Chapter 11
Aurelia
Present
It’s been a couple of days since training with Elijah. He’s given me time to heal since the ropes tore into my wrists so viciously that my skin peeled, raw and slick, nearly infected.
Now I sit outside in the fog-consumed courtyard, spread across our pool chairs, even though it’s way too cold to swim today. It’s that in-between season—some days bright and warm, others grim and grey. I kind of like this better. More peaceful.
A loud cough interrupts my solitude, and I turn to see Elijah hovering over my chair.
“Are you sick?” I ask.
“No, it’s just kind of cold.”
“Well, you sound sick, so can you back up?”
“Um, no, because then I can’t see you through the fog.”
I glare at him. “Aren’t you bored?” He stares ahead and says nothing. “I won’t tell Enzo; you can go inside and watch TV or something.”
“No,” he says cold and sure.
“Okay.” I lie back down and close my eyes.
“Aren’t you bored?” he asks this time.
Which is strange because he hasn’t initiated any conversation with me since that night.
“No, I think a lot.” He doesn’t reply, so I keep going, “I think better when I’m alone.”
“What do you think about?”
Wow, he must really be bored.
“I don’t know, life and my future.” I shrug.
“What future?” He whispers.
My mouth opens, and I sit up to turn and face him. That’s when I see the smile on his face. “You’re an ass.”
His smile turns to laughter. “Come on, Ace, that was funny.”
“Yeah, it’s so funny that I’m gonna die.”
“Not on my watch,” he replies, reaching for my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.
I should hit his hand away, but I can’t help that I still crave his touch.
I swallow nothing and hold his gaze.
After a minute, he says, “What’s with the outfits since I started?”
A grin fills my face. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He returns the smile. “Well, I may not have been your primary protector, Ace, but I still noticed you, and you weren’t dressing like this with Enzo.”
I look down at my navy low-cut long-sleeve shirt and white sweat shorts that sit quite high near my hips when I’m sitting like this.
“It’s literally just regular clothes, you perv.” I push his hand off my head and sit back down facing the pool.
Yes, you don’t have to imagine as much with this outfit, but I’m not naked, for god’s sake, so I don’t like the insinuation—pointing out what I am, in fact, doing.
“Perv?!” he shrieks.
It comes out high-pitched, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You’re not even two years younger than me.”
“If that makes you feel better.” I shrug.
“Sure,” he nods, “just keep your wrists covered so they don’t scar.”
I flash my arm up to him so he can see my obvious long sleeves.
He shakes his head, but we don’t necessarily stop talking. Small comments spread across the next hour, and it’s different—almost friendly.
* * *
When we get back inside, a wave of strange strength washes over me. He notices me. Whether or not he admits it out loud, he does. So I’m going to try.
I slide onto a stool at the kitchen island, the cool countertop grounding me, and unwrap a protein bar. Elijah is staring—just staring—without a word, his fork paused midair.
I take a slow breath, letting the calm settle over my shoulders, and meet his gaze.
I straighten my back, push my hair behind my ears, and let the smallest hint of a smile touch my lips.
“I’d like to shower now,” I say, my voice carrying more control than I feel.
He accepts my request and escorts me to my room, where Leo stands outside the door.
Fuck, they really are being more protective than usual this week.
Getting to the door, I smile at Elijah. “I need your help getting into the shower.”
Leo’s head doesn’t move, but he side eyes me and Elijah with an almost humorous look.
We both know he won’t tell anyone.
“Why would you need help?” Elijah replies quick.
I flash my wrists to his face. “They burn in the water.”
His eyes flick to Leo, but he steps into my room despite the hesitation.
I try to push the door closed—this is it, the moment he finally caves—but his foot blocks it.
“Let’s leave it open so no one gets the wrong idea.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
What’s wrong with this guy? Does his dick even work?
I roll my head back, adjusting the plan.
“Fine.”
I start with my shirt, pulling it off and throwing it on my bed.
Leo’s body visibly tenses, and Elijah steps in front of his view.
“Stop.”
I shrug and keep going, sliding my fingers under the band of my bra.
I’m just about to undo it when I hear the soft click of the door closing behind Leo—his heavy breathing still leaking into the room.
I don’t stop. I keep my eyes on Elijah, unhook the bra, and drop it onto the same spot where my shirt landed.
And still, Elijah holds my eyes.
“You’re still not interested?” I ask.
“You know I can’t.” His voice comes out raspy, almost painful for him to say.
“Okay.” I nod with a fake agreement and move around him.
Leo’s not nearly as strong; his eyes drop immediately. But I step into him, pressing my lips to his.
His hands find my back instantly, pulling me in as if there’s any possible way to get me closer.
My mouth widens, and I allow his tongue entrance, kissing him with a dramatic flare that I’m hoping will get Elijah’s attention.
Leo’s not a bad kisser by any means, nor a bad guy, so I have to admit I feel a little guilty betting on his life right now. But I’m really hoping I know Elijah as well as I think I do, and this will work.
I push harder, letting my hands tangle in Leo’s hair, grabbing him, pretending to be desperate for his touch, when, as expected, Elijah’s hand clamps down on my shoulder.
The sudden weight jolts me back, my chest tightening as I watch him draw his gun, aiming it squarely at Leo’s head.