Chapter 17 Madelina #3
I bow my head, crushed beneath the weight of his accusations. “What did you come here for? To remind me how much of a disappointment I am? Now that Aston isn’t your son, I’m supposed to bear the blame for everything?”
“Dammit, Madelina! I need you to fix what you’ve so carelessly broken.”
My lips tremble from the realization that I’ll never have what I’ve so desperately wanted my entire life. A father who loves me unconditionally.
“I needed my dad!” I shout in return. “In all this chaos, I just needed you to tell me it would be all right.” I step back into the hallway and open the door wide, a silent invitation for him to leave.
“You made a big mistake, Madelina,” he declares, trying to lure me in with his narcissistic tone.
“Maybe I did,” I say with a heaviness inside my chest.
With those words hanging in the air between us, he turns on his heel and walks away.
An all-too-familiar pang of disappointment reminds me that Aston was right. My father is a selfish man who will only ever care about himself.
Pacing the hallway, a restless energy claws at my insides. My eyes catch sight of my car keys resting on the nightstand, and with a sudden urge to get the hell out of here, I snatch them up and dash out of my apartment.
I need to see Elliot.
By the time I reach the boat, darkness envelops me like a thick blanket, but a warm light glows from Elliot’s bedroom window.
I knock softly, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. There’s no answer, so I knock again, this time with a heavier thud.
The door swings open and Elliot is standing across from me in his boxers with his torso completely exposed. I trace his abs with my heated gaze. Damn, why does he have to look so sexy?
For a moment, silence sits between us, but then I remember the argument with my father.
“I… I need a friend,” I stammer, fighting back the tears threatening to unleash.
Elliot steps aside, allowing me to enter, and his scent instantly fills the air, wreaking havoc with my ability to think straight.
He leads me toward his bedroom, where the soft glow of a bedside lamp highlights the pages of a book he had been lost in.
I catch the title briefly, and like I saw before, it’s a thriller.
Without hesitation, he climbs back into bed as I stand at the edge, wondering why I bothered to come if he’s going back to bed to read.
“Where were you today?” I question, trying to hold back my annoyance.
Elliot crosses his arms defensively. “It doesn’t matter where I was.”
“It matters to me,” I tell him, while pointing to my chest. “You didn’t bother to tell me, but you had all the time in the world to speak to Billie.”
“I needed time to process,” he replies, sarcasm lacing his words.
I place my hands on my hips. “Process what?”
“Why are you here?” he shoots back, his intense gaze piercing through my defenses.
I begin pacing the room but, given that it is a houseboat, I have to turn back after four steps to the right. “My father came to see me tonight, and it didn’t end well,” I confess, barely able to get out my words.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replies, softening.
I halt mid-pace, my breath hitching as I struggle to find my voice.
“He doesn’t care what I think or feel. And the worst part is, Aston was right.
” I sigh. “All these years, I’ve let Aston take the blame for everything, and now…
now it’s my turn. I’m not the daughter he wants, and he’s not the father I need. ”
Elliot remains still, listening to me with a sympathetic expression.
My lips quiver as I clutch my stomach, raw and vulnerable, inside his room. “I just feel so alone.”
As I bare my genuine emotions, Elliot’s demeanor shifts. His previously rigid stance relaxes as he pats the bed beside him and whispers, “Come here.”
Without a word, I kick off my shoes and climb into bed beside him. Resting my head against his bare chest, I bask in the touch of his skin, and how lying here with him feels safe, like nothing I’ve felt before.
I lift my head, our eyes locking in a moment charged with unsaid truths.
“Elliot,” I call softly, my voice fragile.
“Yes, Bugs?”
“I know it’s worth the wait,” I breathe.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, desire flickering through his expression.
I slide closer, moving carefully, so our faces hover mere inches apart. It’s easy to see Elliot is battling with himself to play by the rules, but I’m done with the damn rules. The persistent ache demanding his attention fuels my boldness.
“Friends can have benefits, too, you know,” I tease gently.
His gaze remains tethered to my lips, the simple act of restraint turning me on even more.
“Are you saying you want to hook up… no strings attached?”
“No strings attached,” I assure him, the thrill of the moment leaving me breathless.
“None at all? Not even a small piece of thread?” He searches my eyes, wrestling with the unspoken tension between us.
I shake my head, and all I can think about is him sliding inside of me and bringing my entire body to a blissful finish.
“Elliot, fuck me,” I beg.
I’ve broken all the rules and found myself promising a night of harmless fun, when the truth is, my heart’s invested, too.
That’s one of the biggest strings, and it’s firmly attached.