“Deal,” I said, ending the call feeling more gleeful than I should have felt. Truthfully…a small, rather conniving part of me had hoped to lure Elle into helping me, so that I could spend a little time with her, or in the very least hear her voice again while she gave me instructions. I was desperate for her attention.
Forty-five minutes later, I was pulling up the driveway to her house. She was waiting for me, sitting on the front porch steps. She stood up when I came to a stop and walked over, her hips swaying with each attitude-fueled step she took. Elle was dressed casually in shorts and a white t-shirt with a deer graphic on it that stretched across her breasts, and her hair wild and free, spilling over her shoulders and down her back like a dark mane. She wasn’t trying to drive me wild with want, but she succeeded. My blood pumped south the moment she climbed into the cab, her scent enveloping me.
“Thanks for helping me today, Elle,” I told her, my words sincere, as she pulled the seatbelt across her body.
“Don’t mention it. I’m doing this for Brock and Tessa, anyway. I can’t believe you left everything until the last minute,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. Elle was never really a morning person, and I knew she was pissed that I’d dragged her out of bed before noon.
“I didn’t leaveeverythinguntil the last minute,” I pointed out, pulling away from her house. “I invited the guests. That’s the most important part.”
“Yeah, until the guests arrive and there’s no plan and no food.” Elle huffed at me, pushing her hair out of her face.
“I guess I’ve just been overthinking everything,” I sighed. Honesty was my best policy with Elle. “I’m kind of pissed that Brock didn’t want to do the whole strip club thing.”
“Why?”
“Because, it would have been easier for me. This was our scene in high school. Bush parties, camp outs, bonfires and booze. I haven’t done that shit since…well. Us. And I’m not counting that weekend we went mudding, there was barely any drinking and you were there.”
I could feel her eyes on me, and I was afraid that I’d said too much too soon. The silence between us was thick and heavy. “I’m sorry, Braden,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She swallowed hard, drawing her eyes away from me and out the window.
“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” I told her, my eyes darting across the cab to look at her. “I was the one who turned to booze instead of dealing with my grief. I should have listened to you that day…” I added. The words were difficult to get out past the lump of pride and regret in my throat. I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering how Elle had cautioned me about drinking so much.
Even at the time, I’d known she was right. I just hadn’t known how to stop. I was on a rampage, locked in battle with myself. I didn’t think I deserved good things, and Elle was a good thing—a great thing. The best thing to have ever happened to me.
She was reflective, likely recalling the same day my thoughts were focused on. “Iamsorry though. I’m sorry I blamed you when I should have fought harder to stay by your side. I knew how much you were hurting, and I let you push me away.”
I tromped on the breaks and pulled over to the shoulder of the road, turning to face her. “Elle, I’m telling you right now—what happened between us was my fault and mine alone. You were perfect—youareperfect. You always had my back, you always believed in me. I was the one that broke your trust. I was the one that fucked it up and believe me when I tell you—I would doanythingto go back in time and not screw it up for us.”
Electricity zapped and sizzled, and the sexual tension between us could be cut with a knife, it was so abundant. Weeks of keeping our distance, weeks of circling around each other. Both of our eyes saying more than our mouths ever could.
I swallowed, my eyes drinking her in. It took all my restraint to stay on my side of the cab, to not reach out and let myself touch her in all the ways I wanted to.
She inhaled deeply, rolling her shoulders back. “Alright, well.” She said, her voice shaky and her eyes wide and uncertain. “First stop is good old Walmart. I’ve been on Pinterest looking for inspiration and there’s a couple of ideas I think you might like. We need to get cups and plates and all that stuff too.”
I smiled sadly and nodded, going along with her topic change. She didn’t know how to respond to what I’d said, and I didn’t know if I wanted her too.
* * *
Elle dumped the last remaining bag of ice into the old wheel barrow and tied the sign she’d made from an old piece of wood—the words “Beer Barrow” painted on it in white paint—to the wooden handles. I looked around the grassy waterfront, bewildered by Elle’s ability to plan and execute a party.
We had picked up enough string lights from the party rental place to light the whole waterfront area up. Several chairs were arranged around the fire pit, the wood was already prepped and ready for a match to drop. The food was arranged on the picnic tables, lids all on to keep bugs and ants out until everyone arrived. A portable speaker system was set up, and all I had to do was plug my phone in and bring up my playlists.
Everything looked perfect, and as an added bonus…I’d gotten to spend the day with her. At first, she’d been tense and unmoving. But party planning put Elle in a glorious mood, and it wasn’t long at all before she melted into the happy girl I remembered from high school, chatting my ears off about all the different ways we could do things.
And I lapped it all up eagerly. I was so relieved that she could let go of her contempt towards me, so relieved that she seemed to enjoy my company—even if it was for a little while. For the first time in a long while, I truly felt like this wasn’t a lost cause, thatweweren’t a lost cause.
“You should be an event organizer,” I told her while I checked everything out again.
She smiled, delighted at my praise. “Thanks, although we really have Pinterest to thank for all this.” She looked around again, her hand on her hip and a satisfied look on her face. “Everything seems good to go. When are people supposed to arrive?”
“Within the next half hour or so,” I replied as I moved closer to her.
I came to a stop in front of her, fighting the urge to put my hands on her hips and pull her to me and kiss her until we both couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t ready for that, and we’d had an awesome day together. I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.
She exhaled sharply, and I felt the warmth and sweetness of her breath on my chin. Her eyes were fixed on mine, bright and luminous. Time seemed to stand still as I raised my hand, gently cupping the side of her face. I swallowed hard.
“I can’t thank you enough for this…”
“Don’t mention it,” Elle said, pulling her face away from my touch. Her eyes were burning—but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if she was pissed at me for touching her, or longing for something more.
