Chapter Eighteen Eliott
I know something is up from the way Sasha slides into my bedroom. She’s either here to ask for a favour or she’s fishing for something.
‘You look cute,’ she says, a deceptively innocent smile on her face as she plops down onto the bed.
‘What’s the occasion? Ah!’ She pretends to tap her head like she’s just remembered something incredibly important.
‘That’s right. You’re hanging out with Dane tonight, aren’t you?
I’m starting to wonder if I should feel jealous. ’
‘Jealous?’ I snort and drop down onto the bed next to her. ‘Why?’
Sasha gives me a look that’s somewhere between amusement and exasperation. ‘Eliott, babe. Come on.’
‘What?’ I ask, genuinely confused.
The expression on her face switches to something else.
She looks almost hurt. ‘Since when did we start keeping things from each other?’
‘You popped a pimple on my ass last night,’ I remind her with a raised brow. ‘There’s literally nothing you don’t know about me. Our relationship is actually probably a bit unhealthy.’
‘Fair,’ Sasha concedes, before waving an accusatory finger in my face. ‘But that’s what I’m talking about. You’ll let me pop your ass pimples, but you won’t tell me that you and Dane are fucking?’
I freeze and stare at my best friend incredulously. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I know we had that talk and you were like, “ no, no, Dane is off-limits ”. But you don’t have to be embarrassed if you changed your mind. I’m not gonna judge you.’ She looks genuinely upset. ‘I was the one who said you should give him another chance in the first place, so I don’t understand—’
‘Sash—’
‘And you’re not even doing a good job at hiding it,’ Sasha continues, completely oblivious to my attempt at an interruption. ‘You guys are always messaging, and you’re always rushing off to meet him randomly. And I don’t think we’ve hung out together on a Friday night in weeks.’
I frown. That can’t be true.
I comb through my memories of the last few weeks. It hits me with a jolt when I realise that she’s right. Ever since that night with Nan’s kitchen, I’m pretty sure Dane and I have done something together every week.
I haven’t thought twice about it.
Spending this time with Dane has become natural.
Second nature. When an artist I’ve loved for years announces a one-off gig, Dane is the first person I ask to see if he wants to come with me.
His response is an immediate ‘of course, babe’ and I don’t even have the chance to load up Ticketmaster before he’s sending me a screenshot of the tickets he just bought for us.
When I get a new camera – a beautiful vintage Olympus model that reminds me of the camera Grandad used to use when I was younger – I don’t hesitate to ask if Dane wants to wander around the city and be my model for a few test shots.
He agrees without hesitation and takes his role as my model seriously, right up until we get to my last two shots of film.
That’s when he insists that I jump into the shot with him and we spend ten minutes awkwardly trying to prop the camera up on a wall so we can get a shot of Dane resting his chin on my head, his arms wrapped loosely around my waist.
When I’m heading back from a late night wedding down dark and unfamiliar country roads, I don’t think twice about calling Dane to keep me company on the long ride home.
He stays on the call for three hours straight, and doesn’t hang up until I close my bedroom door behind me and he knows I’m home safely.
When did Dane become that person for me?
It was always Sasha who came with me to gigs when I didn’t have anyone else to go with; Sasha who acted as my model whenever I ordered some new film or wanted to try a new technique; Sasha who always dutifully stayed up and kept me company on the phone when I drove home late at night.
When did that change?
And how did I not notice?
‘I’m just saying,’ Sasha continues with a shrug. ‘You don’t have to keep hiding it from me.’
‘We’re not,’ I say quickly. ‘We’re not fucking or anything like that.’
Sasha quirks a brow in obvious disbelief.
‘We’re not ,’ I repeat firmly. ‘We’re just friends.’
She stares at me for a few long seconds and then bursts into laughter. ‘No, you’re not.’
‘We are .’
‘No, I get that you think you are,’ Sasha says in between giggles.
She’s laughing like this is the funniest thing she’s ever heard.
‘But you’re not. You’re absolutely not.’ She leans back against my pillows and grins.
‘You guys are definitely going to fuck.’ Sasha, completely undeterred by my silence, happily continues on.
