by Emma Hart
“You know you’ve got a mark on your shirt?”
“I have a child. I’m more surprised if I leave the house without anything on my shirt.”
“Fair enough. Um, come in?” I walked backward, almost tripping over my purse where I’d left it on the floor.
“How was your day?” Elliott asked, tinging the air with the awkwardness of small talk.
“Long. Yours? Do you want coffee?” I shuffled into the kitchen. Why were my palms sweating?
What was this madness?
I wiped my hands on my butt and turned on the coffee machine. “Coffee?”
“You already asked me that.” His lips twitched up to the side. “Peyton…Are you nervous?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pulled two mugs down from the cupboard and set them on the side. “You didn’t answer, that’s all, so I repeated myself.”
“You’re a dreadful liar.”
“Actually, I’m a very good liar.”
“All right, that wasn’t such a bad lie.”
I shot a withering look over my shoulder and replaced the pod in the coffee machine.
“I don’t need a coffee. I’m good. But thank you.”
“Oh. Okay.” I didn’t want one either. I just wanted to do something with my hands.
Needed something to do with my hands.
“Peyton.” His voice was lower but closer, and when I turned around, he was right there. His body was so perfectly muscled that he took up all my immediate personal space, and the scent of sawdust and spring air filled my senses.
He smelled like perfection.
I never wanted to smell it again.
“Stop,” he said quietly. “We have to talk about this, and you know it, or you wouldn’t have sent me that text.”
I did know it. I didn’t have to like it, but I knew it.
“We can small talk over coffee, but that’s not me, and that’s not you, so let’s cut that off right away and get right to it.” His eyes settled on mine, and I couldn’t decipher how he felt just from looking at him.
“Okay, fine,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “Let’s go sit and talk about this.”
“Lets. In a second, though.”
“Why not right now? You just said—”
He cut me off with a kiss. One that had his hand curling around the back of my neck and shivers shooting down my spine. It was slow and gentle, his lips moving with mine as if he was committing my mouth to memory.
“What was that?” I asked when he stopped.
Elliott met my eyes and took a deep breath. “When this conversation is over, I might not get to do that again. And I wanted to make sure I could kiss you one more time.”
I swallowed. Hard. I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
Worse? I didn’t know if I wanted that to be the last time he kissed me.
This was dangerous territory right here.
“Right. Well, um. Let’s talk?” Why was I incapable of not just saying it? Why did I keep asking him things?
He nodded. “Let’s talk.”
I skirted around him and led him toward the living room. We both took a seat on my sofa, and I tucked my feet under my butt.
Silence.
I didn’t know what to say. I had so many things I wanted to, I think, but none of them seemed like they were the right thing.
Did I apologize for ignoring him? Did I acknowledge what he’d told me? Did I ask him why he’d told me?
Did I stop thinking and grow a fucking pair?
Chapter Thirteen – Elliott
Not everything in life is worth it.
Honesty. Stress. Staying up all night.
Answering the phone…
She wouldn’t look at me.
I could see it all rolling around in her head, and it was obvious that she couldn’t find the words. I waited another minute for her to say something before I finally gave in and killed the silence between us.
“I’m sorry if I upset you last night.”
She jerked her head up and met my eyes. “I wasn’t upset. I was shocked.”
If emotional walls were real, there would have been a deafening bang as hers went up so fast it broke the fucking sound barrier.
“You looked like I told you I just killed your puppy,” I said. “If that was shocked, then I’ll be damned.”
“I wasn’t upset,” she repeated, lying through her teeth. “I just needed to get away and process it all.”
She was so full of shit.
“Did you?” I’d play along. For now.
“Mostly. I realized I was stupid to not listen to you.”
That sounded like it was the closest to an apology I’d ever get.
I didn’t get it. She’d looked as if I’d gutted her when she left last night, and when I’d gotten here just minutes ago, it’d been obvious she’d wanted to be anywhere but here.
Now, she’d closed off.
And that pissed me off.
“Oh,” I said flatly. “I could have told you that ten years ago.”
Her blue gaze was cutting. “No, you couldn’t have. I wasn’t listening to you back then.”
I almost laughed, but I forced myself not to. I didn’t want to laugh at her. I didn’t want her to be sarcastic—I wanted her to be fucking real and honest.
Something I wasn’t sure she was capable of.
“Is that all we’re saying, then? That you realized you were stupid?” I asked.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” she said, a little more honest this time. “I don’t know if it would have made a difference, but I wish I had.”
“It would have.” I believed that. It would have changed a lot of things. “If we’re done, I’m gonna go.”
She did a double-take, blinking quickly at me. “You’re leaving?”
“I have stuff to do, Peyton. I have laundry to wash. I have to get a stain out of the back of a princess dress. I have to clean up after a tiny human. Not to mention eat, shower, and make sure there are bananas, because all hell will break loose tomorrow if there aren’t. Check calls and emails in case my lawyer has contacted me.” I stood up and, after a couple of steps away from her, turned and looked at her. “I have a million things to do that don’t involve listening to you lie to me.”
