Tears begin to sting behind my eyelids. Not because I can keep the drumstick after all, but because of how clear it is that Elliot knows what it means to me. It would have been so easy for him to take the stick and walk away. But he immediately found a way for me to get what I needed too.
‘So… with that in mind,’ he says, his lips curling into a smile. ‘This belongs to you.’
And without another word, he offers it to me.
I regard it in his hand for a second, absorbing the offer. The original worn out drumstick in all its glory that has become so strangely familiar beckons to me. A breathy laugh falls out of me as I throw my arms around his shoulders. Almost immediately I feel his strong, sure embrace as his arms wrap around my waist.
I let him go to take him in. To memorise exactly how the last light of the day clashes against his misty eyes and how the breeze plays with the locks falling across his forehead. I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it at this point. He is so unbelievably fucking pretty and I have denied myself the pleasure all weekend.
‘So, do you want it or not?’ he asks, wriggling the drumstick between us.
‘Yeah, I want it,’ I reply, snatching it from his grasp with a grin.
‘Thought so.’
‘Thank you,’ I murmur. ‘Really. You didn’t have to do this but you did anyway and now look! We both win!’
‘It’s okay,’ he says, his voice like velvet. ‘I wanted to.’
I struggle to remember why I even asked him to meet me here in the first place as his eyes bore into mine.
Elliot-induced brain fog is not going anywhere, apparently. Oh no. Shall I do a jig?
‘I wanted to ask–’ I start, but our voices clash as he says, ‘I’m sorry about last night.’
I falter.
‘Sorry?’ I stammer, my eyes wide.
‘Last night,’ he continues. ‘At Neptune’s Lounge. I owe you an apology. I just… I wasn’t clear at all.’
‘Why did you kiss me in the first place? If you were going to take it back?’ I ask, hurt creeping into my voice.
He winces and turns his gaze away from me for a moment. ‘That was stupid,’ he mutters.
‘Why did you say it?’
A scalding fire suddenly lights in his eyes. ‘Because I’m the one who bought you consecutive drinks and then shoved us both in a telephone box and then threw myself at you. They’re not exactly events I’d like to be remembered by.’
‘Oh.’ I blink several times. ‘That’swhy you said that? It was a – what? A consent thing?’
‘Well, yeah,’ he says, pushing his hands into his pockets. ‘And you’d just told me you didn’t think I was attractive. Not my finest moment, honestly. Pretty horrendous behaviour.’
‘Oh… that makes sense.’ I soften. ‘Please don’t beat yourself up or anything, that’s not why I was upset.’
He tilts his head curiously. ‘Did you think I just… didn’tmeanto kiss you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply honestly. ‘I assumed that you thought it was a horrible kiss and you immediately regretted it.’
He gives me a look. ‘That wasn’t a horrible kiss. We both know that.’
Goosebumps skitter across my skin at his words.
‘So youdidwant to kiss me,’ I press. I can’t help myself, I just want to hear him say it again.
‘Of course I did,’ he says with a bemused smile.
‘Right.’ I nod, letting the information settle in my brain. ‘Okay.’
