Chapter 7 #2
Her eyes flash. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stubborn,” I shoot back. “Which is exactly why you’re going to say no a dozen times, and I’m going to do it anyway.”
She glares at me. Then, despite herself, she lets out this small, disbelieving laugh.
It hits me in the chest like a punch. Because College-Stella is back for a minute.
Like the girl who used to argue with me over dumb things and then climb into my lap five minutes later, as if the argument was foreplay.
She calls her mom and Aiden on the drive home, and minutes later, following her directions, I park in the alley behind the shop.
It’s pouring down rain, so we make a run for the stairs leading to the apartment above it.
I follow her pretty ass up the steps, too happy with the view to notice the creaking wood underfoot right away.
Aiden flings the door open, ecstatic to see me.
“Coach Eli!” he shouts, launching himself at me and wrapping his arms around my legs. “Are we really fixing Mom’s car?”
“We are,” I promise.
“Be careful. Keep your raincoat on, Aiden,” Stella gives all kinds of instructions before we finally leave.
He talks my ear off the entire time, but I find out a lot about their living situation as we buy the battery and fix the car.
Like how he hasn’t seen his father since the spring.
Or how he carefully cuts out the grocery coupons in the paper every Sunday for his mom.
He admires my van, touching every button, and hopping across the seats in the back, and tells me their car breaks down often, and it’s the only thing he ever hears his mother swear about.
Funny, but she used to swear like crazy in college. Not one of those girls who had a potty mouth, but more like she knew the most effective punch to give things now and then with a very well-timed curse.
By the time we return to their place, the rain has stopped.
“Buddy, slow down,” I warn as Aiden runs up the stairs.
I pay more attention this time to the fact that they are a death trap waiting to kill someone.
I don’t like how rickety they are one bit.
But I can’t be that protective guy yet, forcing his opinions and views about stairs or where they live without pushing Stella away.
“I run on them all the time,” he shouts back.
“That’s not comforting,” I mutter, praying they don’t buckle under my weight.
He opens the door. “Grandma! Guess what? We fixed Mom’s car. Coach Eli let me help. I pushed the battery into place and helped shut the hood.”
I step into a cozy space where mismatched floral covered cushions and curtains and quilts all somehow make sense. Where scraps of leftover material have turned into rugs, and crafty looking things adorn all the shelves. It’s eclectic but it works.
The older version of Stella stands before me, a slightly faded head of red hair, pinned back, eyes sharp as tacks. The way she looks at me isn’t hostile, more like assessing me.
“Hello, Mr. Lewis,” she greets warmly with a nod.
“Please, call me Eli. I don’t think we were properly introduced.”
“I’m Marjorie. And thanks for rescuing Stella tonight.”
“It was no trouble at all.”
“It’s so nice when a man knows how to take care of things, isn’t it?” Marjorie continues, sweet as pie, aiming her words like a weapon at Stella, who finally appears. She’s changed into dry jeans and—holy hell—my old Tigers sweatshirt. Damn, she kept that thing all these years?
“Nice outfit,” I comment.
She peers down at herself like she doesn’t clock what she grabbed out of her drawer. I can see right through her—she’s thrown it on a hundred times over the years when she needed comforting.
“Stella has a closet full of pretty clothes, yet often chooses to wear old things like this. Now why is that, do you think, Eli?”
“Mom,” Stella admonishes her with a look, and wraps a scarf around her neck.
“What?” Her shoulders come up to her ears.
My mouth twitches at their interaction. I change gears to save Stella from embarrassment. “So, how is the shop doing?”
Marjorie’s expression shifts to real excitement now. “Oh, it’s been strange. Two years ago, we set up a store on our website with hardly an order, but we’ve had more online sales the past two days than ever.”
“Nice.” I hide my grin by clearing my throat. “Ready to go get the car?”
“Bye, Coach.” Aiden waves from the door as we descend the stairs, and I pray it doesn’t buckle under my weight. My mind races. If I buy a house here, what would it take to get Stella to move into it? That’s a big gamble if I could ever get to the place where she’d fall for me again.
In my van, I detect the faint smell of a light perfume wafts in the air. She wasn’t wearing it before. Did she put on for me? Hell yeah, she did, and my sweatshirt, too—like her subconscious knows exactly what it’s doing.
Maybe I’m getting somewhere with her. A good slow burn has ignited; I can feel it. The thought goes right to my cock, which inconveniently twitches. Oh yeah, there’s more to come.
