Elijah: I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you delete the photo if you come over here and let me see you in person.
I knew exactly how that would end—with me in bed with him. Not a good plan considering it hadn’t even been a full twelve hours since our lunch and his request for another chance.
Grier: I guess you get to keep the pic then.
Elijah:
I was tempted to keep staring at the last thirst trap, I mean selfie, he’d sent me, but I knew it was a bad idea.
Elijah: Sweet dreams, baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Grier: Sweet dreams, Eli.
I forced myself to set the phone aside and turn out the light. I curled up beneath the covers, fully expecting to spend most of the night tossing and turning. Instead, I slept better than I had in weeks.
The rest of the weekend went much the same. Elijah would send me messages throughout the day, similar to the ones he would send before. But he also talked about missing me and wishing we were spending time together. Something he hadn’t done previously.
My poor, sad heart ate it up. There was no resisting him. Not when he seemed to know exactly what to say and do to get under my skin.
Sunday evening I’d just finished eating dinner and cleaning up when my phone chimed. I knew without looking that it was Elijah. He’d been texting me every night around this time. I picked up my phone and smirked when I saw I was right.
Elijah: Can we do a video call?
I knew this was coming, too. He’d given me the weekend to think. I was almost certain he wanted my answer to his request for another shot. I wasn’t wearing any make-up, and my hair was in a loose bun on top of my head. I didn’t exactly look my best, but I figured he needed to get used to it if he wanted to date me. I was never going to be the woman who was always put together and pretty.
Grier: Okay.
My phone started ringing immediately after I sent my reply. Despite my nerves, I was smiling when I answered the video call. He seemed eager to talk to me.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted me as soon as the call connected.
Like me, he was on his couch only he was shirtless instead of dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants like me. His hair was messy, and his eyes were a little sleepy, as though he’d just woken up from a nap.
“Hey. You look relaxed.”
He grinned at me. “I am. I passed out on the couch for an hour and just woke up a little while ago. What have you been up to today?”
“Laundry and rotting on the couch. I had girl dinner a little bit ago.”
He cocked his head to one side, a small smile on his face. “What on Earth is girl dinner?”
“Well, it’s different for everyone, but, for me, it’s a bunch of little snacky foods like cheese, crackers, lunch meat, fruit, and pickles or olives. Sometimes I’ll do little pinwheels, too.”
“Pinwheels?”
“Tortillas spread with cream cheese or something else and topped with whatever sounds good. I did diced ham and green onions today.”
“That does sound really good,” he said.
“It was.”
“Think I could come over for girl dinner sometime?” he asked.
I knew he really wanted to ask me if I’d reached a decision but didn’t want to jump right in and ask. Still, I answered him anyway.
“I think that would be nice.”
The little smile on his face morphed into a huge, boyish grin. “Really?”
