Chapter 16
We're Codependent?
IRIS
I try not to make a habit out of embarrassing myself. But it seems the longer I spend with Elliot Cross, the more frequent an occurrence it becomes. So much so, I can’t even be bothered to care when the whispers start up around me.
I’ve been standing outside Trinity Hall for a little over fifteen minutes, willing my boyfriend to materialize.
He has potions at this hour, and is bound to appear at some point, so here I am—waiting.
Well, actually, waiting may not be the best word.
After three read texts, two ignored calls, and one trip to Crescent House, I am hunting him. And he will be lucky to survive when I finally find him.
I haven’t heard from him all day. The only proof of life I have is a few dirty texts sent well after midnight, which wouldn’t be odd if things were still as they had been before.
But these days, I’m lucky if I can go thirty minutes without hearing “princess,” churned out of his mouth in a low growl.
It’s become so common, I think I’m disappointed I haven’t heard it all afternoon.
Now, that’s odd.
In my hand, my phone rings, flashing “Unknown” at the top of the screen, but I ignore it as I spot my prey.
Head down, hood up, locs shrouding his face.
He’s practically unrecognizable as he slumps across the courtyard without the usual toothy grin and jaunty step. He looks tired. Almost hollow.
Again, I contemplate turning back.
I’m no good with hollow. If I were, I would have figured out a way to fill myself up by now.
But before I can make my decision, his head lifts, nose to the sky, and a smile cracks open on his face as he catches my scent.
He turns in a slow, deliberate circle, searching for me in the crowd.
I’m not hard to find. You can usually spot me from the empty bubble that surrounds me. Or just follow the craning necks. They’ll point you in the right direction.
A few of them have the decency to look away as Elliot crosses the courtyard.
I’ll miss that when this is over.
His smile widens as he draws closer, not enough to reach his eyes, just enough that he looks more like himself. But any relief I find in it is quickly swept away as I spot the angry scar cutting through his eyebrow where a silver bar had once been, and the deep bruise blooming along his jaw.
A weight settles in my stomach, and I reach out a hand, unthinking, and rest my palm along his cheek. He winces as my fingers graze the sensitive skin, but he doesn’t pull away.
“What happened?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s nothing,” he says, leaning into my hand.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I was challenged on Friday. It was…”
He trails off, and he tilts his head beyond my reach as he decides not to finish his sentence.
“Did you win?” I ask.
His cheeky grin turns slick as his arms come around me.
“Have I ever lost?”
I shake my head.
“No.”
“Then, yeah, baby. I won.”
“Good.”
Elliot’s face brightens, and his hands find their way to my hips, squeezing me.
“Aw, and here I thought you didn’t care about me.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
He starts to laugh, hands moving steadily south as he drags me in closer. I press my palms into his chest to keep him from crushing me close, but the thump of his heart distracts me, and it takes me a moment for my usual smart reply to leave my mouth.
“I can’t lose my food supply,” I say, calling up a smile. But my heart’s not really in it, and I can only hope he doesn’t notice.
“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Not when it’s this good.”
He winks, and this time the smile reaches his eyes as his fingers brush beneath my skirt, and he grips my ass.
I don’t brush him off. The heat of his hands feels good on my cool skin.
“You work tonight?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Great, we have plans.” I smile to soften the blow. “And you’re going to hate it.”
* * *
“You know, when you said I was going to hate it, I thought you were joking.”
Elliot whispers into my ear as Elsie approaches the table with a teacup in each hand and Owen trailing close behind with two more. He is smiling like a fool as he follows her around the tea house, and Elliot and I both share a glance as he rushes ahead to pull out her chair.
Poor Owen.
I don’t think he realizes what’s happening here. Although I’m not sure how he doesn’t, given the shitty performance Elsie’s putting on.
There’s a broad smile on her face, but she keeps skirting out of his reach every time he touches her, and there’s no mistaking the little spark of anger in her eyes every time he speaks.
Elliot sees it too. Every time he catches Elsie clenching her teeth, he nudges me under the table. He practically kicks me as we watch Elsie wither under the weight of Owen’s arm around her shoulders, but neither of us says anything.
“What do you guys want to play?” Elsie asks, doling out the teacups.
She slides me the lemon and ginger that’s meant for Owen, and sloshes a bit of my elderflower and wolfsbane across the table as she places it in front of herself.
I know she’s truly flustered when she does nothing to correct it.