“What else of mine do you have? Some t-shirts? My old jersey? How often do you wear that? Tell you what, if I let you keep my Aspens sweatshirt tonight, will you have coffee with me?” I quip. “You can add it to your Eli collection.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She gives me the side-eye.
“Of course. I always loved seeing you wear my things. Especially with nothing on underneath,” I mutter the last part.
“Eli…” she says it like a warning not to go there. But as soon as I have her in my arms again—and I’m determined I will—I’ll go where I please. Down on her. Thrusting up and into her tight walls. In her mouth… Yeah. Every hole in every way.
“Stella… have coffee with me. Please? I’ll keep asking until you say yes.”
“I forgot how annoying you are when you want something.”
“I call it persistence.”
A snort-laugh escapes her. “I didn’t exactly turn you down when you asked. It’s just that my life is incredibly busy.”
“Then I’ll bring coffee to you and drive you to class for a week so we can talk in the car. Or I’ll accompany you on grocery runs, or—”
“Okay, fine. I’ll have coffee with you. Sheesh.” She chuckles and gives in. “But it’ll be a cup for old times’ sake only. About the past… I don’t see what more we need to talk about.”
“I have a feeling there’s more to our breakup than you let on. Seriously, you came at me with that out of the blue when I thought things were pretty awesome between us. I thought we had a future—”
“Do you want an apology?”
“Sure, if you’re offering.”
“And that’s all you want?” Her eyes lock with mine across the darkness of the car, lingering several seconds before she flutters her lashes and glances away.
“What do you think?” I load that with meaning.
“I have a son now, Eli.”
“I’ve met him. He’s pretty awesome. Wish he were mine.”
“What? If he had been, there was no way you would have been able to be a father, heading into the hockey league at twenty-two.”
“I’d have been there for you and Aiden. Every damn time. More than Jerrod.” One hundred percent better than that fucker Jerrod.
“You don’t know how he was with his son.”
“He’s not here now, and that’s all I need to know.”
“Stop.”
“I won’t. Because I think we took a wrong turn years ago. It should have been you and me together all these years, raising a family, and staying together.”
“No, I mean stop. You passed my car back there.”
“Oh. Right.” Fucking small town. The drive ended right when we were getting somewhere. I doubled back, and she jumped out, tossing a quick ‘thanks again’ back at me. Of course, I followed her home to make sure she made it safely.
In the alley at the shop, I park next to her and quickly hop out. “Look, I don’t mean to pressure you. But don’t you see that we have a chance here again?” I meet her between our cars.
“To do what? Be one big happy family?”
“Why not? We’re two people with a shared past who went their separate ways. Now, here we are. Both divorced. Available. Living in the same area. Something good could come out of it.”
She tilts her head, and the dim light on the back of the building hints at the auburn in her hair. But I can see her eyes this close; she’s searching my face for answers.
Fuck it. I reach up and brush her hair back behind her ears, and cup her cheeks. Her breath hitches and she’s hardly breathing at all while I lift her face to meet mine.
“All I’m asking for is a chance. Do you think you could open yourself up to see what’s possible?”
“Maybe,” she croaks. Her eyes flick to my lips, and she licks hers.
The air between us charges, buzzing through my body.
I’m so close, I could kiss her, steal any remaining breath out of her lungs.
But I don’t. Instead, I bring her into my arms, fitting her under my chin.
My eyes squeeze shut as I breathe her in; our bodies meld together like they always did, saying hello to each other at last. Yeah.
This feels so fucking right, exactly where I want to be.
“Thank you for tonight,” she finally admits, softer and sweeter than she has been. “For everything today. The car. Taking Aiden with you. Giving me time to study. I’m not used to people doing things for me.”
That landed harder than I expected.
“Get used to it, because I’m here.” I let her go and I lean back against my van, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from claiming her lips. “You’re not alone anymore, Stella.”
Her gaze lifts to mine, guarded again. Her walls aren’t entirely down yet, but I’d say there’s a window in the wall that’s been cracked open.
At the top of the stairs, Aiden opens the door and calls, “Good night, Coach Eli!”
“Night, buddy. See you at class.”
Stella ascends the stairs that cry out for a rebuild. “Good night, Eli. Drive safe.”
“Good night, Stella. Don’t forget—you owe me that coffee.”
My pulse rocks hard all the way back to Denver. She’s ready for more. The only question left is how long she can keep pretending she isn’t.