Chapter Ten Eliott
I’m not going to pretend like it’s not a tempting offer.
Dane is… Well, Dane is Dane , and there’s a reason he caught my eye two years ago.
It’s the same reason I’ve even entertained this conversation for as long as I have tonight.
I can’t decide whether it’s his good looks or the effortless charm he oozes, but there’s something about him that keeps me rooted in my seat.
We could try again.
We’re on an even playing field now.
Those words should have me running for the hills.
I’ve heard them before, and I’ve been burned by them – drawn into the promise of a second chance, only to find myself right back at square one.
I’ve learned the hard way that the allure of a fresh start doesn’t guarantee a better ending. The opposite is more likely.
I haven’t left yet, though.
He’s still staring at me from across the table, mouth slightly ajar, as if the possibility of me turning him down had never occurred to him.
Idly, I wonder how many women he’s used that move on. Admittedly, it was nice – the whole ‘ eye contact ’ and ‘ caressing my face ’ thing – and might’ve ended up working if he didn’t ruin things by opening his mouth.
A waiter accidentally brushes against Dane as they hurry past with a tray, and the movement is enough to jostle him back to reality. He leans back into his seat and the look of surprise on his face slowly melts away, making way for a familiar, confident smirk.
A shame.
If I weren’t so incredibly turned off by his comments, I might admit that the brief, uncharacteristically startled look on his face was kind of cute. Very rabbit in the headlights.
‘Can I ask why?’ Dane says, finally breaking the stilted silence that’s blanketed itself over us.
The answer comes to me easily. ‘I don’t sleep with the same person twice.’
Dane raises an incredulous brow. ‘Never?’
‘Not anymore,’ I clarify. It’s easier this way, this boundary I’ve been forced to set to guard my heart and avoid making the same mistakes time and time again.
Dane nods, his gaze steady on mine. He considers me carefully for a few seconds before he shrugs. ‘Fair enough.’
I expect him to push. The last guy I had this conversation with spent the following twenty minutes practically begging me to rethink my decision, convinced that his apparently magic dick would be the one to set things right.
Unfortunately, that’s a conversation I’m very familiar with.
I still haven’t decided if it’s a case of a bruised ego or just a general delusion suffered by an embarrassingly large portion of the male population, but it always reinforces that I’ve made the right choice.
But Dane doesn’t push.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I see a hint of understanding in his eyes. I’m not sure which I’d hate more right now. Dane desperately trying to wear me down, or the sympathetic look in his eyes. I glance away and fumble with my napkin, focusing on tearing it to tiny shreds.
‘So, about the wedding?’
The speed at which he’s pivoted back to the reason he’s even here in the first place is so impressive, it startles a laugh out of me. There’s no trace of irritation in his expression – nothing that would suggest he’s reeling from having just been rejected.
Sex is off the table and now he’s back to business.
I let myself relax a little in my seat. ‘Right. Yeah. The wedding.’
Dane swallows and taps a finger against the table in front of him. He’s nervous . The realisation hits me with a jolt. I hadn’t actually considered that someone like Dane, someone who oozes confidence with seemingly little thought, actually had the ability to feel nerves.
But here we are.
‘Cash is my best friend,’ Dane says after a long moment. ‘And Bailey is my little sister.’
‘I’m aware,’ I say wryly, wondering where this is going.
The corners of his lips lift into the beginnings of a smile I’m increasingly become fond of, but they dip almost immediately downwards back into a contemplative frown. ‘I just mean that they’re important to me. And if there’s anything I can do to make them happy, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.’
It’s easy to imagine Dane slipping into the protective older brother role for Bailey, and I feel a twinge of unexpected jealousy.
I’m the eldest out of the three of us, but Josh and I are only a year apart and the idea of him doing or saying something like this for me is unfathomable.
I don’t think we’ve even said a word to each other in about two months.
Though I suppose Mum’s birthday is coming up, so I’ll hear from him soon.
Technically.
What’ll actually happen is this: I’ll fire up the rarely used siblings’ group chat I created five years ago and subtly remind both Leanne and Josh about Mum’s upcoming birthday by floating suggestions for a gift.
Leanne will enthusiastically participate in the gift selection – but will have no intention of paying – and Josh will leave me on read.
If I’m lucky, he’ll frantically message me the day before Mum’s birthday and ask if I wouldn’t mind putting his name on the gift.
And I’ll do it.
Just like I do every year.
‘That’s why I’m here tonight,’ Dane continues.
‘I wanted to clear the air and make sure that when Bailey officially sends the request for the wedding – and it is coming, by the way, if it hasn’t already; Bailey’s fully aboard the Eliott train – that you don’t turn it down just because you can’t stand to be in the same room as me.