Instead, she watches, blank-faced, as Elliot silently rearranges the cups and blots the spilled tea with a few napkins.
“I’ll get you another one,” he tells me, noticing my cup is nearly half empty.
I pin a hand to his knee, fixing him in place with a look that hopefully says, ‘Please do not leave me alone with them, they’re freaking me out.’
In response, he simply mutters, “Just have mine.”
Elsie, seemingly in another universe, announces, “I’m thinking cards.”
“Oh,” I say, glancing at Elliot. “Sure. Works for us.”
She rises from the table with a smile I know is fake, and it grows splintering as Owen excuses himself to join her.
Evidently, he is incapable of spending a moment without her. Usually, I’d say it’s sickening. But I’m starting to understand the urge.
After seeing Elliot so battered, I can’t stop looking at him.
My gaze finds his face every time he fidgets. Every time he winces. Every time he so much as breathes a little funny. Even now, as he watches Elsie and Owen flit off to the back wall where the games and puzzles are stored, I can’t stop.
“I’m fine, Iris. You don’t have to keep checking on me.”
“You don’t look fine,” I say.
His face is twisted up in some version of pain I don’t recognize, and his knee hasn’t stopped bouncing since we sat down.
“Yeah, well, neither do you,” he says.
“Excuse me?”
He reaches over to swipe a hand across my lap, dusting a cluster of speckled red flakes to the floor with a pointed look.
I hadn’t realized I was picking at the paint beneath the table.
Is that why the skin on my fingers feels raw?
“Gods.” I fist my hands. “What is wrong with us?”
Elliot sets his teacup down to finish brushing the rest of the paint flakes out of my lap.
“The same thing that’s wrong with them,” he says, gesturing toward Owen and Elsie with his head.
Owen is still trailing behind her as they sift through the stack of games in the corner, and I watch them with a sort of envy I can’t really place.
“We’re codependent?” I ask.
Elliot chuckles.
“No, they’re lonely. The only difference is you and I feel safer that way. They don’t.”
I don’t argue with him. Mostly because he’s right. But partly because if I were to argue about it, I would have to acknowledge it. Which I’m not ready to do.
When he’s satisfied he’s removed as much of the peeling paint as he can, he leaves his hand wedged between my thighs. And in an effort to find something else to do with my own, I rest my hand on his shoulder, absentmindedly twirling a loc between my fingers.
Elsie and Owen return with a few options, and we settle on the standard, enchanted deck for a game of Aces.
“Girls versus boys?” Elsie proposes as she deals them out.
“Absolutely not,” Elliot answers. “No offense.”
Owen shrugs.
“None taken.”
For the next hour and a half, we all do our best impression of ‘happy couple.’ With almost everyone but Elsie managing to put on a convincing show. Although none quite as convincing as Elliot.
Domesticity may not be his strong suit, but as we sit shoulder to shoulder, huddled together over the little table and the growing mountain of cards in the center, he is an absolute natural.
“Your turn, princess.” He prompts me, rubbing his thumb over my cheek to draw my attention.
“Oh, sorry.”
I cast my card, and Elliot grins, satisfied with my selection.
“Good pick, baby. Ya’ll ready to give up or what?”
Owen and Elsie frown.
“No,” they state in unison.
Elliot shrugs, and I hide my laugh behind my cards.
They really should consider forfeiting.
Aces is the kind of game that requires a bit of intuition and trust. If your partner cannot read you well, you might as well not play at all. Hence, Elliot’s vehement denial to play on Owen’s team.
Which was a good choice because we’re killing it.
Elliot’s tail wags in anticipation as we watch Owen place a card down. It’s high, but not high enough to cast a spell once Elsie makes her selection. The combined number is too low.
Elliot goes next, slapping his card down then promptly declaring, “Get ‘em, baby!”
I shake my head, but I can’t stifle the grin on my face as I shuffle through the options in my hand.
He’s lucky I have the card we need. Otherwise, his cocky showboating would be embarrassing. But, since I do, it’s absolutely anything but.
“Aww.” I fake a frown as I draw the card out from my hand. “I’m so sorry…Sorry, you lost!”
I set my card down with as much flair as Elliot had, and watch with a splitting grin as Elsie and Owen groan. The enchanted deck sparks, igniting a small firework above our table, signaling that we’ve won.
“Ohhh!” Elliot shouts, throwing down the rest of his hand. “What’d I say? She always got me.”