“Not stupid. At all.”
“He’s kind of why I left Chicago,” Eleanor says. “We were living together.”
“No, Eleanor.” As if it could get worse.
She laughs, no doubt to stave off the pain she’s had to unwind from. “Yeah, I went home from work with a migraine and walked in on them.”
Apparently, it could get much worse. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Eleanor stares into the fire, warmth dancing across her face. She hasn’t taken off the hat which I take as a good sign it’s growing on her. It’s an appendage, a new vestigial organ. Her profile is elegant. Like a marble statue in a museum. Long luscious lashes. Full lips. Pretty nose. You know you’re down bad for someone when you’re admiring their nose.
“I think it’s going to be okay,” she says. “I think I’m going to be . . .” Eleanor returns her gaze to mine. “I think I’m okay.”
I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but it doesn’t compare to infidelity, right? It was a lie to bring us closer, not push us farther apart. In a few years, I can tell her, and we’ll laugh about it. Assuming we have a few years together. Is it crazy that I hope we do?
“I’d never do that to you,” I say. “I’d never betray you like that.” That is the truth. A solid fact.
Eleanor’s lips perk up at the corners.
“You’ve . . . since the moment I saw you, you’ve had every bit of my attention.” Also the truth. I have more truths than lies. They should weigh more at the end of the day. I’ll choose to believe that or else I’m not going to make it through this next moment. “Your ex is a total dumbass.”
She laughs. My laugh is trapped in my chest. My rib cage is squeezing around my heart. I’m aching.
If she turns away from me now, I think I’ll absolutely die.
19
ELEANOR
For once, Luke does not know the next right thing to do. At least he’s not pretending he knows. He’s staring at me, waiting for me, beholden to me.
An idiotic gentleman.
Fuck it. Fuck my ex and fuck Chicago and fuck the past.
Now, it’s Luke. And it’s Austin. And it’s now.
“You should probably thank him,” I say softly.
Luke’s eyebrows lift.
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”
Luke lifts his chin and smiles. “You know what? You’re right. I owe him.”
I grab the edge of the bench behind us, a subtle movement to get closer to Luke. I let my eyes fall to his mouth, and then lift back to his dreamy blue eyes. He’s like a fucking Ken doll. A hotter, cowboy version of Ken.
“Eleanor?”
“Yes, Luke.” I say it like an answer to the unasked question. I feel it, the connective energy between us, urging us closer together. I’m not saying no anymore. Not when I’ve captivated his attention from the moment he saw me.
In an instant, every self-conscious thought I’ve had about our differences washes away. So what if he’s the pretty boy and I’m the bookish girl? This isn’t high school. It’s real life. And in real life, we feel without reason. Without plan.
God, do I feel for him.
As Luke takes my hand and flattens it against his chest, I can feel his heart pounding against my palm. Mine beats at the same pace if not faster. Both our hearts hot and furious with us. Get on with it, they say.
With both his hands free, he cups my cheeks in his hands. His thumb coasts along my cheekbone tenderly.