Page 33 of Elusion

She’s not impressed by my response. Felicia straightens up, smearing tears across her face with the heel of her hand. I grab her a tissue and make sure she calms down. When I glance up, Callie’s disappeared to her room.

“Gibson,” I say, “can we never finish this?”

Tears fall as she nods. Bringing the tissues with, I help the poor girl to her room. The most pathetic attempt at a smile forms as I hand the box to her. I wait for her to shut the door before setting my sights on the other bedroom.

This is it. Time to make it happen.

Callie is sitting on her bed, back against the wall. I knock on my way in, but she doesn’t look up from her phone.

“I sent the mess to bed. She cannot handle the harsh realities of our world.” I lie down on the bed and use her lap for a pillow. “Do you want me to describe the particulars? The images are burned into my mind for eternity.”

She shakes her head, still distracted. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Thank God. Now, calm me down. I’m very upset.”

Without looking, she trails her fingers through my hair. And she needs to never stop. I close my eyes, not sure if I’ve gone too long without this type of physical contact or if it’s her. Every move of her hand relaxes me while simultaneously burning through every nerve ending in my body.

I look for any hint of what she’s thinking, but she’s not there with me anymore. She stares off, eyes vacant. The blank expression on her face further unsettles me.

“You stopped,” I say when her hand stops moving.

She blinks a few times, the light returning to her eyes. She gazes down at me and flashes a grin. “I’m not sitting here all night, stroking your hair.”

“Ah, easily solved.” I roll out of bed to my feet and point to her pillow. “Lie down.”

“What? Jordan, I’m not—”

I grasp her ankles and pull them toward the opposite end of the bed.

“Okay!” She scoots the rest of the way and lies on her side.

I crawl in, facing her, and bump my body into hers as much as possible, settling in. Once comfortable, I return her hand to the back of my head. “Carry on.”

Per my request, her fingers thread through my hair. I slide my hand over her hip, and when my gaze lowers to her mouth, her breathing accelerates, but she shows no signs of stopping me. Eight days, a dozen-plus coffees, who knows how many noes, and we’ve finally arrived. She’s going to let me kiss her.

It all plays out in my mind. I’ll cup her face in my hand, brushing my thumb over her cheek, and bring my lips to hers. My heart will pound while I slip off her shirt and see what I’ve been missing this last week. A smile or a laugh when one of us fumbles while undressing the other. Her perfect, naked body under mine. Those eyes staring up at me as I push inside her. Anticipation, excitement, pleasure, and then I’ll walk out the door, and it’ll be all over. Life will return to normal without the random, beautiful, perplexing girl.

But when I move my hand to her cheek, a lump forms in my throat. I skim my thumb over her soft skin, and my stomach knots. Callie’s gaze is locked on mine as she waits for what we both want.

And I can’t do it.

I can’t fucking do it.

My lips press to her forehead, staying there a few seconds before I pull back and close my eyes.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

A moment of clarity rips me from my sleep, my eyes opening wide.

The light from the parking lot glows through the window and highlights Callie’s face. I leave the weight of my hands on the mattress to keep the bed from moving as I climb out. She stirs but stays asleep. I toss the blanket from the end of her bed over her and make a quiet exit.

It’s almost four in the morning. I speed home through the empty streets, and when I get there, I unlock the garage and shut myself in. My feet walk me in a large square over and over while my mind sorts through my revelation.

“No more Callie,” I repeat the words a dozen times at least and turn imaginary corners.

I can’t even imagine a world without her anymore. Barely over a week has passed since I existed in such a place, but I hate the possibility of ever going back. No more Callie stopped being an option the moment she smiled, and her eyes met mine. Hell, it probably happened further back than that.

I drop onto the floor and stare up at the rafters of an unfinished ceiling while accepting my fate. I want a girl—thegirl—and not just for a night or two. I want Callie Henders for weeks or months or some other indefinite amount of time. Now I have to tell her I want to be with her and hope she doesn’t think I’m full of shit.

---