by JA Low
“Stella, no. Please don’t ever think looking after you is a burden,” he tries to reassure me.
“Then what’s the problem?” I ask him directly.
He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a heavy sigh. “Because I can’t get the images of you naked out of my head,” he confesses. I audibly gasp at his words. “I can’t forget the way your lips tasted after our kiss either.”
I bite my bottom lip, just thinking about the way his lips felt against mine.
“I can’t stop thinking about you in your white lace underwear, too.” Oh, I’m speechless. “But most of all, I can’t forget the conversation you had with Ariana.” Huh? “The way you explained to her how over the years my fondness for women and not caring how that affected you and hurt you.”
Damn! EJ was not supposed to hear that conversation. My face turns beet red, remembering the words I spoke. I try to say something, but he shakes his head.
“You owe me nothing, Stella. I’m sorry that I hurt you over the years. I’m sorry I pushed aside the way I felt about you because I was an immature jerk.”
Wait. What did he say? That he felt about me?
“Most of all, I hate that I’ve blown any chance that you might see me for anything else other than the arrogant, egotistical dick that I have been.” He looks up at me and appears genuine with his words. “You don’t have anything to say to me. You owe me nothing. I just don’t want to lose your friendship.”
“Friends?” I question him.
“Yeah. I heard what you said to Ariana. I get it. I’m sorry. I’ve been selfish with my feelings. I’ve only cared about how I felt and railroaded over your feelings.” His words shake me. “Again, I made it all about me.” He looks pained. “Can you forgive me, Stell?”
I’m still speechless over him being so candid because it’s something I have always hoped for—that this stupid crush may one day be returned—but now he’s telling everything I’ve longed to hear. I’m conflicted and confused.
“The last couple of days have been weird,” I begin. “You don’t owe me any apologies. I’ve come in like a wrecking ball into your home. I’ve been a bit of a cranky bitch, too.” EJ begins to argue, but I stop him. “I kissed you back, then blamed you for something I could have stopped but didn’t.” Looking up at him, I say, “Because I wanted to.”
My heart beats out of my chest.
The thud, thud, thud sound of it echoes in my ears.
“Did you now?” He cockily grins. Urgh. Ego, aisle one, I think while rolling my eyes at him.
“Don’t go getting any ideas,” I warn him.
“Me?” He smiles widely again.
“You’re stuck with me for the next couple of months.”
“A lot can happen in that time.” He raises a flirtatious brow.
“Or not,” I add with an equally flirtatious grin.
“Who do you think will crack first?” he questions.
“With what?”
“Sex.”
I still at his answer.
“A couple of months is a long time for both of us to suppress our needs,” he adds.
“Who said anything about suppressing them?” I grin.
“I like the way you think.”
Getting the wrong idea and wagging my finger in his face, I say, “Oh no, you don’t.” I continue while pointing at him. “I brought along a trusty friend who always gets the job done. I won’t need anything else.”
EJ’s jaw drops. “You’re telling me that you’d rather use batteries over the real deal?”
“They get the job done,” I add.
“Bet I can do better,” he goads.
“Aw. Are you jealous of my battery-operated friend?”
“Damn right, I am.” He’s serious. “I bet I could make you come just as well as your friend.”
How the hell has this man made me speechless again? And how on earth have we ventured into the realm of my orgasms.
“No,” I answer him quickly.
“Chicken,” he teases.
“No. I just…” Shaking my head, this is not where this conversation is supposed to be going.
“Think about it. It’s only a bet. Nothing more than a little bit of fun. I just think you’ve been dating the wrong guys.” And with that, he jumps off his bed and strides out of his bedroom confidently.
A little while later, EJ walks back into his room with a set of pink, robotic-looking crutches. “Finally, they arrived.” He grins, standing them up beside his bed. “These are the best kind of crutches on the market. They should take the pressure off your arms as you hobble around.” He smiles.
They look kind of cool.
“Want to test them out?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
EJ helps me out of bed and into the robotic contraption. I push myself up and take a couple of tentative steps from the bedroom and then down the hall and out into the living room. It feels good. There isn’t any pressure on my leg at all. Maybe I can even shower with these on, and I won’t fall over again, saving me from the embarrassment of EJ seeing me naked yet again.
Such a shame, a little voice states in my head. Um… no, it’s not a shame.
I’m trying not to get all caught up in whatever flirtatious web EJ is weaving. He’s bored. I’ve cockblocked him, and I am the closest thing to a woman for him right now. Once I’m all better, he is going to forget about me and quickly.
“Thank you. These are so cool.”
“I’m glad. Don’t forget someone is coming next week to help you exercise. From what I’ve read up on broken legs, you lose muscle mass because you’re not using your leg, which then makes it harder to get back to normal life,” he adds.
It’s a kind thing of him to do, but he knows I’m allergic to the gym.
“I know that face.” Shit, I thought I covered it well. “I also know how much you hate exercising.” He grins. “Honestly, I don’t know how you have the body you have when you don’t work out.” EJ looks me up and down.
