Still failing to see the problem, I look down at my pajamas again. “No. I’m good. Are you good?”
“Mmhmm. Great. Good. I’m good.”
His face is telling a different story than his words. He does not look like he’s doing great or even good. His eyes are looking everywhere but at me. I move back from the door and gesture with one arm for him to enter. He keeps the coffees below his waist and still doesn’t offer me one.
“One of those for me?” I ask, knowing the answer but not sure how else I’m going to get my hands on that macchiato.
Eli drags in a deep breath and closes his eyes for several seconds. He’s trying to compose himself.
“Is there something wrong with my pajamas?” My tone is irritated because I happen to know that I wear cute pajamas, and these are some of my favorites. It’s a pink satin short set. The top has lace spaghetti straps, and the hems of both the top and the shorts are white lace.
Eli opens his eyes and he’s...annoyed.Finally, he hands me the macchiato. No, ‘hands’ is too soft a word. He shoves the drink into my hand and practically stomps off to the couch to take a seat.
“Did I miss something here? You seemed happy when I opened the door, and now you’re all huffy.”
He glares at me. The ooey gooey cinnamon roll of a human being glares at me like I just kicked a puppy. His puppy, even. “I was fine until you answered the door with sex hair and nothing more than scraps of thin pink shit covering THAT body.” He gestures dramatically to all of me.
My hands instinctively go to my hair. My fingers work to tame the tangled mess, but there’s just too much of it. It’s a lot of hair. It’s long, wavy, and super thick. Fingers aren’t going to cut it, and I don’t even care.He’s riled up. He’s riled up because of ME.It’s about damn time.
I don’t even try to hide my enjoyment, and in turn, he makes no attempt to hide his annoyance.
“Well, it serves you right for interrupting my beauty rest.”
His head is laid back on the couch, and he doesn’t turn it as he moves his eyes to me. “It’s 9:00 a.m., the sun’s been up for hours. I wanna hang out before you go to work.”
He wants to hang out. He brought me coffee, and he wants to hang out, and he definitely had to hide a stiffy.Today is going well. I love today. “How do you know I work today.”
“Proxy Twins”, he replies as he takes a drink of his coffee.
“So, what...you three are friends now?”
He mulls this over before responding. “We’re not, not friends.”
Okay. He’s won over the Tweedle Twins. “So, you just assume I’m free and I want to hang out with you?”
“I brought coffee.”
This is a legitimate response and does, in fact, earn him hang out time. I’m actually about six light years over the moon about him being here, but there’s no reason for him to know that.
“So, are you coming to Cornerstone tonight?”
He’s already looking at me, per usual, but his response is still slow. “Not tonight. It’s not really my scene.”
My eyebrows scrunch together.He was there a couple of nights ago, but it’s not his scene? He wasn’t even meeting anyone. He was alone. Or was he meeting someone, and they just didn’t show up? Does he have a girlfriend? He didn’t even try to kiss me last night. He kissed my forehead, but he might even kiss his sister’s forehead. Does he have a sister? Damn. Is this just a really lonely guy who needs a friend?
“Were you supposed to meet someone there the other night?” I hold my breath and wait for his answer.Please say no.
“The opposite, actually.” He pauses, but I can sense he isn’t done speaking, so I remain silent. “I didn’t want to run into anyone I know. My friends don’t really hang out at Cornerstone.”
“Ah. You were hiding out. You know you could’ve bought a case of Coke and a whole bottle of Jim Beam and just stayed home. It would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper.”
“Not likely. My drinks were free.”
That’s right. Jax returned his card and comped his tab after he Jet Li’d Chase.There is so much to this man. He’s some sort of badass, but he doesn’t advertise it.That probably means that he is a badass to the extreme, so he doesn’t need to flaunt it.He’s also the absolute sweetest thing under the sun.His smile is a near permanent fixture on his face. He got his little feelings hurt about not knowing my real name, but then, he got down on his knees to plead for forgiveness.
“You’re difficult to figure out.” I find that it’s best to just say what I think for the most part. I don’t like to play guessing games, and I don’t like to be deceived.
He finds my statement amusing in some way because he’s stifling a laugh. “Something funny?”
