Chapter Thirty-One
JULES
Golden sunbeams pouredthrough my kitchen window, brightening the space and illuminating the specks of dust dancing in the air. I sat at my dining table, a warm cup of coffee cradled in my hands. It was creeping close to noon, but Sunday mornings were made for extra coffee and good books. I picked up my well-loved copy ofAround the World in Eighty Days, willing myself to get lost in Phileas Fogg’s grand adventure.
I’d had breakfast yesterday with Lacey at Sweet Dreams. The memory of her excited chatter about newly wedded happiness collided with my own hesitant confessions.
“So you and Eli are…?” Lacey had prompted, stirring her latte.
I’d shrugged, trying to keep my voice casual. “In limbo now, I guess. Sort of together but not. We’ve texted but haven’t really seen each other since he came over. He promised to talk to Helen, but…”
“But you’re not sure he will?” Lacey’s brow creased in concern.
“No, it’s not that.” I paused, searching for the right words. “I trust him, Lace. It’s just… I don’t see how this is going to work out. Helen has made her feelings crystal clear.”
Lacey gave me a sympathetic half smile. “Hey, if anyone can charm his way out of this mess, it’s Eli. That man could sweet-talk a shark out of its teeth.”
I laughed despite myself. “True. But this isn’t just some random obstacle. It’s his mother.”
“All the more reason for him to fight,” Lacey insisted.
Now, sitting alone at my dining table, I clung to that memory of hope. Eli had worked all day yesterday, then sent me an apologetic text saying he was beat and headed straight to sleep. Had he even had a chance to talk to Helen? Was he having second thoughts?
I set my mug down with a little too much force, sloshing coffee onto the pristine white tablecloth. Great. Another mess to clean up. With a deep breath, I picked upAround the World in Eighty Daysonce more. I’d lose myself in Fogg’s journey, I decided. Let the familiar prose wash away my worries, if only for a little while.
When I lifted my coffee cup to my lips, I discovered it was cold, and I’d been reading the same page for five minutes. I set the book down with a sigh. Who was I kidding? My gaze drifted to my phone, silent and unhelpful. I could text him, couldn’t I? Just a quick check-in. Nothing desperate or needy.
Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed my phone and fired off a text to Eli.
Jules: Morning, Coleridge. You alive? The sea monsters haven’t dragged you down to their lair, have they?
I chewed my lip, waiting. The typing bubble appeared almost instantly, which made me smile.
Eli: Barely. Slaving away over dive class plans. Turns out teaching newbies how not to drown is more exhausting than it looks. Send coffee. And a massage. Maybe a naked massage?
Jules: You and your gutter mind. Don’t we have other pressing issues? Such as a certain discussion with your mom?
My heart skipped. I took a steadying breath, fingers hovering over the keys as I waited.
Eli: Patience, my dear Verne. Good things come to those who wait. And those who wear little red bikinis you might be hiding from me.
That made me laugh out loud.
Jules: You’ll have to earn a glimpse of that. Though after spending weeks pretending we hardly know each other, I might just rip your clothes off the next time I see you.
Eli: Challenge accepted.
“I don’t want to get too off track here. Focus.” Frowning, my thumbs flew over the screen.
Jules: Only if this on-again, off-again thing is settled.
Eli: I think you underestimate my powers of persuasion. And my appreciation for red bikinis.So… are we a couple again or what? It’s kind of important for future planning purposes. And bikini-related activities.
Jules: That depends entirely on your conversation with your mother.
Eli: Let’s just say you might have an answer to that sooner than you think.Some treasures are worth waiting for.
I huffed, frown deepening. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