“I know I could tone up a little more. Not all of us can be supermodels.” Getting a little defensive over his comments, he bursts out laughing.
“You have no idea how to take a compliment, do you?” he asks with a chuckle. Was he complimenting me? I give him a lost look. He tilts his head to the side, and a tiny frown forms on his face. “Oh… you’re serious. You don’t know when someone is complimenting you.” His face turns a little sad. “Who the hell have you been dating, Stell?”
“I’m not so sure anymore.”
“All I was saying was you have an amazing body.” He gives me an incredibly sexy grin.
Oh, now that is awkward.
“Anyway.” Shaking my head, hoping the heat that I can feel crawling up my neck and onto my face isn’t noticeable.
“Am I making things awkward, Stell?” EJ pushes.
“Don’t you have work to do or something?” Ignoring his question, I try and get used to my new crutches by taking a few more steps.
“Nope. I’m on holiday… carer’s leave. Plus, I’m teaching myself how to delegate. Who knew I could be so good at it?” He grins.
Screw him and his hot smile that makes me tingle.
No.
Not happening.
“Isn’t there some other girl you can harass with your compliments?” I groan, making my way into the kitchen to try and grab a drink from the refrigerator. Well, attempt too, anyway.
“Nope.” He smiles widely.
“Don’t tell me you’ve delegated that out, too.”
EJ bursts out laughing. “Good one, Stells.”
I roll my eyes at him as I navigate the opening of the refrigerator door around my crutches. EJ looks on, and I can see from the corner of my eyes he wants to jump in and help, but I am able to grab a soda in one hand and close the door with the other. The door hits my hand, sending the soda crashing to the floor, piercing a tiny hole in the tin where the tin starts to rotate under the pressure, and soda shoots out everywhere
. I stumble back from the shock of my clumsiness as EJ rushes over.
The kitchen is coated in sticky cola.
As am I.
“I’m so sorry, EJ.” Tears threaten to fall, but I blink them away. I can’t even do something as simple as getting myself a drink.
“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Accidents happen.” He places his hands on either side of my shoulder, and I feel nothing but stupid. I hate this fucking leg. I hate that I’m dependent on someone else, especially him. I hate Dan, and I hate my life. I try to turn to get away from the carnage in the kitchen, but EJ follows me.
“Stell.” He catches up to me quickly, which is annoying as hell. “Hey.” He stands in front of me, blocking my path. “Look at me, Stella.” His voice is commanding, which grabs my attention. “This was an accident. Raina will be here any moment, and she will help me clean it up.”
“I’m useless.” Letting everything get on top of me, I begin to shame spiral.
“Hey.” EJ places his finger under my chin. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself again. Okay?” he states angrily.
I sniffle in response as I try and hold my shit together.
“I understand you must feel frustrated by your leg. You’ve had a real tough time. Add in Douchebag Dan and his dramatics, and then there’s me being stupid. It can be a bit too much for one person to handle.” His face softens as he says the last bit. “Let me take care of you, Stell.”
“I thought I was handling it,” I answer him quietly.
“Do you really?” he questions. “Let me take over, okay? I know this is something you might struggle with, but I promise you, Stell, I’ve got you. Okay?”
Letting out a heavy sigh, I nod my head in agreement.
He’s right.
I’m fighting him every step of the way even though I thought I hadn’t been. But since arriving in his home, I’ve fallen in the bath, in the shower, and now I’ve spilled soda all over his kitchen, and not just the floor. My shoulders sag as I give in and let him take over. EJ unclips me from my crutches, then picks me up and takes me back to my room.
He places me back down on the bed. “I promise, Stell, I can be the person you lean on, rely on.” I can see the sincerity in his eyes. “I may not have shown it over the years, but underneath the playboy façade is a good guy.”
Damn, I feel bad that my words from the other night have hit him so severely.
“EJ…” reaching out to him, “… I know you’re a good guy. You don’t have to prove yourself to me.” I don’t want him jumping through hoops because he doesn’t have to. “I’m sorry what I said hurt you. Honestly, you weren’t even supposed to hear that conversation.”
“Exactly. I wasn’t supposed to hear what you think.” He gives me a sad smile.
“EJ.”
He shakes his head. “Stell, it’s all good. Do you have everything you need?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Yes, thanks.”
“Great. I’ll let you rest. Call me if you need anything.” And with that, he walks out of my room, and I let him this time.
17
EJ
My phone begins ringing off the hook, over and over again, but I catch it on the third time.
“Hey. What’s going on?” Seeing my sister’s name flashing across the screen, panic seeps through to my bones.
“Emma’s left Anderson.”
“No.” I am genuinely shocked at my sister’s statement.
“We think she might be in France with her sister,” she explains.
Okay, that’s understandable.
“What about Andy?” I ask.
“He’s jumping on his jet and chasing after her,” she tells me.
Geez, that poor guy. He was worried the other night when we caught up that she would bolt, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever suspect that she would. “Should we be packing?” I ask.
