“With oat milk.”
She took it and got in the car without another word. He drove her to The Enclave and didn’t try to come inside. He didn’t ask about the appointment or attempt conversation. He parked, told her he’d be here when she was done, and stayed in the car. Two hours later, when she came back out, he had a bag of pastries from the French bakery on Columbus Avenue sitting on the passenger seat. She took the pastries and ate two before they reached the bridge. She did not thank him.
Over the next few days, he kept showing up. He left groceries with the doorman, plus bags of the jalapeño chips she’d been craving since Kentucky. The next day he placed an order with the burger place down the block for a dozen bacon cheeseburger and enough fries to feed a pack of wolves. He drove her to a lunch with Sloane and waited in the car. He walked beside her at the farmer’s market in Jackson Heights because she’d mentioned wanting fresh peaches, and he carried the bags without being asked.
Eli didn’t push. He didn’t try to have conversations she wasn’t ready for or get too close. He was just there, consistent and steady.
One evening, about five days in, she let him sit on the couch while she ate dinner. They watched a cooking competition on TV for two hours without speaking. Afterwards, he was loading up the dishwasher when she reached for a jar on the top shelf of her kitchen cabinet. Even at her height, this particular shelf was a stretch so she was on her tiptoes.
“Here,” he said. “Let me.” Before she could protest, he reached up over her and grabbed the jar. As he brought it down, his forearm brushed against her belly.
The baby kicked.
They both froze. His hand hovered an inch from her stomach, not touching, but not pulling away either.
“You can,” she said quietly. “If you want.”
He placed his hand flat against the curve. The kick came again once more. His breath caught in his throat, an unnamed emotion keeping it stuck there. His inner wolf went completely still, focused entirely on the sensation under his palm. They stood there for a long time, unmoving, until Olivia cleared her throat and took a step back. She turned around and walked into her bedroom, the door closing shut.
Two days later, he asked her to dinner.
“I’m not ready for a date, Eli.”
“It’s not a date. It’s food. You’re hungry.”
“I’m always hungry. That’s not a reason.”
“It’s a good enough reason. There’s a place I want to take you. One hour. If you hate it, I’ll bring you straight home.”
Her lips pressed into a tight line. “One hour.”
He drove them into Manhattan. She didn’t ask where they were going, and he didn’t volunteer it. When he pulled up to the familiar block and she saw the sign above the sleek black door, her head snapped toward him.
“Blood Moon?”
“Yeah.”
“Why here?”
He cut the engine. “I want to show you something.”
She didn’t say yes, but she got out of the car anyway and followed him in. The place was busy, but not packed, and he led them toward the rear.
“Where are we—” She stopped when they reached the narrow hallway in the off-limits section. “Are we headed to the rooftop?”
“Uh-huh,” he said as he pressed the elevator call button. He had called ahead to Marco, a bartender who owed him a favor. Marco had made sure the rooftop would be empty the entire night. He gestured for her to go in when the doors opened.
The rooftop was bare except for a few planters on the same ledge with the metal railing Olivia had leaned over the night they met. The sprawl of Times Square glittered below, the cacophony of car horns and wailing sirens serenading them.
“Okay,” Olivia said, crossing her arms. “I’m here. What did you want to show me?”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a handful of small glass vials, each filled with plain water. He set them on the ledge of the nearest planter as Olivia watched, her brow furrowing.
“Water?” she said.
“For now.” He picked up the first vial and closed his fingers around it. He shut his eyes, and the warmth spread from his chest, down his arms, and into his hands. The yellow glow seeped between his fingers, surrounding the glass.
Olivia blinked. “That’s what you did at the diner. When you saved me.”
