Chapter 24 Dove #3
I rolled to my side to face her, and she brought her hand back to herself, tucking it under her chin where she held the blankets.
I could make her out faintly in the darkness.
“God, I like you, Ellis.”
A soft, breathless laugh escaped her, and I felt the warmth of it on my face, the hint of spearmint toothpaste carrying with it.
Her laugh was nervous—almost disarming.
“I like you too.”
I wondered what happened next. What happened once Margaret was fully laid to rest and Liv hopefully crossed over. We’d have the drive home—likely a little more express this time—with a few stops carved out to catch what we missed. But it wouldn’t be much of a scenic route.
Was this energy we had with each other only for the road? Or would it carry on back in Chicago?
“You’ve been hanging around me too much,” Ellis murmured. “I can hear your thoughts from here.”
I grinned.
“Oh yeah? What am I thinking?”
Ellis poked my arm under the blanket, and I caught her hand.
“Everything that I am,” she said, her voice quiet as her fingers looped through mine. “Maybe we should just talk about it instead of spiraling on our own.”
I brought her hand to my mouth and pressed a kiss to it.
“What happens then,” I asked, my voice a little shaky, “when we get home?”
A pause.
“I’d like to keep seeing you,” she said, and the knot that had been growing in my chest loosened slightly. “If you wanted that too.”
“I’d like that,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual.
“I could get sick again,” she added carefully. “My heart might fail. I might not live very long.”
My heart ached at her words—the careful warning she gave me, like the final disclaimer as we both made our choice.
I squeezed her hand.
“I might get hit by a bus or fall off a cliff or choke on a grape,” I told her.
Her laugh was real, and I felt it deep inside me as she squeezed my hand.
“We never know what’s coming, Ellis,” I said. “All we have is the right now.”
I could see her faintly in the dark, nodding at my words.
“Okay.”
Her voice was clear, simple, and held a tone of finality that had me closing the distance between us, finding her lips in the dark and kissing her. It was slow and tentative, and I relished the warmth of her lips, the fruity scent of her shampoo lingering in her now-braided hair.
Her kiss was restrained, cautious, even as her hand curled into my shirt. But I could still feel the hesitance in her, the same I’d felt this morning, and I broke away.
“Are you okay?” I asked her carefully.
I could feel it then—that flicker of uncertainty, the quicker rise and fall of her chest.
“I’m embarrassed.”
Her words were rushed and breathy, and I felt her hand tighten on my shirt. I frowned, my thumb grazing along her cheekbone.
“Why?”
She let out a long breath, as if resigning herself to whatever she’d already decided in her mind. When she spoke, her voice was nervous.
“Look, I—I haven’t really ever been with anyone… like, you know,” she muttered. “Alexis and I… it was all very G-rated. I feel like—I feel like I’m going to mess something up. Like I’ll do something wrong, and you’ll think I’m—”
“Hey.” I cut her off, and her rambling stopped. “There is no wrong way. There’s nothing to mess up. There’s just us, and whatever feels good.”
Her silence was nearly stifling, but she nodded once, as if trying to accept my words.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I told her gently. “I would never want you to feel pressured… or like you had to do anything. We can take this as slow as you need, Ellis.”
“And if I want to?” she asked after a beat.
I swallowed my own growing nerves. “Then we can.”
She shifted again, and I felt her hand at her chest.
“I—no one has ever… ” She cleared her throat.
“No one has ever seen my scar except my medical team and my mom. It’s big.
It’s obvious. It’s not like a cute freckle or some badass-looking thing.
It’s a pale pink reminder that I broke—almost fully—and that I needed parts of me replaced. It’s not sexy. I hate it.”
I cracked inside for her—at the raw vulnerability in her voice, the shake in it as she spoke. I knew her clothing was carefully chosen. I’d seen those subtle glances downward when she wore a V-neck sweater. She made sure it was covered and out of sight.
Because she hated the reminder, and everything it stood for.
“It’s part of you,” I said. “And you’re—” My voice nearly caught with the emotion building in my throat.
“You’re beautiful. All of you. There’s nothing about you that’s broken to me, Ellis.
All I see is strength when I look at you.
At someone who’s had to overcome more in one lifetime than most do in twenty. ”
She said nothing, but her hand had loosened its death grip on my shirt.
“I know that you avoided life because you thought, what’s the point in living it?” I said gently. “I get why you stopped. I understand why you didn’t want to bring anyone into it. And now you’re dealing with all the weird, awkward shit most of us get past in our mid-to-late teens, and it’s okay.”
“Well,” she muttered weakly, “I’m behind on a lot.”
I found myself grinning. “We’re all doing life at our own pace, Ellis.
If you try to measure where you’re at against where someone else is, you’re destined for failure.
” I licked my lips. “Just remember, above all, I’m never judging you.
I’m in awe of you, even if you hate that.
I admire you. And I want to learn everything there is to know about Ellis Langley. ”
She shivered in response to my words, and I felt something shift in the air as her hold on my shirt tightened once more. She moved closer, and I could see her faintly in the darkness, the small spill of light from the cracked curtain showing me the raw vulnerability on her face.
“All right,” she whispered.
And then her lips were on mine.