Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emily
As they leave, Leo gives me an encouraging look and a wink, which I return with a wan smile.
Those penetrating eyes of his see all, and I’m certain he knows more than I think he does.
Dean gives my hand a little squeeze with a sheepish look.
I smile at him gratefully. I’m sure many people would think that the exchange we had this afternoon was wrong, but I cannot help being thankful that he gave me the inside track.
Be gentle with him, he says to me. I nod.
“I will,” I whisper. He nods, and knocks on the counter as he leaves, like he’s knocking on wood.
I lock up, and then take a deep breath as I approach Eli’s studio door, steeling myself for the conversation ahead. It’s probably going to be uncomfortable, maybe even mortifying, but I know deep down that he’s worth it.
I knock lightly.
“Yo,” he calls back, and I gingerly enter.
He’s sat at a table in the corner, surrounded by balls of screwed up paper from his sketch pad, in which he seems to be idly doodling now. He looks up, and his eyes sharpen when he sees it’s me. He stands, and the sketch pad gets knocked to the floor, forgotten.
It occurs to me too late that, much like when he knocked on my door last night, I haven’t prepared anything to say.
But then words come out of my mouth anyway.
“Screw it,” I say decisively, “I trust you.”
His eyes widen.
“I’m so sorry I was so...I should have listened better this morning - ”
I don’t manage another word before he strides over to me and engulfs me in a warm hug, stroking his thumb over my shoulder and resting his face on the top of my head.
He takes a deep breath, as though steadying himself.
All at once, I feel safe. I feel like this has all been a stupid misunderstanding, and that everything’s going to work out.
I don’t feel afraid. Not of him. And I wasn’t afraid to disagree with him this morning, either, which is astonishing and completely out of character for me.
I want to tell him exactly that, because it’s maybe the biggest compliment I can give him.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Em,” he mumbles into my hair. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel bad, or to give you mixed signals - ”
“It’s OK,” I assure him in a whisper.
“It’s not OK,” he insists. “I should never have made you feel that way. I just...fuck, I do not want to ruin this…”
“You haven’t.” I take a shaky breath and pull back.
“I’m...sorry I tried to force things.” I’m excruciatingly embarrassed, but I need to apologise and make this right.
It wasn’t cool. “I didn’t mean to be so.
..pushy, or to force the issue. I just thought you’d like it if I… ” I trail off, my face on fire.
“Hey,” he says, his voice full of feeling as he tucks my hair behind my ear, “you have nothing to apologise for.” He says it so sincerely that I instantly feel better.
One thing about Eli is that he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean.
“And I’m being one hundred thousand percent honest when I say that it really and seriously wasn’t that I didn’t want you.
As I hope my body made clear,” he says with a half smile.
It’s enchanting to see this big guy blushing, and I feel my own face warming some more as well at the reminder of his erection pressed up against me as we kissed.
“That kiss was...fuckin’ amazing…” He trails off, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Until it wasn’t?” I ask softly. He gives me a guarded look. “Go on,” I encourage gently. “I won’t get angry. I need to hear this stuff. I have to admit, though, I don’t fully understand what you said this morning, about…”
He sighs. “When you reached for my belt,” he manages, looking like he’s trying to be careful with his words, “it felt like...I don’t know how to describe it.
Like I wasn’t kissing you anymore. It felt like you wanted to impress me, and do just what you thought I wanted to do, or what you thought I expected of you, y’know?
And like the real you had vanished...when the real you was all I wanted.
” He leans down and rests his forehead gently on mine.
“You don’t have to pretend, or put on a show.
Not for me. I don't want fake. I want real.”
I think about what he’s said.
He’s...not wrong. Which is kind of a shock.
I hesitate at first, but then I just go for broke. “But sex is what I bring to the table,” I tell him in a choked voice. “It’s...always been the one thing I can contribute. The one thing I’m good at in relationships...the one thing I’m good for.”
“Em,” he says sadly, “that’s just not true.”
