Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my keys and left. That remark didn’t deserve a response. One time I’d told her how hard it could be to shave balls. One time.
I droveto the street address Eli had given me and parked in front of their home, a white-painted brick bungalow with a large tree centering the front yard. As I left my car, my pulse jolted. I had to keep myself in check. It would be too easy to rush into the bedroom tonight. I swiped my sweaty palms on my t-shirt and knocked.
The door swung open, and Eli stood in a red apron, a silly smile on his face. “Wren, it’s good to see you. You look amazing as always.” He wrapped me in one of his bear hugs and lifted me off my feet for a moment.
Warmth filtered through my chest. He’d always been like this, a big teddy bear unless he was on the field. “You look great too.” Though I’d barely looked at him.
After snatching my hand, he pulled me inside and shut the door. “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.” He hauled me toward the kitchen. “Do you want a beer, or I bought a bottle of white wine to share?”
I stood by their kitchen island, perusing the white cabinetsand black appliances. The place was nice for a student rental, but not extravagant. “Wine sounds nice.” Rubbing my hands together, I scanned the main room, the blue sectional with hollows in the cushions and a matching reclining chair at the end. I wagered the boys spent considerable hours viewing football games and footage here. The dining table was set with plates, silverware and…damn, he’d put a vase of pink roses in the center. I liked this new romantic side of him.
Eli strode around the kitchen, pouring a glass of wine and opening the lid of a pot on the stove. “Here you go.” He slid the wine toward me. “I’m already having one myself.” With a broad grin, he held up a glass.
Tapping my glass on his, I sniffed the air, the aroma of garlic tinging it. “Smells good, Eli.” I took a sip of wine, the oak flavor mixing with butter on my tongue. “Excellent wine. What is it?”
“It’s a chardonnay. My buddy, who just signed with the Cardinals this year, always drank it.” He stirred the contents of the pot on the stove. “His name is JJ Matthews. Have you ever heard of him?”
Scratching my forehead, I said, “I can’t say I have. I’ve watched little football except in high school and this year.” Eli had been my reason for watching.
“Let’s sit down for a bit.” He pulled the apron over his head, revealing a tight team shirt and athletic shorts. “The rice is done, but the chicken needs a few more minutes.”
With a slow smirk, I followed him to the couch. I’d been spot on regarding his choice of clothing tonight. I fell in beside him. What should we talk about? “How was your week?”Boring…and we’d texted about it every day.
“Uh, good. You?” He drank some wine and crept his arm around my shoulders. “It’s nice having you here. I wasn’t sure what to expect.” A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Do you have any idea how many times I changed?”
“You did?” I stared at him. He’d had the same dilemma I’d had.
“Yeah, Malik threw this at me and told me to chill.” He pulled his shirt over his chest.
“Grace did the same thing to me.” As a smile tugged at my lips, I hung my head. It was so odd—we’d been lovers in high school, and now it still felt like these were first dates.
“Wren, I don’t want to ruin anything this time.” He creased his brows. “I’ve thought about you all these years, way more than you know.”
“You have?” My gaze swept to his. I’d thought about him too, but mostly in anger. It was all I had to stop the hurt. But could anger actually heal hurt? Probably not.
“Yeah, I, uh…” He sank his teeth into his lower lip. “Shit, I should check the chicken. It should be done now.” He hopped up and strode into the kitchen.
My gaze chased him. What the hell had he been about to say? Maybe I’d ask him later. I took my wine to the table and peered at each setting. “Where do you want me to sit?”
“Either place. I don’t care.” He scooped food into two bowls and brought them to the table.
“I like the flowers, Eli. It’s a pleasant touch.” I sank into the chair on the side. I’d let him sit at the head. It was his house after all.
“Thank you.” He sat in his chair and scooped rice onto our plates, then added the chicken, a mixture with chunks of sun-dried tomatoes and artichokes in a thick broth. With a wide grin, he said, “Let me know what you think.”
“Of course.” I picked up my fork and dug in, slipping the food into my mouth. Garlic and white wine sauce blended with the flavors. “Damn, this is great and goes perfectly with this wine.” He knew his shit with cooking.
“Yeah, I used it in the chicken.” He ate some food. “I’m glad you like it.”
I ate another bite. Should I ask now? “Eli, what did you intend to say on the couch?” I set my fork on my plate and wiped my mouth with a paper napkin.
His cheeks pinked all the way to his ears. “Nothing. It’s just that one reason I volunteer at the helpline is…well, I think it’s been my way of redeeming myself for what I did to you in high school. It’s helped me forgive myself for, well, a lot of things.”
My eyes widened. I’d been so hurt, I never considered what it had done to him. “Did you have to forgive yourself for hiding your sexuality?” It was something queer people experienced, right? Maybe I hadn’t put it into the correct terms, but?—
“I was ashamed of being gay for so long, and I wasn’t sure how our relationship connected with it. If I were ashamed of who I was, then was I also ashamed of you? Of what we had?” His eyes grew glassy. “I wonder now if that’s why I didn’t speak up. It’s terrible to think my shame extended to you. What we had was beautiful.” He grasped my hand and held it on the table. “What we have. Now. Is beautiful.” His gaze softened, and his lips parted. “My feelings for you never stopped.”
In almost a whisper, I said, “Eli.” My heart swelled with emotion, and I swallowed a lump in my throat. This was it. I was falling, no, plummeting, for him all over again. “Thank you for admitting that. It means a lot.”
