Chapter 41 Lily
FORTY-ONE
LILY
“Don’t strangle me, okay?” Elijah runs up the staircase in the bus from the first level.
His frantic body puts me on edge. Pushing away some of Stella’s work that I was grading, I give him my full attention.
“Hiding your body would be too difficult on the road, so you’re in the clear.”
His eyes widen, and he runs his hands through his hair, sending pieces everywhere. “I’m serious. You might kill me!”
“How will you know if you never tell me?” Sitting back in my seat, I send him a flirtatious smirk.
More like a little boy than a six-foot-something man, he hovers at the door in case he has to make a run for it. “Because I’m scared of you, woman.”
Pulling my work back and flipping to the page I was just at, I snap my pen open on the table. “I’ll be here, grading. Let me know when you stop being such a scaredy-cat.”
His hands rip away the work from right under me, throwing it behind him, and a gasp escapes my mouth.
“Elijah, what in the world are you doing? That’s my work!”
Just as I’m about to run and pick up the scattered papers, he rushes and puts his palm on my forehead, stopping me right in my tracks.
“Have you read the news?”
Is he testing me?
“I have not been online since my meltdown in that very bunk.” After I point over my shoulder to my bunk bed, I salute him, adding the extra dramatic effect.
His lips curve up, like he’s holding back a secret. “Good girl.”
My panties almost drop.
“I think you’re trying to kill me,” I exclaim, rising and jabbing my finger to my chest, and his eyes follow the movement.
Rocking back on his heels, he shrugs casually. “I’m just trying to prolong my life.”
“It’s not working.”
Holding my shoulders, he walks me backward until the back of my knees hit the couch, and I fall back. Crouching in front of where I now sit, still holding on to my legs, he takes a deep breath before rushing out words so fast that I almost don’t catch a single one.
“The internet seems to know about us.”
“What are you talking about?” I sit straighter with a mouth full of cotton.
He squeezes his eyes shut, wincing, as if pain overtakes his entire body. “That night we left the karaoke bar, we forgot paparazzi were even a thing because we were all over each other. There are thousands of photos of us running back to the hotel to fuck, which is very obvious in the pictures.”
I blink rapidly, watching his face scrunch up in despair, but a bunch of nothing comes to my brain. Is this my fight-or-flight reaction? Because now I know if I’m ever in a dangerous situation, I’ll freeze like a deer in headlights.
With a featherlight touch, his knuckle knocks on my temple. “Are you still there?”
“No, I’ve vanished into hell because I’m going to be living in my own version!” Rushing past him, I pace the moving bus. “What are they saying? What do we do? Is it bad?”
“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, Sweet Cheeks.”
Elijah tries to grab me, but I wave him away, close to having a meltdown.
“This is serious! I never wanted to be in the spotlight. I’m not famous,” I stress, my stomach twisting in knots. “I’m not meant for this life, Elijah. What do we do now?”
Catching me in his arms and peppering kisses all over my face, he coaches me through my panic. “What you need to do is stop freaking out and breathe before you pass out.”
“Easy for you to say. This is your life. This is only a walk in the park for you.”
“If you choose to be in my life, this is going to be the new norm. People are going to film you—us. Make up all sorts of rumors and try to break you down with words. It’s only going to get worse from here.”
Our gazes bore into one another.
“What are you saying?”
His smile is full of sadness. “Whether I’m worth it to you or not.”
“You’ll always be worth it—never say that.” My voice thickens, and I swallow tightly.
I shake my head, in denial. How could he even think I’d give him up at the first sign of trouble?
“What kind of best friend would I be if I let you endure cyberbullying from the entire world?”
With my chin in the middle of his chest, I look up at him. “Are you putting me in the friend zone?”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get out.”
I grin as he speaks, making his lips twitch.
“I’ve been banging on the door, trying to get out for a while.”
Bouncing on his feet, he shakes me along. “I’ve been looking through the peephole, waiting for you.”
“I dare you.”
“Dare me to what?”
The bus jolts. If it wasn’t for Elijah holding me tightly, I would have landed on the floor.
I roll my eyes like he’s asking me a stupid question. “The big question.”
“For your hand in marriage? I thought I already did that.”
I slap his chest.
Barking out a laugh, he continues, “Lily Papas, will you do me the greatest honor and be my girlfriend until the day I actually ask you to be my wife?”
I hold myself from jumping up and down. Instead, a cheeky smile brings up my cheeks. “I guess if I have to.”
Holding me by my shoulders, looking very serious all of a sudden, he blurts, “But you need to tell me when you’re sad. It’s what I’m made for. It’s my duty as your boyfriend.”
“That’s the most you can do as my boyfriend.” I joke, teasing him when I’m really swooning.
“So, you’ll put up with me and the crazy world I live in?”
“Yep.” I say, all giddy.
Little Lily would have been skipping if she had known her best friend would turn into her boyfriend.
Brushing his lips across mine, sealing an unsaid promise, he pulls away. “Even if people are calling you the band’s groupie?”
“Elijah!”
When my mouth pops open, he scurries away toward our shared bathroom.
“Are they actually speculating I’m the band’s groupie?”
If someone screams that to my face, I might just strangle them.
Before closing the door, he pops his face around the doorframe. “Yep, not just for Times Three, but also for Triple Threat.”
The door slams shut just before I get to it, yanking on the handle.
“Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t do it!”
My forehead bounces on the door, and a deep groan leaves my throat.
“Lily, can you grab my phone for me? It’s in my backpack. I forgot to post something. I do my best work on the toilet,” he calls through the door.
“Sure.”
Pushing off the wood, I spot his black backpack on the floor. My fingers fumble with the front pocket, and then my hand finds a small rectangular box. Pulling it out, only because I’m curious, I gasp at what I find.
A box full of cancer sticks.
Cigarettes.
With lungs that feel like they’ve shrunk ten times smaller, I stagger to the bathroom, hand almost crushing the stupid box. His face falls when he opens the door to my pounding and realizes what’s in my hand.
“I haven’t touched those in weeks,” he rushes out at the same time as I say, “You smoke?”
Pushing the door so it’s fully open and not hiding an inch of his body, he pleads, “I used to smoke occasionally whenever I was stressed. To be honest, I didn’t even realize I’d stopped.
” Seeing my trembling body, he takes them from my hand and tosses them into the garbage bin.
“I promise I haven’t touched them since the beginning of the North American leg. ”
“If we’re going to be together, I don’t want you smoking.”
“I won’t even look at another one again.” He grabs my chin and promises me, “Mark my words.”
At a young age, I walked through the cancer ward in the hospital, on my way to visit my sick grandfather, and I learned that health is wealth. If you’re healthy, you’re truly blessed. I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, but I refuse to lose him from cigarettes.
“You only have one body. Please take care of it.” I sniff in his neck.