“Lie to you?” There was a creak as she got up and followed me. “I told you I was wrong to ignore you.”
“And you said it with the sincerity of a cat walking across your laptop,” I replied, stopping in the doorway to the hall. She froze in the middle of her living room, clutching the bottom hem of her shirt.
I glanced over her. She was fucking beautiful. Dark hair, blue eyes, perfectly pink, bee-stung lips. Curves everywhere you could imagine and legs for days.
But none of that mattered if she couldn’t be honest about what was behind that beautiful exterior of hers.
If she couldn’t break down her wall, I was done. With this conversation, and probably even the stupid experiment that led us here.
“I’m not lying to you,” she said a little softer.
“Maybe you’re not, but you’re not telling me the whole truth. I believe that everything would have been different if I’d been able to tell you the truth about why I stood you up.” I ran my fingers through my hair then shrugged. “But you don’t want to talk about it, and I’m sure as fuck not going to stand here and beg you to. I’m about to enter the fight of my life thanks to Bri’s maternal grandparents. I don’t have the time or the inclination to fight you, too.”
She straightened, defiance flashing in her eyes. “I’m not yours to fight for.”
“I know that. You’ll never be anyone’s but your own because you’re too stubborn to be honest about how you feel. You’re probably not even being honest with yourself right now.”
“There’s no need to be fucking cruel.”
“Cruel? Honesty sucks ass, Peyton, but that wasn’t cruel. That was damn true, and you know it.”
She bristled and po
inted at me. “You don’t know anything about me, Elliott. You have no idea what I’m feeling inside.”
I pointed right back at her. “Because you won’t let me see it! Jesus, woman. This isn’t high school. I’m not going to pick you up just to tear you down because I hate the fact I ever hurt you in the first place. Remember that if it weren’t for you so determined not to fall in love with someone, I wouldn’t even be here right now.”
“Well, I wish you weren’t.”
“There’s something we can agree on. I’ll see you around, Peyton.” I waved a hand in her direction and stormed to the front door. I yanked it open, and it slammed shut behind me as I walked down the steps.
Frustration. It wound me tight. I wasn’t even angry—it was just the sheer irritation at her stubbornness. At how she handled everything.
I just…I wanted to know so I could apologize for every single second I hurt her. As long as she kept those feelings wrapped up and closed off, I couldn’t do that.
And more than anything, I wanted her to know it.
“Elliott!” Her voice echoed down the street behind me, but I ignored her.
I kept walking. Another block to the main road where I could grab a cab and get home.
“Elliott!” she yelled louder this time. “How would it?”
What?
“How would it what?” I finally gave in, stopping a couple houses down from hers. “What are you talking about?”
She stopped, vulnerability shadowed in her gaze. “How would it have been different?”
I said nothing.
That was one answer she wouldn’t want.
“You want to be honest, so be honest with me. How would it have been different if I’d listened to you?” She stared at me, eyes wide and shining, confliction written all over her pretty face. “Well? You can’t demand it of me if you won’t do it yourself.”
“You don’t want that answer,” I told her honestly.
“If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t be standing in the street screaming your name and chasing you.”
“You chased me for ten feet.”
“That’s ten feet further than I’ve ever chased anyone else.”
The honesty in her voice struck me. It was raw—the realness I’d wanted from her.
She was right. I couldn’t demand the total truth of how she felt if I wouldn’t give her the truth, too.
What if this, what she wanted to know, was the final piece for her?
Would she be honest with me after?
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and rolled my shoulders. “You really wanna know what I think would have happened? If you’d stopped for thirty seconds to listen to me when I begged you to?”
She nodded. I had the feeling that, if she could run, she would.
She’d always been curious.
“If you’d let me tell you the truth about my grandmother, it would have been different. Because you’d have listened once, and even if you still hated me, you’d have come around eventually,” I said.
“Is that it?”
“No. What would have really happened… I’d have fallen in love with you.”
She drew in a deep breath. Her nostrils flared, and she flattened her hands against her stomach.
I knew she didn’t want to hear it.
I gave her a half-hearted smile. “See you, Peyton.”
She looked like she wanted to say something, but whatever it was died on her lips. She swallowed, still clutching her hands to her stomach, and dropped her eyes to the ground.
I hesitated for a few seconds before I turned and continued walking. It felt like I’d been kicked in the gut, but it was the right choice.
I was pretty sure of it.
“Stop.”
It was barely there. Almost an uncertain, desperate word that’d escaped without her control.
I did it. I stopped and turned back to look at her. There was only a couple of feet between us, less than I’d thought, so she must have said it really quiet.
I watched as she closed that distance between us. She didn’t speak, but I could see in her eyes that she had, for a fleeting second, let down her barrier.
