“I know. And I appreciate that, baby, I really do.” He turns his hand over to grasp mine. “There’s really not that much to say, honestly. We’ll close for good on Tuesday. Naomi is takin’ care of the bulk of what needs to be done.” He shrugs, giving my hand a squeeze before standing. “But I don’t want to think about that shit. It’s depressing. I want you. You make me happy.”
I look at him, the fire reflecting in his dark pupils. “I want you, too. Of course I want you. But if you’re not feeling okay, I’d like you to tell me about it.”
“The only thing that makes me feel better right now is being with you.” His eyes are pleading. “So let me be with you. The way I want.”
A voice in the back of my head nags me to push him on this. I’m delighted that I make him feel better. But I’m not doing that by addressing his problem. By talking him through it.
I’m doing it by fucking his brains out.
Something about that feels…weird, I guess. Am I some kind of sexual Band-aid?
But the feeling passes when he smiles at me and takes my plate and kisses me, hard. The kind of intentional, soul-searing kiss I’ve come to expect from him.
A man does not kiss a Band-aid like this.
So I make a mental note to ask Eli about The Jam later on. In the meantime, I am going to make him feel better.
Much, much better.* * *As we pack up that Sunday, I steal one of Eli’s shirts, sneaking it into my bag. He doesn’t seem to wear shirts all that often anyway. And I want to keep a little piece of him with me. Want to wear his shirt to bed so I can smell him when we’re not together.
We drive home at sunset. My mind wanders as we make our way through the low country, the trees lit up in fiery shades of orange and yellow and brown. The fear of missing out has kept me on a straight and narrow path. Fear that I’ll miss having it all.
I never wondered what I was missing out on by being on that path.
This.
I missed this. Eli’s big hand on my thigh. Feeling deliciously tender and achy in every corner of my body. Crisp autumn air blowing through the windows, sending my hair flying every which way. Good, hard writing behind me. Good, hard writing ahead. No Sunday scaries here. I’m excited about tomorrow.
This is what I’ve been missing out on all this time.
It hurts to think about giving it up.
I look at Eli. Clean and confident and calm. Handsome as hell. The ache inside my chest and between my legs intensifies.
The cool air feels so good on my skin. It’s overwhelming.
It’s exactly what I didn’t know I wanted until now.* * *It’s dark by the time Eli pulls into his narrow driveway.
“Stay,” he says, shoving the gearshift into park.
For a second, I think he’s asking me to stay stay. The leave-New-York-and-stay-in-Charleston-forever kind of stay.
The answer comes to me with gut-quick certainty.
Yes.
My hand shakes as I reach for the door handle. The rumble of the truck’s engine suddenly seems enormous, throbbing in time to my heartbeat.
Did I really just make my decision?
Am I really going to leave everything behind and start over?
For weeks now, that seemed impossible.
Now it seems inevitable.
I just don’t know what I’m going to do about my job. I can’t write full time. At least not until I have a better idea of how I can make real money doing it.
Christine having her baby also means I have no one to take over my classes in New York for the rest of the semester. There’s a good chance that will fall to me. Which means I’m going to have to go back to Ithaca, at least until the end of December.
But I have contacts in Charleston now. I’m growing a small but mighty network. I’ll start tapping into that. See if I can’t figure something out. Piece together the beginnings of a new life.
Whatever the case, I think I might be ready to take the leap. The big one.
Eli’s forehead scrunches when he takes in what I can only guess is the shell-shocked expression I must be wearing.
“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” he says quickly, resting his wrist on the top of the steering wheel. “But I thought you and I could get up early tomorrow. Maybe grab some coffee and take a yoga class. I’m gonna need to sweat it out before I go into work and deal with the shitstorm that’s waitin’ for me.”
I blink.
Right. He was talking about staying the night. At his place.
I manage a smile. “I’d love that.”
Billy’s tail thumps happily against the back of my seat.