Ialmostsmile at that but shake my head. I lower my lips to the shell of her ear, revelling in the shiver that races through her at my nearness. “Here? Are you sure?”
She nods once, but it’s rigid. She definitely isnotsure, but she’s going through with it anyway.
I allow my knuckles to skate along her hip, grounding myself for what’s ahead and reminding myself that she’s still here. “Then I’ll be here every step of the way.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Elijah slides onto the bench,and I don’t miss the lack of seating available forme.
“Sorry, all out of room. Looks like you’ll have to sit on Elijah’s lap,” Chelsea says with a snicker, taking a massive bite of her taco.
I roll my eyes, refusing to get worked up about this too. I’m about to let down all my walls in the middle of a rainy food-truck stall at a blasted arts festival. Sitting on Elijah’s lap is the least of my concerns.
“You can’t sit on a wet seat, Adhira. Just—justuse me.” His green eyes are wide when they meet mine, cheeks flaming.
Someone coughs. I suck in a settling breath and hunker down on one of his thighs, the muscles coiling beneath me as I lower my weight onto him.
I peer over my shoulder at him. “This okay?”
He feels so solid beneath me, and it’s such a contradiction to the warring emotions in my chest and the softness of his gaze.
He’s not breathing, and my fingers twitch to rest on his cheek so I can beg him to take a deep breath for me. Before I do something out of character, his shoulders relax, and he blows out a breath between pursed lips. “Yep. Never better.”
My cheeks pinch with a repressed smile, but I work hard to relax my face before turning back to face my friends, who are all wearing amused expressions of their own.
“So, what’s the big news?” Nakoa asks, and Chelsea elbows him in the ribs. He grunts and mimes sealing his lips shut.
I lower my gaze to the white-and-red paper plates filled with food gone cold. “Let’s just eat, and then I’ll tell you everything.”Not a chance in hell am I having this conversation on an empty stomach.
I knew the day would come when I’d have to atone for my sins. I just hadn’t thought it would be on a Friday evening after stuffing my face with samosas and tacos while sitting in Elijah’s lap.
Regrettably, I find his proximity reassuring. But despite letting myself shut down a bit, numbing myself to the pain I’m about to inflict on everyone here, I can still feel the heavinesssurrounding me, pressing on my shoulders.It’s time.Time I clear the air and quit forcing Elijah into shitty situations.
My three favourite menaces to society are seated across from me, pressed together, Rafael’s bulk taking up half their side of the bench. Each of them glares between me and Elijah, the quick squeeze of his fingers digging into my hip acting as my anchor.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you say whatever it is? Because I’m tired of waiting and?—”
Elise gets cut off by Chelsea, “Oh my god! Are you two pregnant?” Her huge brown eyes have doubled in size, and my face contorts with the idea of a growing foetus in my womb. “If you are, just tell us how you’d like to go about it. I’ve decided I’d keep the baby if I got pregnant, I mean, most likely anyway. But you totally don’t have to, and I’ll support you however you’d like.”
Nakoa chokes beside her, grumbling something under his breath. If he’s going to choose the most inopportune time to require the Heimlich manoeuvre, he’ll have to find someone else to do it.
My heart is fucking racing.If I get up now, I’ll never tell them.
With every high-pitched word Chelsea speaks, I grow more exhausted. “I’m not pregnant, and Elijah and I haven’treallybeen sleeping together,” I deadpan, going for the rip-the-plaster-off approach.
I swear, the three of them roll their eyes in unison. More choking from Nakoa.
“No shit,” Chelsea says. “I was joking so we could get this over with. You really think I’m that ditzy, don’t you?” I feel a flicker of guilt, but not much else penetrates the concrete slab I’ve formed around myself in preparation for this conversation.
“I fucked up.” They blink back at me. “I should have told you all sooner, but I didn’t want to burden you with my problems,and I’m”—I blink, batting away the tears I refuse to let fall—“sorry.”
Elijah gathers my hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to press his warm lips to my knuckles. A shiver wracks my body, my lips cold, the wet air surrounding us only making it worse. I allow the physical contact ground me once more.
“I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma just before graduation.”
This is only the third time I’ve spoken those words, and they gut me all the same.
