Beautifully Hurt (Beautifully Broken)

Feeling a little down, I get up from the stool and walk over to the jukebox. I stare down at the selection of songs to choose from.

I put in a coin then press the button for Feels Like Home by Edwina Hayes.

My fingers trail over the jukebox as the first notes of the song fill the air.

I don’t have the courage to tell Eli I’m in love with him, but I hope he’ll listen to the song's words because it says everything I can’t.

When I turn around, it’s to see Eli rise to his feet. He walks toward me, and with the corner of his mouth lifting, he says, “Seeing as you selected the song, we should dance.”

A smile breaks out over my face, and when he pulls me into his arms, I could almost die from how good it feels.

I place one hand on his shoulder and rest the other in his palm, the feel of his skin sending an electric shock up my arm. We begin to sway, and glancing up, my lungs forget how to function from Eli looking down at me.

Do you feel this between us, or is it just me?

Eli lets go of my hand, and then he pulls me right against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. His hand settles on the back of my head, and I rest my cheek beneath his chin.

He doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s holding me… it can’t just be friendship… it feels like more… like home.

I wrap my arms around his waist, soaking in how amazing it feels to be held by him.

When the song ends and another starts, Eli doesn’t let go of me, and we continue to dance.

I’m wrapped in a bubble of bliss, the moment so perfect I can almost convince myself we’re a couple, and Eli loves me.

Almost.

Too soon, the song ends, and this time Eli lets go of me. His hand slides to the side of my neck, and his thumb brushes over my skin as he murmurs, “Thanks for the dance.”

I nod and clearing my throat, I say, “I should be the one thanking you.”

We head back to the counter, and then Jason and Eli get lost in a conversation about the porch Eli still has to build.

Katie nudges me with her elbow and leans in. “That looked more than friendly.”

“I wish,” I mumble.

God, do I wish.

ELI

I’m busy hammering nails into the railing I’m putting up for the porch when movement catches my eye. Glancing up, the breath leaves me in a rush at the sight of Quinn walking across the front yard.

She’s wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, her hair up in a ponytail. Somehow this girl just keeps getting prettier every time I lay eyes on her.

Her mouth curves up in a smile, and when she reaches me, she holds up a basket. “I made cupcakes to say thank you for all your help.”

“Yeah?” Grinning, I pull the cloth draped over the basket to the side, exposing all the cupcakes.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made vanilla and chocolate ones.”

“Both,” I reply. “I love both.”

Honestly, I’d eat anything she baked if it would make her happy.

“I’ll make the coffee,” I say as I take the basket from her.

Quinn follows me inside. When I’m done with the porch, the house will be finished. Then I’ll get started on the yard.

I set the basket down on the kitchen table, and as I take two plates from the cupboard, I say, “I’m going to Tidewater Plaza to get a couple of things for the house. Do you want to come along?”

I set the plates down and glance at Quinn as she answers, “Sure, that’ll be fun.”

“I could use a woman’s eye, or this place will end up looking like a bachelor’s pad,” I joke.

Quinn lets out a burst of laughter, and I swear the sun shines brighter. “There’s nothing wrong with it looking like a bachelor’s pad. You’re a bachelor after all.”

Hopefully not for long.

I make two cups of coffee and set one down in front of Quinn. After taking a seat, I pull the basket closer and ask, “So which do you like more?”

I take out a vanilla cupcake and a chocolate one, holding them up.

“Vanilla,” she grins at me.

I set the cupcake down on a plate for her, but Quinn’s eyes are locked on me as I take a bite of the chocolate one. She tilts her head, her eyes sparkling while she waits to hear what I think of the sugary goodness.

I keep her waiting as I take another bite, laughter bubbling up in my throat when she shifts in her chair. She tilts her head the other way as if she’s going to burst from not knowing what I think of her baking skills.