‘One hundred per cent you two are going to fuck. I bet my entire Fenty collection on it.’
That gets a snort out of me. ‘We’re not going to sleep together. Like I said, we’re just friends.’
Friends who sometimes share passionate kisses. The kind of kiss that lingers in your mind and provides several nights’ worth of fun material to think back on.
We’ve not kissed since. Haven’t even spoken about it. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wouldn’t be mad if it happened again.
But it can’t happen again, because we’re friends.
Just friends.
Sasha just hums as she jumps off my bed and flounces towards the door. ‘Can’t tell if you’re just being stubborn or if you’re genuinely an idiot.’
‘Can’t it be both?’ I ask with a weak laugh.
Sasha shakes her head once last time before she disappears out the door. ‘Pretty sure it is.’
I can’t get Sasha’s words out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, I see her smug face grinning at me as she mouths the words I told you so . She hasn’t been proved right, not yet anyway, but I’m woman enough to admit that she might have a point.
I’m sat on Dane’s comfy sofa, there’s an episode of The Chase playing on his large TV, the remnants of our dinner spread out around us, and Dane is sat between my legs.
His back is pressed up against my core and every few seconds he lolls his head back to rest against my stomach.
‘Stop moving so much,’ I scold him lightly, my fingers wrapped around one of his locs. We’ve been at it for the last couple of hours now and I’m almost finished – just one small patch at the front to neaten up, and then we’ll be done.
But I don’t want to be done.
I can’t tell if it’s Sasha’s voice drowning out the usually logical one in my head or if she’s just given me the blessing to act on the thoughts I’ve had for probably longer than I realise, but I’ve come to understand something.
I do want to fuck Dane.
I want him to push me into the cushions on his couch and sink into me in a way that makes my toes curl, my back arch, and breathy little moans fall from my mouth. I can’t stop imagining it.
Every time he leans into me or brushes his hands against my leg, a warmth shoots through me and settles in the pit of my stomach in a delicious, teasing kind of way.
I’m going to kill Sasha.
I was perfectly happy living in self-imposed ignorance before. Happy to pretend like I was content with having Dane as a friend and nothing more. And then she had to go and ruin everything.
Because as much as I want to, I know that nothing can come from this. I sound like a broken record, but my rule is in place for a reason.
You’ve never been in a situation like this before, though . The treacherous Sasha voice in my mind makes a good point.
My rule is for one-night stands. Not friends. Not Dane , the man who has become an integral part of my life in four short months without me even realising.
I could break my rule.
For him.
But what happens when I break it and it goes just as it’s always gone? Dane realises that I am broken. That having sex with me isn’t going to be fun and easy and I’m more baggage, more of a burden, than he’s willing to handle.
And then I lose him. Not just in a sexual way, but I lose all of this too. The friendship. The laughter. The nights spent curled up on the sofa watching him get irritated at the contestants on quiz shows when they don’t know the answers to apparently simple questions.
I can’t lose this just because I’m horny.
Dane shifts slightly and turns, his lips automatically splitting into my favourite lopsided smile as his gaze lands on me.
Really fucking horny.
‘Everything all right?’
‘Fine,’ I say, clearing my throat when I realise how irritatingly high my voice sounds. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
Dane lifts a brow. ‘You’ve just been holding my hair up for the last five minutes without doing anything.’
I glance at my hands. He’s right. The loc I started on five minutes ago is still between my fingers, thoroughly untwisted as I let my mind wander.
Definitely going to kill Sasha.
His smile splits into a knowing grin, like he can read my mind and knows exactly what turn my thoughts have taken over the last few minutes. I half-heartedly consider throwing caution to the wind and just going for it, but my phone vibrates beside me and snatches my attention away immediately.
Ever since the situation with Nan and her kitchen, I’ve kept my phone close to me.
I know it’s irrational and I can’t be there all the time, but the idea of missing something important again literally makes my heart twist painfully in my chest and I refuse to feel like that again.
Especially when I know that Nan can’t rely on Mum or Leanne or Josh to follow up with her.
