Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“Yes,” I croaked, trying very hard not to let my gaze drift back to his bare, dripping chest just inches from my face.
“What is it?”
“Work.” I forced the word out. One was all I could manage. I was overwhelmed, not just by his physicality but the way he was talking to me. Anger radiated from every cell of his being, and I couldn’t understand why.
“I still have five minutes on my session.”
I folded my arms and met his gaze resolutely. Not least because I was annoyed, but because his angry expression made him look all the hotter and I couldn’t physically handle it.
He sighed, and turned to his sparring partner.
“Nick, I gotta bounce.” Then he climbed through the ropes and dropped to the floor beside me, heat emanating from his powerful form.
“I’ll be with you in five.” Without meeting my eye, he loped to the changing rooms, and I felt like I could breathe again.
If I hadn’t been in lust with Elliot Fox before, I was now.
My desire was completely, utterly primal, tearing through every rational thought and argument I’d made since I’d met him.
He’s a colleague. RJ has banned workplace romance.
You have too much riding on this. But I didn’t care.
I wanted him so badly I hurt. On shaking legs, heart pounding, I made my way outside, hoping the fresh air would restore my sanity.
Soon enough, Elliot bounded out, hair damp from a shower and kit-bag slung over his shoulder.
He didn’t slow down when he saw me, just charged down the pavement ahead and I had to do an ungainly trot just to keep up.
“Slow down,” I said, “I’m not as fit as you.” And he was so very fit.
“Too bad.” He moved even faster, eyes on the pavement ahead.
“Hey! What’s going on?” But he only increased his speed, pulling ahead with ease as he turned down RJF’s street. “Elliot!” I ran after him, yanking at his elbow. “Seriously, Elliot, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
He rounded on me, eyes flashing. “You kissed Ralf.”
“No, I—” Then I stopped. “Wait, how do you know about this?”
“I heard you!” he accused. “You and Juno just this morning.”
“Oh.” I remembered Juno’s teasing and laughed. “That? Oh no, it’s not what you think.”
“Y-you’re laughing?” he spluttered in outrage.
I’d never seen him so irate. “I’m laughing because it didn’t happen.”
“I know what I heard.” He loomed over me. “Why? Why him?”
Elliot was mad with rage at the very idea of me kissing Ralf.
Was that because he hated Ralf or because he liked me?
Oh, the irony that I wanted to kiss Elliot Fox right now, this moment, more than I had ever wanted anyone or anything in my life.
It was going against everything I’d ever practiced in my career but every cell, every element of my body was charged, ready to burst into flame if Elliot Fox so much as breathed on me.
“Are you … jealous?” I couldn’t help it; the words came out in a low purr.
His lips thinned. “That’s a fucking ridiculous thing to say.” He started storming towards the office.
“Elliot, stop!” I called after him. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t kiss Ralf!”
He stopped and wheeled to face me. “Juno said—”
“Juno got it wrong,” I told him. “Ralf kissed me, I rejected him, end of story.” Then, because I was fired up, I went on, “Even if I had kissed him, so what? It would be nothing to do with you.” Although I really want it to be.
Twin spots of red appeared on his cheeks. “You’re right. None of my business.” He turned as if to go but then stopped. “He’s an asshole, you know that, right?”
“Fuck’s sake, what is it with you two?” I said. I might have had my issues with Ralf, but Elliot’s loathing clearly eclipsed anything I felt.
“He’s a fucking thief!” Elliot yelled.
“What?” Of all the things I’d expected Elliot to say, that wasn’t it.
“Yeah, so stay away from him,” he said.
“Elliot, you can’t say something like that and not explain.”
He sighed, clearly debating with himself.
“For a while at NYU, he and I were buddies, if you can believe,” he said.
“We met at orientation, and we clicked – you know how social he is. He brought me right out of myself. I mean, his dad is, like, an industry legend, he knew all these people and had all this experience. I looked up to him. And because of his connections, we all expected him to be top of the class. He expected it too.”
“What happened?”
“Me.” A ironic smile flickered across Elliot’s face. “I started coming top of the class in pretty much everything and that was hard for him to handle. We drifted, started hanging out less and less.”
Knowing Ralf as I did, I could believe he would struggle not being the top student. “Go on.”
“And then, one day, he asked if I could help coach him through final assignments.” Elliot laughed bitterly. “I was so grateful my friend was talking to me again that I helped. I brainstormed, shared ideas … and then he stole my concept, presented it as his own.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep.” Elliot raked a hand through his hair. “I complained, of course. When it came down to proving it, it was his word against mine. And who is going to take the word of a working-class kid from Bridgeport over Niles Fisher’s son?”
“What happened?”
“NYU failed us both for plagiarism,” Elliot told me.
“Forced us to retake our last class and delayed graduation. His parents went nuts and he’s hated me ever since for exposing who he really is.
Of course, he could afford to live rent-free and retake the class at his leisure.
Me? I was drowning in debt, I needed to start earning a living, but …
” He shrugged. “No one was gonna hire the guy who flunked film school thanks to plagiarism, so I had no choice but to retake that class and try not to bankrupt myself.”
“You know he told me the opposite story,” I said. “That you stole his idea.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Elliot said with a bitter laugh.
“You should have told me.” I said.
“I know,” he said. “And I wanted to. I guess I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Trust me, I believe you.” I’d witnessed Ralf’s ambition up close at the photo shoot. “He doesn’t care who he tramples over.”
“Right. And it kills him that I’m RJ’s right-hand man,” Elliot said. “That’s why the thought of you kissing him pisses me off. Because he’s not a nice guy and you could—” His voice gave out.
“Could what?” I said. “Do better?”
“Oh, I know you could.” Finally, he held my gaze and I shivered at the fire that burned there. Pedestrians flowed around us as we faced off, unwilling to back down.
“I don’t want Ralf, Elliot,” I said slowly, deliberately. “I never did.”
His smile was tentative. “How can I make this up to you?”
I had a fair idea, but I was clinging to the vestiges of professionalism. “That’s up to you.”
His eyes drifted to something behind me. A subway stop. “I have an idea.”