I feel tears well up in my eyes. I’m touched by his words, but also painfully confused by them.
“I don’t know what you want,” I burst out, a catch in my voice as I hang onto his ever-so-sexy muscular arms. He’s an absolute dream, and I’m almost certain I’m going to ruin this, which makes me more desolate than I thought.
Shit. Turns out, though I’m afraid of something serious developing between us, I’m finding myself more afraid of nothing developing at all.
“I don’t know what you need from me, but I don’t want to lose.
..whatever is happening. I really don’t.
I’m...completely lost here. Please, just tell me what to - ”
“It’s OK,” he soothes me gently. There’s a tear spilling down my cheek.
He leans back and carefully wipes it away with his thumb.
“I want you,” he whispers. “The real you. Good mood, bad mood, happy, sad, angry, whatever...just as you are in the moment, with no hiding and no fronting. That’s what I need from you. ”
I press my lips together to try to keep from bawling in his arms at the bewildering and wonderful thing he just said.
“Eli...I’m a mess,” I say falteringly. “I’m battle scarred and scared shitless.
You cannot possibly want to have to deal with that, especially not without.
..I dunno, like, me making it worth your while… ”
He looks at me thoughtfully. “We’ve all got shit to deal with,” he says finally.
“But maybe, we've both earned a reward, and it doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that. And that’s what we could be for each other.
Maybe we fuckin’ well deserve it.” He runs a hand gently up my neck to tangle in my hair.
“You don’t just bring sex to the table, Em.
I mean, not to be an arrogant jackass or nothin’, but if that’s all I wanted, I could do what Leo does, go out to a club and get laid for the night pretty easily.
And I’ve done that a few times. But with you.
..I want more than that, because I don’t just want you.
..I like you. I like who you are. I want more with you.
And I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, and I’ll deal, and I volunteer for this, OK?
I am officially signing up for all of you.
All of you, for good or bad,” he says, very sincerely, and oh my holy wow, I actually believe him.
I slide my arms around his waist and cuddle into him. Without hesitating, he wraps his arms around me, smelling my hair as he sighs.
One moment of outstanding bravery, I remind myself. I have no clue where I get the courage from, but I find myself opening my mouth and asking, in a quiet voice, “What if...what if I asked you to be mine?”
“Then I’d be yours,” he whispers back immediately, with zero hesitation.
He pulls back and cups my face with his left hand, making my legs weak.
I’ve always found that to be one hell of a sexy move when I’ve seen it in films, and I am no proof against it in real life.
“I want us to try this, Em. For real. I want you to...be my girl.” He looks me in the eye, searching for my reaction, and I’m touched by the nervousness I see there.
I take a deep breath, and, though I cannot deny my anxieties and my scars left over from Gav, I also cannot deny that every cell in my body breathes a sigh of relief whenever Eli walks into the room, as though everything is going to be OK because he’s there.
And that’s not the kind of feeling I can walk away from, no matter what’s happened to me in the past. No.
..because of what’s happened to me in the past. “OK,” I reply, very, very softly.
His eyes light up with relief, and I close my eyes and relish every second as he kisses my forehead.
We stay in each other’s arms for long seconds, and then another impulsive idea comes to me.
I smile. It’s perfect. It’s the best way I can think of to show him I do actually trust him.
So I take a deep breath and look him in the eye.
“I want you to give me a tattoo,” I say, decision made.
“Yeah?” He blinks in surprise. I nod. He gives me a searching look. “Are you sure? I know you said you’re nervous of getting some ink done. You have nothing to prove, you know that, right?”
I run a finger over his chest thoughtfully, enjoying the way his flesh quivers slightly under my touch.
Well, that’s...gratifying. “I know. But I want one, and I want to feel the fear and do it anyway. It seems appropriate to do it right now.” I lean forward and hide my face on his scrumptiously well-defined pecs.
“And...obviously my first tattoo should be done by my, uh...my super talented...boyfriend.” I stay still, trying out the word and waiting with baited breath for his response.