Chapter 2 #2
“Were you expecting me?” He gives me a hopeful look, one that I have to look away from. I don’t want to see anything in his features, hear anything in his voice, that will make me feel anything but the detachment I’ve managed to hone when it comes to him.
Or that I think I’ve honed for him. The way my hands are shaking, I’m not sure I have it as mastered as I may have believed.
“If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve cancelled the appointment.”
“Ellie,” he breathes, “I just want to say—”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything,” I say simply. “I didn’t know it was you coming as much as you didn’t know it was me you were coming to. No harm, no foul.”
We stand in the middle of Halcyon, watching each other from opposite sides of a trench dug deeply between us so long ago. There are so many landmines scattered around us, things ready to explode, and I know he feels it too. It’s best we just end this now.
“We don’t have a need for security,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ll thank Mallory and tell her we decided it wasn’t necessary.”
“Wait. Mallory? As in Mallory Sims?”
I nod.
He looks at the ceiling and laughs. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”
“Me too,” I mutter under my breath. “How do you know Mallory?”
“She’s dating my brother, Graham. They’re living together, actually.”
“Oh,” I say, pulling my brows together. “That’s so odd. She couldn’t have known that you and I, um …”
There’s no easy way to say what we were to each other. The fact of the matter is, I’m not even sure myself. I’m not about to open up that can of worms and let all of that mess out in the middle of the store. Not with Violet around. Not after all these years.
It’s done. I loved him. I needed him. He left me. Done.
His lips press together as he struggles with how to respond. Finally, he shrugs. “I know it seems odd, but with Mallory in the mix, it just got a whole lot less random. How do you know her?”
“I just started taking yoga at her studio. This security thing was a ‘token of friendship,’ she called it, for Violet and I. But, as we can see, it’s totally unnecessary.”
Turning on my heel, I take precisely one step before he speaks.
“I’m happy to draw up a security plan,” he offers. There’s something hidden in those words, an emotion I’m not interested in picking apart. Instead, I face him.
“We don’t need you. Thank you though.”
“I didn’t say you needed me.”
We exchange a look, mine verging on a glare, his something else entirely.
“Look, Ellie, I—”
Silencing him with a shake of my head, I half-laugh. “I don’t know what you’re going to say, but I don’t want to hear it.”
His face falls a bit. “What if I wanted to say I’m sorry?”
“I would try not to laugh.”
“Ellie—”
“If you’re sorry for what you should be, you’re about a decade too late.”
“I know.”
For a split second, I look at him objectively.
There’s a hint of sadness behind those baby blue eyes, and if I looked deep enough, I would remember the Ford I used to know.
A look of vulnerability. A glimpse of uncertainty.
Not the fine-as-hell man in front of me, but the boy that wasn’t sure how he fit in the world around him.
It’s a good thing I don’t look too hard because it makes it that much easier to remember everything else.
“What’s been going on with you?” He leans against the wall, finding his footing. The hesitation has cleared from his eyes and he’s watching me now, looking for a weakness.
He’s my weakness. It’s a good thing he doesn’t know that.
“I don’t have time for small talk,” I scoff, feeling my determination to resist him begin to wane. “I have a million things to do.”
“As do I,” he grins. “But my day was scheduled prior to knowing you were in town.” He shoves off the wall, towering over me with his six-foot-three frame. “It’s been a long time, Ellie.”
“Not long enough.”
Instead of backing him down, my words seem to only rile him up. He grins. The asshole grins at me.
My eyes involuntarily roll in my head. “Some things never change.”
“You’re right. Some things don’t.” His head cocks to the side, his smile deepening. “And some things do.”
“I’m not playing words games with you,” I huff. “Why don’t you see yourself out?”
“Why don’t you go to dinner with me?”
“What part of this conversation are you not understanding?” I take a step towards him, my eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you in my building, and I sure as hell don’t want to go to dinner with you.”
It’s only when I’m standing directly in front of him, head tilted back to look into his face, close enough to be able to lean my head against his chest and have him wrap his powerful arms around me, do I realize what a bad idea this was.
Our breathing quickens, his eyes growing stormy. A chill tears through me as he accidentally-on-purpose brushes his arm against mine. It’s like muscle memory, my body remembering exactly what to do around his.
My knees dip, my mouth waters, and I fight the ache in between my thighs as he looks down at me like it’s me he wants for dinner.
“What if I throw breakfast in afterwards?” he prods. “Does that make me, I mean it, more appetizing?”