12. Eli
Eli
TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
Fuck.
When did my little sister’s friend become my obsession?
I walked into the library this summer to work on the new bookshelves, and there she was—Kendra Powell.
Tiny, wild blonde hair with streaks of pink woven throughout.
That was new, but it suited her perfectly.
Her bright pools of sliver-blue starry eyes sucked me in the second they locked on me.
The apples of her cheeks turned pink, matching her hair and were so fucking pretty.
Thick straps of her blue sundress framed her shoulders, and the rest of the dress hugged her frame in a delicate, feminine way that could bring men to their knees.
This man certainly wanted to be on his knees for her.
And that was the issue—where the fuck did that come from?
I always liked when Kendra was in Fox Grove for the summers and hanging around with her energy, sunshine personality, quips, and sassy spark making me smile.
Having her in town was something to look forward to each year.
She was good for my sister. But this? This was something totally different.
One week. I did my best to ignore her, or at least these new feelings for her swirling around.
Okay, I didn’t ignore her. I tried to steal glances at her whenever I could. I’m like a drone with a sensor that is locked onto one target—Kendra.
A library patron came in looking for a book to help with a college paper.
He was around our age and obviously flirting with her.
Didn’t like that. Nope. Did I think about whacking him in the head with a board I was carrying past him?
Maybe. Did I actually follow through? No, I’m not a monster.
But I did flex my arm muscles behind him as I walked by, and since I was much taller, did Kendra have a perfect view? Absolutely I did that.
And that is when I saw the way she looked at me.
Then I started to see the way she kept looking at me.
Just like I was trying to steal glances at her, she was playing the same game. It made me wonder just how long she’d been doing that, and how had I been so oblivious to it before this summer?
Dinner at the Den was just the beginning.
I wanted to spend any and all free time I had with Kendra.
Normally I fucked and fled. I had done neither with Kendra.
We hadn’t even kissed. She thinks I have her placed in the friend zone, despite my flirting with her, but my thoughts are anything but.
I need to make her see that things are different with her.
I don’t know why, and it scares the shit out of me.
I can’t clip the string that keeps tugging me closer and closer to this little effervescent pixie.
“What are we doing tonight?” Kendra asks as she watches me pack up my tools. Her cinnamon-colored sundress is blowing in the soft breeze around her knees, whipping up just enough to give me a glimpse of her tanned thigh, making my mouth water with lust.
Licking my lips and dragging my eyes away from her perfect legs, I say, “It’s a surprise.”
“Finally taking me to your murder shed?” She giggles.
I roll my eyes. “No, weirdo. It’s much more romantic than that.”
Eyes going wide, Kendra stammers, “R-romantic?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I said what I said.” Her mouth gapes at the use of sweetheart from my lips for the first time, something I have called her in my mind a hundred times but just now let slip free.
Striding over to her, I take her by the hand and lead her to the passenger side of my beat-up, red Chevy pickup. She climbs in and I grab the buckle, leaning over her to clip it in, not even trying to leave space between us.
“I can do that myself, you know.” Kendra tries to act like she hates it.
“You could, but I take care of what’s mine.” Without second-guessing myself, I lean forward, cupping her soft cheek in my rough hand and kiss her full, plush lips that taste like her berry ChapStick.
Kendra’s gasp gives me the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss, but I don’t take it—she’s not ready yet. I pull back and look at her surprised face, eyes swirling with heat, emotion, and questions.
“What?” is all she can manage.
“I have been fucking dying to kiss you, sweetheart. Dying.” I run a thumb over her wet, tempting bottom lip. It takes everything in me not to dive back in.
“You have? I thought we were—just friends.”
“We are so much more than friends. Don’t you feel it?” I place her little hand over my drumming heart and she sucks in a sharp breath.
“I can’t believe that this is happening right now. I think that I’m dreaming, Eli. Quick, smack me!” Kendra yelps.
“The hell? Kendra, I am not gonna smack you . . . but I will do this.” And then I don’t hold back this time. I go in for another kiss, taking what I need, giving her every ounce of passion whipping through my veins to ground her to reality.
I pull back, her perfect hands gripping tightly to my cutoff T-shirt.
“Holy freaking shit,” she mumbles, then grabs my face and kisses the hell out of me again.