“No. I think it should be between them. They both know we love them and are here for them no matter what,” my sister says sadly.
“Let me know if you need anything,” I tell her before hanging up. I head on to Stella’s room. “Did you hear what’s happened?” I ask.
“Ariana just called me. Is Ems okay?” I can see the concern on her face.
“Just got off the phone from Chlo, and she said they suspect she is on her way to France to see her sister.”
Stella nods her head in understanding. “Would make sense needing your family during this time.”
Stella’s words hit me. Does she need her family? I didn’t think she got on with her dad after he remarried her mom’s best friend after she passed. But maybe near-death makes you forget all the bullshit.
“Do you want to see your family?” I ask.
She pauses. “God, no.” She shakes her head. “Dad doesn’t even know I’ve had a car accident.”
“Don’t you think he should know?”
She shakes her head. “Not after what he did to Mom.” Her voice wobbles with emotion.
Two months after her mother passed away, her father started dating her mother’s best friend. He moved her into the ranch, and the woman took over where her mother left off. Stella was heartbroken. As the youngest of her four siblings, she took her father moving on the hardest. From what Stella has told me, her siblings were okay with it all as long as their dad was happy. But I get where Stella’s coming from. If only one of my parents had passed away, and a couple of months after losing their partner, they ran off with their best friend, I’d be upset too. I’d be questioning their life choices.
Stella packed up after she graduated from college, left her small town in Montana, and moved to New York. She put as much distance as she could between her and her family. And she hasn’t been close to them since, which is sad because I couldn’t imagine not having Chloe in my life. Even though we have lived in different states and even other countries, I still made time for her where I could.
“I know,” I reassure. “I just…” Letting out a heavy sigh. “If anything happened to either of you, I think the other would be upset that they didn’t try and make some kind of amends.” Pushing the delicate subject, she looks down at her hands as she twists her fingers together.
“Maybe you’re right.” She huffs.
“Look… nothing can erase the past. Your feelings are valid, Stella. But they are still together.”
She looks up at me and sighs. “I know,” she agrees but doesn’t look happy about that fact.
“If you aren’t up with talking to your dad, what about your brothers and sister?” I ask.
“I see your point,” she grumbles, which makes me smile.
“Life’s too short, Stell,” I remind her. Because every day I wake up and know she’s safe and well in her bed, I can breathe a sigh of relief. I can’t comprehend life without Stella in it.
She gives me another smile. “You think Anderson and Emma will be okay after all this?” She’s changed the subject.
“I sure as hell hope so.”
“I should have called her more,” Stella muses.
“You’re in recovery yourself,” I remind her.
“Seems like Emma needed us more.”
I take a seat beside her on the bed and rest my head back against the headboard and turn to look at her. “You can’t always put others before you.”
It kills me to say it, but I’ve taken advantage of Stella’s good nature over the years. I know it’s her job to look after me, but not twenty-four-seven like I let her. I’m not picking up the pieces after the wild nights and smoothing over situations with exes. I let her do all of that because I was caught up in the adoration of being Elliot Jones, chef extraordinaire.
I should be taking a leaf out of my friend’s book, Sebastien Sanchez, and thrown in the towel of always chasing Michelin stars and adoration from the culinary community and just do what I love—make great food. He packed up his life in LA after becoming a successful celebrity chef with his show and famous restaur
ant and went back to his Spanish roots. He fell in love with his co-star, and now they’re happy living the rustic life in rural Spain.
Not sure if I could go that far across the world because I do love New York. When you are at the top of your industry, I also know that work becomes your life, and the passion you once loved becomes more of a chore. I’m not there yet, thank goodness.
“I know,” she agrees. “There are some things about the old Stella that I want to change.”
Her answer gives me pause. Does she want to quit her job and do something else?
“You’re irreplaceable, Stell. But I’d understand if you want to work for someone else.”
Stella bursts out laughing, which is not the reaction I was expecting.
“One, you couldn’t cope without me.” This is absolutely true. “And two, I love my job.” She grins. “No. First things first, no more dating strippers.”
“I agree.”
“No more dating losers in general.” Also, perfectly accurate. “I think I’m going to work on me for a while,” she adds.
“What do you want out of life then?” I ask, curious over her answer.
“Wow. We are going there, huh?” She giggles. “Let’s get into some existential life questions.”
“It’s not like we have anywhere to be.”
“We do have Netflix, though?” she jokes.
“This is true, but humor me.” Laying back a little further, getting myself comfortable, I wait for her answer.
“Fine. But I want to know where you see yourself in five years, too.”
“I’m going to be closer to forty than thirty and still running around town working, but hopefully with a couple more restaurants under my belt.” That was always my goal to slowly build a restaurant empire.
“Will you still be in New York?” Stella asks.
“New York is in my blood, but I’m not sure.” As a frown falls across my face, I hadn’t really thought about it.
“Noah and Logan have moved to the suburbs. Do you think you would join them? Open a restaurant in Connecticut?”