’ He clears his throat, and I can’t quite place the expression on his face.
He looks almost wary, like he’s afraid of what I’m going to say. ‘Where do we stand right now, Eliott?’
It’s a fair question and, if he’d asked it two hours ago, I know exactly what my answer would’ve been. But now it’s two hours later and the embarrassment I’ve been stoking for the last two years has simmered well below the surface.
I feel an unexpected sense of trust towards Dane, too. His offer to try again notwithstanding, he’s been the perfect gentleman about all this. And besides, it’ll just be one more time. I’ll do the wedding and that’ll be it.
No more Dane.
‘We’re good,’ I tell him. ‘I swear I’m not going to run away at the sight of you again.’
Dane heaves out a dramatic sigh of relief. ‘Good, because I don’t think my ego could handle that again.’
He’s good at that. Easing the tension with some well-timed humour. I don’t even think he realises he’s doing it.
‘And the wedding?’ he asks.
I nod, enjoying the way his entire face lights up. ‘I’ll do the wedding.’
His smile is infectious, and I find myself matching it almost instantly.
‘You’re a lifesaver, Eliott.’
Lifesaver.
The word just keeps following me around.
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: Wedding booking request
Hi Bailey. It’s lovely to hear from you. Glad to hear the engagement photos went down well! September in Italy sounds absolutely beautiful, and I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful day. I’d be honoured to photograph the wedding.
Let me know your availability for a call to hash out some details.
Best,
Eliott
Six months.
Six months to push Dane from my mind and make sure I can keep my promise to act like a rational human being at the wedding.
It feels like a simple enough task. Especially given the cordial, almost friendly manner in which we part ways when we leave the restaurant.
As soon as I get the notification from Uber that Leanne’s arrived at her party safely – accompanied by an eye-watering deduction from my bank account – I leap up from our table and Dane follows me out.
He gives me a not entirely awkward half-hug once we exit the restaurant, mutters that he’s glad we did this, and then that’s it.
The air between us is officially cleared.
By the time we see each other again, six months from now, this entire debacle will be nothing more than a tiny blip in our memories. We might even be able to laugh about it.
There’s no reason for Dane’s stupidly handsome face to be occupying any kind of space in my head right now.
And yet…
‘You want to fuck him,’ Sasha says, blunt as ever.
She’s sat on my bedroom floor, several packets of braiding hair sprawled out in front of her.
To her credit, she waited ten minutes before barging into my room, bringing her hair supplies with her.
‘And I, for one, don’t see what the problem is.
’ She holds up a finger. ‘One: he told you he’d be up for it, didn’t he? ’
‘That—’
A second finger. ‘Two: he was chill about the whole engagement party thing.’
Very chill.
She grins at my reluctant nod, and then she adds a third finger. ‘And finally, once again: you want to fuck him .’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘No, I’m pretty sure it is,’ Sasha says with a shrug. She resumes braiding her hair, and squints at me in the mirror. ‘I mean – and I guess I don’t know him – but, after everything you’ve told me? He’s not giving me Connor vibes.’
I wince at the use of the name. ‘Yeah, well. Connor didn’t give those vibes either, did he?’
Sasha falls silent and, for a moment, I think I’ve won this little battle between us. But then she rises from the floor and comes over to my desk. She drapes her arms around my shoulders and squeezes gently.
‘Connor was a dick,’ she says softly.
I snort. ‘The worst.’
She hums in agreement. ‘But you can’t—’
I cut her off, because I know what she’s going to say. It’s the same thing she’s said the hundred other times we’ve had this exact same conversation. ‘I can’t write everyone off just because of him?’
‘Exactly.’
I sigh and pull away from her touch. ‘But it wasn’t just him, was it?’
Connor, my last long-term relationship, was just the tip of the iceberg. He might’ve been the cruellest; the one to spit that I might not be such a frigid bitch and actually enjoy sex if I ‘ just bothered to lose some weight ’, but he wasn’t unique.
There was Aaron before him, who’d regularly insist that I was withholding orgasms as a way to punish him for something and would retaliate by giving me the silent treatment.
And Jamal, who refused to even try to use toys with me because, in some weird and twisted way, he thought it was ‘cheating’.
And Jada before him, who was the first – but not the last – to suggest that maybe there is actually something wrong with me because she’d never not made a girl come before.
And too many names before her.
I started enforcing my rule after Connor and, while my sex life has been thoroughly unsatisfying ever since – not that it was anything to shout about before – the lack of heartbreak or pain has definitely made up for it.
‘Dane is off the table,’ I say firmly.
But Sasha looks unconvinced, and honestly? I am too.