His stiff but warm embrace.
After a few more seconds, he finally pulls me in tighter. I relish in the feel of him holding me tightly. I haven’t really given it a lot of thought before this moment, but being held by Eli reminds me that I haven’t had much human touch through the whole thing. As much as I love living on my own, I often miss human contact.
This, right here—hugging him—it feels right.
It feels comforting.
Needed.
He rubs my back and quietly says, “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Just needed a hug.”
That causes him to pull away just slightly so he can look me in the eyes. “If you needed a hug, you should have asked.”
“I’m going to awkwardly take it instead.”
“That works too.” He squeezes me close to him again. “We’re both going through something incredibly different. If that means you need a hug, then don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He continues to rub my back until I realize I’m going to make him late, so I let go of him and take a step back.
“You good?” he asks me.
“Yes, I’m good. Thank you.”
He nods. “Okay, I’ll call you when I get to my hotel room.” He reaches out and tilts my chin up. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Why do I feel so needy right now? I don’t want him to leave. I want him to sit on the couch with me again, my legs draped over him, just talking about everything and nothing. I want to listen to his deep voice as he tells me about his upcoming hockey game, and I want to watch the way he tugs on his hair when I compliment his skills. I want him to stay here, with me, close to me . . .
Tears well in my eyes, and I curse my godforsaken hormones for not being able to keep it together.
“What’s wrong?” he says, immediately picking up on the walking disaster in front of him.
I swipe at my eyes. “Ugh, hormones. I’m fine.”
He makes a strangled noise in his throat and then pulls me back into a hug. “Please don’t cry. I already feel guilty leaving you. You crying is just going to make it worse.”
“It’s not me crying. It’s the baby unfairly controlling how I feel. You put the baby in there. Blame yourself.”
He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll fully take the blame for this.” He lifts my chin when he pulls away, and our eyes connect.
Mine watery.
His full of concern.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.”
“Make sure you answer.”
“I will.”
“Okay.” He heaves a sigh and then picks up his bag. “Let me know if you need anything.” He offers me a wave, which I return.
“Kick some ass, Hornsby.” When he pins me with a glare, I chuckle and say, “Kick some ass, Eli.”