Bright. Shining. Uncertain. Maybe even a little afraid.
She reached out, ghosting her fingertips across my chest. “I don’t want that to be the last time you kissed me.”
I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant, but she answered me before I could.
She flattened her hands against me and, sliding them to either side of my neck, Peyton went up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine.
My heart beat faster as I wrapped my arms around her body. “What do you want?” I murmured against her lips.
“To take this inside because I left my front door open.”
I closed my eyes and laughed quietly at her. “All right,” I said, opening my eyes. “I’ll try again when we know your house isn’t being robbed.”
“That’s great, thanks.” She grinned and ran down the street to her place.
She was barefoot.
I walked into her house to find her with the freezer door open and her feet inside it. I stopped in the middle of her kitchen and frowned at the sight before me.
I had a toddler. I’d seen some weird shit, but this was right up there with the best of them.
“I might regret this,” I said slowly. “But, what are you doing?”
“The ground was still a little hot,” she replied, tilting her head right back so that she could look at me. “In hindsight, we should have had that whole conversation in here.”
“Well…” I leaned against the fridge, crossing my arms. “That was the original plan for this.”
She wrinkled up her face. “I’m sorry I was stubborn?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“If I say telling, am I doing this whole adult thing right now?”
Laughter bubbled inside me. “You’re doing good at not being stubborn. Given that you’re sitting on the floor with your feet in the freezer, I’d hold off on proclaiming you’re a good adult.”
Peyton sighed heavily just as the freezer beeped. She scooted back on the floor, pulled her feet out, and pushed the door shut. “Now, my feet are cold.”
“Next time you go outside, wear shoes,” I offered, holding out my hands. She put her smaller ones in mine, and I pulled her up to standing. “Now, we’re gonna finish that conversation.”
“Right now?”
“Peyton.”
She flapped her hands, jumping back from me, and make a whining kind of noise. “Okay, fine, just kill me all in one day.”
“It’s good to see you have a handle on that dramatic streak of yours.” I smirked.
She stared at me flatly. “You’re a dick, Elliott.”
“And you’re a drama queen, Peyton. We’re going to finish this conversation even if I have to pin you down to make you talk.”
“I’ll scream.”
“You will when we’re done talking.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but my meaning settled on her and tiny pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “Shut up,” she said. “I knew I shouldn’t have chased after you.”
“Lies. All lies.” I pushed off the fridge and grabbed hold of her. “You chased me because you wanted to. Now, you have to tell me what you want.”
Her fingers tickled across my chest as she fidgeted. “I don’t—I don’t know. I want to hate you again.”
“That was less complicated,” I agreed.
“I want to pretend you never told me the truth, and I want to go back to thinking that you’re a huge asshole who I should have beat with a hockey stick for standing me up,” she continued. “But right now…I want to forget all of that.” She slipped her hands up my chest and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Right now, I want you.”
I raised an eyebrow, something that made her purse her lips. “Go on.”
“Elliott—”
“Nope. Plying me with sex is a cop out, and
you know it, woman. So, you can tell me what you’re supposed to, or you can tell me what you want me to do to you.” I slid my hand down over the curve of her ass and cupped it. “After all, you’re not shy. I know you have a drawer full of toys upstairs.”
“I do still have vintage My Little Pony figures.”
“Not the toys I’m talking about.”
“I know, but they’re not in a drawer. They’re in a locked box in my cupboard, because one time, my grandmother came around, found out, and mistook it for a bathroom decoration.”
I blinked a few times as that settled in. “I have so many questions about that, but they can wait because now you’re really taking the cop out.”
“But, but—”
“No buts. Feelings or fucking. Make your choice before I pin you to the sofa and abstain on the fucking.” As much as I didn’t want to. My cock was already hardening at the thought of being inside her again.
“I want to feel you fuck me. There. I covered both bases.” And judging by the grin that was spreading across her face, she was real fucking proud of herself.
“Jesus Christ, you’re a sarcastic little shit.”
“Don’t be mean.”
“Truth hurts. So does spanking.”
She paused. “Not if you do it right.”
“Truth or spanking?”
“Spanking. The only kind of truth I like is when my bank account tells me I can buy the fancy wine this weekend.”
“I think you look good naked,” I said. “Does that count as a good truth?”
Peyton raised her eyebrows. “I’m not naked right now.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what you look like.”
“Well, then you don’t need to see it again, do you?”
“All right, so I’ll fuck you with my eyes closed. I’m not picky.” I shrugged, and she burst out laughing.
I was bored of this.
I bent down just a little, grabbed her legs, and picked her up. She half-screamed and wriggled, but I had too tight of a grip on her for her to be able to get away.
“What are you doing, you raging Neanderthal?” she demanded as I took to the stairs.
“Me, Elliott. You, Peyton. Me, boner.”
“I should have let you walk away,” she said breezily, tapping her nails against my shoulder. “Should have let you go and gone to look at dick pics.”
