“Come here.” She sets a plate on the desk in front of me. A stack of American style pancakes, with blueberries and syrup. The smell is insane, it’s filled the house with a homely weekend vibe.
I pull her in front of me and lift her so she’s sitting on the edge of my desk. Her feet come either side of me on the chair and she rolls me closer.
She runs her hands through my hair, tingles run through me as her fingers caress my scalp. She rubs my temples.
“Are you okay?” she asks me, soft and calming. I nod. “Don’t hide from me, Elton.” I’m trying not to, but I am at a loss for what to say. How do I even begin to describe what’s going on in my head?
“I don’t know how to help her.” Her being both MJ, and Neive. And maybe me a little bit.
“You are helping her,” she reassures me, but I don’t believe it.
“It doesn’t feel like it.” I rest my head on her chest, breathing in the scent. Grounding myself into her.
“You put so much responsibility on your shoulders.”
“She is my responsibility,” I say a little harder than I possibly should have. Reilly purses her lips but doesn’t say anything.
She doesn’t understand. MJ is my responsibility. She always has been and always will be. Who else is going to look after her?
While I was off living the good life under the patronage of Charles’s father, MJ was suffering. I allowed her to suffer. No more.
Reilly
The tension radiates from him. I want to do nothing more than make it all go away. I know better than that though. These are his demons. He’s the only one who can help himself. I’ll be waiting here on the side lines for when he needs me.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my shorts. Elton leans back in the chair, mindlessly stroking his hand along my calves.
When I see who’s calling me I immediately flip it face down on the desk. I can’t bear that he could ruin this moment.
“Whose that?”
“Ugh, no one. An irritation.” I use my feet to roll him back towards me so he’s nestled in between my thighs again. I pull him by his neck into a kiss, trying to distract him, I don’t want to have this conversation. Tim’s constant presence doesn’t need to be made into a thing.
“Should I be worried?” His frown lines deepen, but he continues to gently stroke circles on my thighs, as he kisses along my jawline. I melt into his touch.
“Not at all. It’s my ex. Still calls me sometimes. I don’t answer and I ignore his texts. Promise.” I go to unbutton his shirt but his hands have stopped their slow exploration of me, and he has a noticeable hold on either side of my body.
“How often?” His jaw is tight and the question comes out firmly.
“Is that a twinge of jealousy I hear in your voice, Elton?” I tease him. He’s not the jealous type, but I guess we all hold a touch of the green-eyed monster.
“It’s not jealousy, Reilly. It’s concern. How often does he try to contact you?”
“Elton. No need for concern. He’s harmless.”
“I’ve heard that before.” He mutters under his breath as he pushes away from me and stands from his desk. He takes his phone out and shoots off a message, then pockets it before sighing and looking at me.
He steps forward and takes my face in his hands, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Tell me when he tries to contact you. I need to keep an eye on this.”
“On this or on me?”
“This isn’t a question of trust, Reilly. This is me wanting to look out for you. I take care of what’s mine.” His grip on my thigh is possessive.
“Yours?”
“It’s protective, Reilly, not possessive.” He may believe that, but it’s a fine line not many can tread easily. Maybe Elton can though.
I choose to believe him. He’s a good man. Our actions aren’t always perfect, but they should come from a good place. It’s the intention that matters.
