Hon, I told you...I’m not even there. You know I wouldn’t do that. I’ll make some calls when I get back and see what I can do.
As if he’d have to be there. As if it wouldn’t just take one phone call, one email, one text, one DM.
I sit back and stare at my phone with a tight knot in the center of my stomach. I can’t believe I just accused him of intentionally sabotaging my funding to punish me for being here with Elijah.
It’s crazy, right? This situation is making me crazy.
But I’m only twenty-nine, and my career is being derailed for the second time.
I already have one degree I can’t use because a selfish man put himself first. Is this going to be another one?
When I get downstairs,Elijah’s just walking in—shirtless, a rivulet of sweat dripping down his chest. Sweat normally grosses me out, but I want to lick him clean. When my gaze meets his, last night rests between us for one very long moment.
I’m going to come so hard, straight down your throat.
God, I still can’t believe that happened.
It’s for the best that we’ll be separated tonight—family members are staying in the Boudreaux mansion, while extended family and the bridal party will stay in the guest cottages or the mansion across the street. Enforced responsibility. That’s what this situation requires.
I turn toward the coffee maker. “I’m going to go for a quick run, and then I’ll help you pack the car.”
“No need,” he says, slapping something on the counter. “We’re not leaving.”
It’s a note on yellow paper.
Elijah,
Paul is taking us on a road trip. We’ll be back in time to leave Wednesday.
Love,
Grandma
Well, fuck.
This means I now have two full days of skirting around what happened last night—and trying to keep it from happening again.
“I texted her,” he says, scraping his hands through his hair. “She won’t even tell me where they’re going.”
I want to laugh at my own stupidity. Here I was thinking he was just as caught up in remembering last night as I was, and he’s thinking about an eighty-eight-year-old instead.
I hit the button on the coffee maker and turn toward him. “Don’t worry about her. She actually seems pretty healthy.”
He shakes his head. “As long as she can manage not to drink a massive can of NitroCaffeine or whatever that shit wasyesterday. There’s nothing I can do about it anyway. Kelsey might get annoyed if her bags are late, but she’ll live.”
There are circles under his eyes, and those hollows beneath his cheekbones are more pronounced than normal. “You look...stressed.”
His gaze meets mine. “I didn’t get much sleep.”
Last night was so good. Would it kill us to repeat itonce?
“Ah,” I say, turning away again.
At least it’s not just me.
But it’s going to be two very long days.
I go for a run,but it’s not enough to drive this anxious tightening from my gut. The thing with Dr. Shearer will sort itself out—I know I’m getting back together with Thomas and my funding will get reinstated, though the spoonful of force here has a very sour taste. And what if Thomas changes his mind about me down the line? Will I find myself exactly where I am now? Thomas has been assuring me for so long that there will be a position at the university available when I’m ready for it. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to worry about where I’ll go next.
