
My throat grows thick.
How could he be after rehashing all of that?
Licking my dry lips, I pad quietly down the hall toward the light. When I’m close enough, I find it’s not coming from beneath his bedroom door, but from the door that leads to his connected art studio.
I almost turn around. What if he’s painting? I shouldn’t interrupt him if he is. I chew my lower lip, turning away just to turn right back to the closed door again.
Fuck.
I let out my held breath and rap gently on the door. “Elijah?”
On the other side something moves and then soft footsteps rush to the door, opening it wide.
I tuck my hair back and try to look more sure than I feel. “Hi.”
Elijah’s lips twitch into an attempt at a smile. “Hey, Angel.”
Even with the tension still clinging to his face, he looks kind of adorable. It’s clear that like me, he tried to sleep. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and the T-shirt he had on earlier. His hair is all tousled and his eyes are sleepy.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. Do you… Would you want some company?”
“I’d love some,” he says, stepping out of the way for me to enter the studio.
My stomach flips when I cross the threshold. I really thought I’d never come back in this room—definitely not of my own volition—but holy shit…
“It looks great in here,” I can’t help but comment. And it’s true. Every speck of spilled paint has been cleaned from the floor and the walls. The broken easels and paintbrushes are gone. The paintings, too. It’s just a big empty space now with nothing but the massive windows looking out over the side of the property to interrupt the blank walls.
“Yeah, I, uh, I cleaned it all up after you left that day. Well, actually, Sev helped, too.”
His voice, even though it’s low, echoes in the room. Probably because of the odd shape of it. Like an octagon that’s long through the middle.
I notice he’s holding his phone in his other hand and wonder when Atticus gave it back. Elijah said he’d have to check them all for spyware before we could use them again. I guess his was clean.
“Well, you guys did a really good job.”
He drops his head and lets out a little snort, then seems to remember something. “Hey, come here.”
Elijah slips his hand into mine and pulls me to the windows. “Sit right there.”
I lift a brow, but fold myself onto the floor and cross my legs, glancing up at him with laughter in my throat. “Now what?”
“One sec.”
He rushes back over to the door and shuts it. My belly flutters.
Then he gets the lights, plunging the room into darkness.
No…not quite darkness.
Elijah brushes against my side as he sits next to me and sets down his phone. “I used to love coming in here after dark to watch the stars.”
I don’t tell him I’ve just seen them outside on the pool deck. I don’t want to ruin this for him. Besides, through the tall, angled glass panes of his studio windows, they look different. Sort of romantic. It really is a great view.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Yeah. I love it out here. Reminds me of home.”
“The house where you grew up?”
He nods. “It’s secluded, too. Granted, not as secluded, but the stars were always bright there—like this.”
Next to him, his phone vibrates and he lifts it to read a message on the screen, some of the tension creeping back over his jawline.
“What is it?”
“My dad,” he says. “It’s his nurse. He’s been lucid for a couple of days now. He’s asking to see me.”
My heart hurts for him. “Will you go?”
He lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. Probably. Last time, I didn’t make it before he was gone again. We always try to go when he remembers.”
I’m not sure what I can say to ease the hurt, so I decide to just be here. For a long time, we watch the stars together. Just two broken souls wondering where we fit in the universe, then he bumps my shoulder with his and I twist to offer him a closed-lip grin.
He tilts his head, considering me in the moonlight. “You doing okay?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
I should be the one asking him that question.
“I feel really bad for not telling you sooner,” he whispers. “That Atticus had some sort of plan that involved you. I should’ve told you. Especially after Paris.”
How did this turn into him apologizing to me?
“Elijah, I’m not angry at you.”
A knot forms between his brows.
“I’m not,” I repeat. “I’m pretty pissed at Atticus, though.”
Elijah sighs. “He means well.”
I make a sound in the back of my throat, and Elijah laughs.
“No, really. He’s a brute and a blockhead, but underneath his scowls and muscle, he really has the biggest heart.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“I’m serious,” Elijah says through a chuckle. “You just don’t know him like we do. Before everything happened, he was different. Still a bit obsessive with certain things and unapologetic about most things, but he was… fun .”
“Atticus was fun?”
