lot. Like he wanted an excuse to touch me. I wanted him to touch me. He didn’t need an excuse.
Flopping somewhat like a fish out of water onto his chest—not my smoothest move—I pressed my lips to a very surprised Elijah. At first he gave in, kissing me back, and it was everything I hoped it would be. But then he stopped. He pushed me away and an overwhelming sense of rejection swamped me.
“Not like this, Ry. Not now. You’re high. I’m high. I do want you, Princess, more than you know, but not like this, okay? We should wait.”
His sweet words eased away some of the sting, but it lingered on my skin and in my veins. “Fine.”
“Don’t be mad. I just want everything to be . . . right between us.” His dimples winked at me and I groaned.
“Nothing is ever going to be fair with those damn dimples in your arsenal.”
“What?” Elijah laughed and it was such a nice sound. Something else that wasn’t fair.
“Nothing. Never mind. Are you gonna feed me, or what?”
He shook his head and crawled over me with a smile on his face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Being high was a little like being drunk—not that I’d been that particular brand of inebriated more than a couple times—only more . . . mellow. I didn’t feel the urge to jump around or go do something wild or crazy. I really, really wanted to sit. And not think. I was always thinking. My whole life all I ever did was think. About the future, about the past, about things I had to do, things I should have done. And worry about what other people thought. People like my parents. It felt nice not to think or worry for a change and to just . . . sit.
So I sat. I sat on Elijah’s bed and didn’t consider all the possible repercussions that could have, especially considering the overnight bag he now knew was waiting in the backseat of my car. I just sat and looked at his walls. They were fascinating.
The first thing I did was seek him out. I scanned face after face in the photos that wallpapered his room, but couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in a single one of them, which led me to the realization that he must have taken them. Which led me to the realization that they were good. Very good, in fact.
I moved closer to the door to study another batch and heard raised voices coming from somewhere else in the house. “Just stay the hell away from her. I mean it, Andy, you touch her, I’ll kill you!”
Chapter Fifteen
I stumbled away from the door just in time to avoid being hit with it as Elijah burst back into the room to catch me eavesdropping.
“Everything okay?” No use denying what I’d heard.
He sighed and handed me a cold carton of Chinese takeout. “Yeah, Andy can just be a dipshit sometimes. Do me a favor? Stay away from him.”
“Sure.” I cracked open the carton to find a crap ton of white rice.
“Sorry, that’s all there was in the fridge.”
“I’m normally not a rice person,” I admitted. “But this actually looks delicious .”
Elijah’s chest bounced with silent laughter. “I bet it does.”
He produced two forks and we sat together on the edge of his bed to dive in. I was right. That rice was just about the best damn thing I’d ever tasted in my life.
“So . . .” I chewed and swallowed my mouthful of rice, trying to maintain some level of decorum. “Are you some kind of photographer or something?”
His eyes scanned the walls, verifying my earlier assumption that he’d taken all of those pictures. “I like to take pictures.”
“They’re really good.”
“Thanks.” He tried to shrug it off like it was nothing, but I couldn’t let it go that easily.
“Seriously. You’re talented. Do you plan to be a photographer someday?”
“I don’t really plan anything.” He took another bite of rice, scraping the bottom of the container. How could it be gone already? “I just take each day as it comes.”
“But how do you know what decisions to make when you don’t
Flopping somewhat like a fish out of water onto his chest—not my smoothest move—I pressed my lips to a very surprised Elijah. At first he gave in, kissing me back, and it was everything I hoped it would be. But then he stopped. He pushed me away and an overwhelming sense of rejection swamped me.
“Not like this, Ry. Not now. You’re high. I’m high. I do want you, Princess, more than you know, but not like this, okay? We should wait.”
His sweet words eased away some of the sting, but it lingered on my skin and in my veins. “Fine.”
“Don’t be mad. I just want everything to be . . . right between us.” His dimples winked at me and I groaned.
“Nothing is ever going to be fair with those damn dimples in your arsenal.”
“What?” Elijah laughed and it was such a nice sound. Something else that wasn’t fair.
“Nothing. Never mind. Are you gonna feed me, or what?”
He shook his head and crawled over me with a smile on his face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Being high was a little like being drunk—not that I’d been that particular brand of inebriated more than a couple times—only more . . . mellow. I didn’t feel the urge to jump around or go do something wild or crazy. I really, really wanted to sit. And not think. I was always thinking. My whole life all I ever did was think. About the future, about the past, about things I had to do, things I should have done. And worry about what other people thought. People like my parents. It felt nice not to think or worry for a change and to just . . . sit.
So I sat. I sat on Elijah’s bed and didn’t consider all the possible repercussions that could have, especially considering the overnight bag he now knew was waiting in the backseat of my car. I just sat and looked at his walls. They were fascinating.
The first thing I did was seek him out. I scanned face after face in the photos that wallpapered his room, but couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in a single one of them, which led me to the realization that he must have taken them. Which led me to the realization that they were good. Very good, in fact.
I moved closer to the door to study another batch and heard raised voices coming from somewhere else in the house. “Just stay the hell away from her. I mean it, Andy, you touch her, I’ll kill you!”
Chapter Fifteen
I stumbled away from the door just in time to avoid being hit with it as Elijah burst back into the room to catch me eavesdropping.
“Everything okay?” No use denying what I’d heard.
He sighed and handed me a cold carton of Chinese takeout. “Yeah, Andy can just be a dipshit sometimes. Do me a favor? Stay away from him.”
“Sure.” I cracked open the carton to find a crap ton of white rice.
“Sorry, that’s all there was in the fridge.”
“I’m normally not a rice person,” I admitted. “But this actually looks delicious .”
Elijah’s chest bounced with silent laughter. “I bet it does.”
He produced two forks and we sat together on the edge of his bed to dive in. I was right. That rice was just about the best damn thing I’d ever tasted in my life.
“So . . .” I chewed and swallowed my mouthful of rice, trying to maintain some level of decorum. “Are you some kind of photographer or something?”
His eyes scanned the walls, verifying my earlier assumption that he’d taken all of those pictures. “I like to take pictures.”
“They’re really good.”
“Thanks.” He tried to shrug it off like it was nothing, but I couldn’t let it go that easily.
“Seriously. You’re talented. Do you plan to be a photographer someday?”
“I don’t really plan anything.” He took another bite of rice, scraping the bottom of the container. How could it be gone already? “I just take each day as it comes.”
“But how do you know what decisions to make when you don’t
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