A note. The sorry shit had not only left me, but he’d done it with a handwritten note. Poor handwriting, at that.
For years, I’d blamed Eli solely for all the pain and suffering I’d endured due to the aftermath of my lie. Eli…not me. Never me.
So, when I’d cried myself to sleep, I’d blamed Eli. When I’d once again been faced with the harsh reality of not fitting in due to my age and inexperience, I’d blamed Eli. When I couldn’t seem to find the desire to have sex with another male or female, I’d blamed Eli.
Eli. Eli. Eli.
When he’d returned, acting like he gave two fucks, I’d found a way to twist and turn his words into something threatening. When he’d saved my life and then gently cared for me in the filthy alleyway, I’d managed to convince myself it was nothing more than Eli doing his job—he would have done the same for anyone. When Baker called me to say that it had been Eli who’d pulled strings with his sister to get my babysitting job on the cruise, I’d told my friend that he was only doing it as a way to hurt me. I’d gone so far as to beg Baker to try and intervene with Samantha on my behalf. He’d refused, reminding me of how I’d laughed at his struggles with Seth.
When Eli had taken care of me yesterday during my Pukeahontus performance on deck and then continued caring for me throughout the entire night, I’d returned his sweet gesture with one childish tantrum after another.
But when we’d sat with one another in the dining room that morning, Eli being more attentive to my oddities than my own father or best friends, the coldness inside of me had started to thaw. It wasn’t like I was the Grinch with his expanding heart or anything like that, but I might finally be in a position to admit that I had done my fair share to ruin the relationship between me and Eli years ago.
I’d lied. I’d told a really bad lie. Really terrible things could have happened to Eli if he’d taken me to his bed…like I’d begged him to on each and every occasion we were together. Yeah, I’d been a horny bastard back in the days of Eli. When things had ended between us, I’d tried to remain that same horny bastard, but nobody stood a chance after Eli—not one fucking person.
As soon as he waltzed back into my life, Mr. Horny Bastard returned with a vengeance. I’d done nothing but fantasize about Eli taking me to bed…even if I had put forth a valiant effort of pretending it was somebody other than Eli. All my jerking off sessions had started with me and some gorgeous movie star or deliciously decadent male model, but they’d all ended with it being me and Eli.
Nobody but Eli. It was always Eli.
So, when breakfast had ended, the words had tumbled straight out of my mouth. I’d just pointblank asked him what his intentions were. Things could have ended badly for me. He could have laughed in my face. Even worse, he could have lied. The words would have been the same, exactly what I wanted to hear, but they could have been a lie…but they weren’t.
I might not know how to act properly in a crowd, make a grown man moan in the bedroom, or stop washing my hands twenty times a day, but I knew when Eli was telling the truth. A warmth settled in my stomach and started slowly but surely making its way to my heart. What if there was still a chance for us?
“I’m sorry I lied,” I whispered, finally meaning it for the first time. “I never meant to hurt you, Eli. I was only afraid of losing you.”
He pulled me into a hug and whispered, “Sorry, angel. It’s going to be a lot harder to lose me than you think. I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted my head to where I looked up at him, straight into his beautiful gray eyes. “You can lie about your age, change cruise lines and the date of your departure, or dye that beautiful blond hair…but you’ll never lose me. I’ll be with you until you demand that I leave.”
There was no way in the world the super-tight speedos or booty shorts were going to hide what his words were doing to my body. I should probably be humiliated. I wasn’t, though. When I was with Eli, I felt invincible.
I felt like I belonged.
“I already demanded that you leave me alone,” I argued weakly…but kept my arms locked around his waist just in case he tried to make a run for it.
Grinning, he answered, “But you never meant it. The eyes don’t lie, angel—only those beautiful lips of yours.”