Now I know he’s fucking with me, but still, he nods. “Really. He had this great dry humor that always killed us. And he was always the first one to sign up for a challenge—well, actually, he still is, he’s just less obvious about it.”
“Huh.”
“And he’s always there when we need him. Always putting us first. It’s why we deal with his grouchiness and his green smoothies and his constant insisting that we fast three times a week. He’s done the research, and even if he’s annoying about it, Sev and I know he does it all to try to keep us healthy.”
I hear what he’s not saying as he drops his head and his smirk falls from his lips.
To keep them from getting sick. Like his mom.
I reach over and place my hand on his knee. He covers it with a warm palm.
“Anyway,” he says with a deep inhale, looking back toward the stars. “Just don’t judge him too harshly yet. Like I said, he means well.”
Maybe for you , I want to say, but I don’t. Atticus has made no secret of how much he cares for his brothers, but I get the feeling that’s where his loyalty ends. It doesn’t extend beyond them and maybe Julian. It certainly doesn’t extend to me.
“I’m surprised you’re not more upset with him for pushing me to come in here.”
A muscle flexes in his jaw, and he lifts his shoulder in a half shrug. “I was. I still am, I guess, but it’s hard to stay pissed when…” He snorts at himself. “When I’m happy he did it.”
I try to understand, and seeing him in here now, so relaxed in the blank slate of a space, I think maybe I get it.
“I’m not sure I ever would’ve done it on my own. I hate how he did it, by involving you, but…” He sighs as he trails off. “It’s okay if you don’t get it.”
“I’m trying to,” I offer, and he squeezes my hand.
“How did we get so lucky?”
I don’t realize he’s talking about me until he slides his gaze to mine again and holds it there until I shiver and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Wanting them was one thing, but the ache in my chest when I look into Elijah’s eyes is another. Dangerous. If I’m not careful, it could ruin me.
His phone lights up again and I see the time.
I let out a breathy laugh to break the tension. “God, it’s so late.” I swallow. “We should really try to get some sleep.”
I push to my feet and suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands. Where to put them.
Elijah stands, scratching the back of his head. His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything as he looks out to the stars and then toward the door that leads to his bedroom, like he’d rather stay here than go back in there.
“Do you want me to, uh, walk you back to your room?”
I hold in a giggle. Walk me back to my room?
He cocks his head at me, trying to read my expression in the dark.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “You could,” I tell him. “Or if you wanted, I could stay?”
He gestures awkwardly toward his room, blinking as he puts it together. “Like, in my room—er— bed? ”
There’s really no need to be shy. It’s been less than half a day since he rocked my world with that pierced cock of his, but that’s not what I’m offering here.
“To sleep,” I clarify. “Or try to, anyway.”
He licks his lips, eyes darting back and forth for an instant while he thinks about it. “Okay. Yeah. If you want to.”
I extend an arm. “Lead the way.”
He keeps checking back over his shoulder while we cross the studio and he opens the door to his bedroom, like he thinks I might spontaneously vanish into thin air.
Honestly, I might. The last guy I slept in the same bed with of my own free will was Danny Maluco in grade ten. He was a nice boy. Too nice for me.
Is Elijah too nice for me?
It’s dark in his room, but I can make out the tidy shapes of simple, gray-toned furniture and bare white walls. It’s nothing like how I imagined an artist’s room would look and a heaviness settles in my chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hmm?”
I realize I’ve stopped walking and shake my head, following him into the colorless space. “Oh. Nothing. I’m good.”
Elijah rushes to clear something from the edge of the bed and then pulls the covers back. “Do you need anything? Water or…?”
I shake my head at him, grinning at how fucking adorable he is when he’s nervous. “Just get in.”
“Right. Okay.”
Elijah slips onto the mattress, pushing way over to leave me a huge amount of space in the king bed that I could never fill. I scoot in close as he pulls the covers over us.
When I burrow into his side, he tenses but opens his arm for me to rest my cheek in the crook of it, laying his hand on my waist.
I don’t think Elijah has had a woman sleep in his bed for a while, either.
As I settle into him and he into me, the tension I’ve been holding on to since we got back melts away and the exhaustion I’ve been trying to find finally hits me.
“Good night, Elijah.”
“Good night, Angel.”