It took Mum an entire week to finally text me back. Not even a call. Leanne at least had the decency – or sense of guilt – to check in with Nan two days later but, as far as I can tell, Josh still hasn’t even bothered to see what had happened.
Speaking of Leanne, her name pops up on my screen followed my several frantic messages.
LEANNE
ok ok i know what you’re gna say
but this is an emergency
can i pls borrow ￡200? will pay u back by the end of next week
I feel myself stiffen slightly as I read and reread her messages. Dane is still sat between my legs, but he must feel the tension in my body because he turns again, a worried frown pinching his brows together.
‘What’s wrong?’
LEANNE
plsssss my rent is due and im short just a little bit
promise i wont ask again
A stream of praying emojis flood my screen, followed by a handful of crying emojis, followed by:
LEANNE
ELZZZZZZZ PLSSSSSSSSSSSS
‘It’s nothing,’ I mutter, fingers flying to type out a response to my sister.
ELIOTT
Is everything okay?
LEANNE
it’s fine, i just didn’t budget properly this month
can you borrow me or not?
i already asked mum. she said to ask you or nan
ELIOTT
Don’t ask Nan.
I’ll send you the money.
LEANNE
lifesaver 3
thank u, love u
Dane rises from the floor and comes to settle on the sofa next to me. In one swift movement he drapes an arm over my shoulder and pulls me into his chest.
My eyes flutter shut of their own accord and I allow myself a brief moment of peace, nestled beside him. He doesn’t push me, doesn’t repeat his question. He just waits patiently, his fingers softly threading through my hair until I’m ready.
‘I’m fine,’ I murmur, my face still buried in his chest. ‘Everything is fine.’
He squeezes my arm gently. ‘Baby.’
‘It is ,’ I say firmly. I push myself up from his chest, not far enough to get out of his grasp, but enough that I can look into his eyes. ‘It’s fine. She just needs to borrow some money. I’ve got the money. It’s fine .’
‘Doesn’t sound fine.’
‘Well, it is.’ My tone is sharper than I’d like, and Dane doesn’t deserve that. ‘Sorry,’ I sigh, shifting to lean into his touch again. ‘Sorry. I’m not – It’s not you.’
He gives me another squeeze. ‘I know.’
‘It’s not even the money,’ I continue. ‘She’s my baby sister.
If I can help her, I will.’ I swallow down a lump in my throat I recognise as the threat of oncoming tears.
‘I just worry about her. About all of them, you know? They rely on me a lot, and what happens when I can’t help them?
’ My heart thuds furiously in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever voiced this aloud.
It’s the treacherous thought that constantly niggles at the back of mind.
‘What happens when I say no and I’m suddenly not any use to them? ’
Dane pulls me in even further and drops his chin on the top of my head. ‘You worry too much, baby.’
‘Someone has to,’ I mutter.
‘And who worries about you?’ He pulls back just far enough so he can look me directly in the eye. My breath stutters in my throat as he brings a hand up to cradle my face in that soft, tender way he’s managed to perfect over the last few months.
‘I don’t need anyone to worry about me.’ The admission stings my tongue as it leaves my mouth, no matter how true it is.
Dane gives me a soft, sad look as his thumb runs soothing circles around my cheek. ‘I don’t like that.’
I shrug, though I’m not sure how convincing my attempt at nonchalance is. ‘That’s just how it is.’
Dane’s jaw tenses. ‘ Definitely don’t like that.’ His thumb skitters down my cheek and runs along the rim of my lip. I fight back the urge to run my tongue along the path his thumb has just taken. ‘Can you promise me something?’
I nod without thinking. ‘Anything.’
‘If you’re going to worry, I don’t want you to do it alone anymore.
’ Another stroke of his thumb along my bottom lip.
I feel myself start to lean in. ‘Tell me what’s going on, and we can figure it out together.
’ He finally pulls away and I give into the urge and run my tongue along my lips.
His gaze follows the path my tongue takes, and he swallows noticeably before continuing. ‘Can you promise me that, baby?’
I don’t even have to think twice about my answer. ‘I can.’