Page 46 of The Art of Loving Ellie
I wipe my face on the blanket and meet his eyes with my tear-filled ones. “Alex and I had a huge fight today, and I’m pretty sure I’m out of a job. He said that he doesn’t understand why I’m so upset when Robert has treated me so terribly my whole life, but—” hiccupping I try and catch my breath, “—it’s not true. He wasn’t Father of the Year by any means, but I’ve realized that I’ve been harboring all this anger for him in my heart for so long because he was a scapegoat.
“He told me he has stage-four colon cancer, and that’s the reason he didn’t make an attempt at being a part of my new life. He knew I was angry and didn’t want to burden me any further.” He gently rubs my arm in a soothing up and down motion, helping to stop the tears. Positioning me so that I’m in between his legs, we lay back onto the couch together with the back of my head resting against his abdomen, and he gently runs his fingers through my hair.
“I know that there were plenty of ways he could have been a better father, but now that he’s dying, I hate myself for being so selfish and not realizing all of this sooner.” I take a shaky breath. I couldn’t be more thankful for his presence.
“I’m so sorry about your dad, Ellie. Life can be so unfair—especially to those most deserving of its fairness.” He gives my shoulders a soft squeeze, and brings his hand up to my cheekbone, absently rubbing his thumb over it back and forth as I stare up at the ceiling.
“Yeah, well, the person I really should be angry with is my mother—and look at me, acting just like her.” I close my eyes feeling the disappointment settle deep in my stomach next to the very thing that reminds me of her.
“You're not acting like your mother. There’s nothing you could ever do to be anything like her, I promise.” I hear a smile in his voice, and an answering smile touches my lips.
We sit up, and he looks out at the windows across from us that frame the night sky, and the moon reflecting over the Hudson River. Suddenly, he leans forward and stands, leaving my side instantly cold.
“Stay here.”
I shiver, watching curiously as he heads into my bathroom. Ten minutes later, I’m slowly dozing off on the couch, when he appears next to me. He uncovers me and picks me up, carrying me to the bathroom. Setting me down, he motions to the steaming hot bubble bath he’s made for me.
“I thought you might like some time alone to unwind.” I turn to face him, overwhelmed with the urge to cry again, but I thank him instead, and he gently closes the door leaving me to soak.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but as I dry off, I notice my buzz has turned into a low hum that’s barely discernable. I wonder to myself if he’s left, or if I might still find him out there waiting for me as I slip on my robe and slippers. My anxieties tell me no one would want to put up with a mentally unstable woman who calls for a booty call while intoxicated—but my worries dissipate as soon as I open the door to see Tyler lying on my bed.
His gaze travels over my body, looking at me greedily. He’s changed out of his previous outfit into only a pair of shorts, showcasing the smooth tan skin that makes up his upper body. I don’t shy away from him as I let my eyes hungrily soak up his relaxed figure on my bed, all while my heart stutters at the thought of him staying with me.
“Hey there. Feeling better?” The smile he gives me practically illuminates the room.
“Much better, thank you.” He pats the bed beside where he’s lying and I crawl over to him, sloth slippers and all. I snuggle up to him and bask in the heat that his body willingly gives me.
He looks down at my shoes questioningly, and I laugh lightly, “Don’t ask.”
Chapter Fifteen
I’m dying. I wake up feeling like my head is caught in between a metal vice, and I can barely open my eyes. Blinking around, I see that it’s dark, but I can’t quite remember where I am or what is happening to me. I hear the sound of someone getting off of the bed I’m lying in, and it sounds a lot louder than it should be.
“Ughh,” I groan, laying my forearm over my eyes as I try to stop the horrible spinning sensation I’m feeling.
Soft footsteps approach from my side of the bed and the warm hand that cradles mine drops two pills into the center of my palm.
“Here, take these. I got you some water too.” His voice is gentle and soothing, and I have no choice but to lean over and accept the glass of water from him. The rush of cold water in my mouth is refreshing to my dry tongue, and I feel a wet washcloth swipe across my forehead. I let out a helpless moan.
“Shhh, Princess. You’re going to be okay,” he tells me, stroking my hair until I feel strong enough to lay back against my pillow. The bed dips beside me, and warmth encompasses my whole body as he pulls me into him, and the smell of amber carries me off to blissful sleep.
∞∞∞
When I wake a second time, I see gentle light filtering through the slats of the blinds on my bedroom window. I blink open sore eyes and take stock of my surroundings. Tyler’s light snores tickle my bare shoulder, and I suppress a giggle. I’m completely naked, my robe somehow long gone through the night, and turning my head back to the man cocooning me, I take a moment to stare at the perfection that is his body.
Half of his body weight rests on my side, with one arm and one heavy leg thrown over mine. The daylight caresses his bare shoulders, and my satin sheets mold themselves perfectly around his ass. I bite my lip in an attempt to control my libido, but if the warmth spreading between my legs is any indication, I’m failing miserably.
My gaze reluctantly moves to the ceiling as memories from yesterday assault me. My fight with Alexandre weighs heavily on my heart, and I’m absolutely terrified that our friendship may never mend itself. Yesterday I was all but ready to cut our ties; but now, basking in the embarrassing afterglow of my self-sabotage, I’m not so sure I’m ready to let him go.
My head no longer hurts, but I remember waking up with so much pain and confusion, and I can still hear Tyler’s comforting words as he took care of me. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head at my childishness. I’m never drinking again.
The hand that Tyler has around my waist starts to twitch as he stirs awake, and every single hair on my body stands on end. His thumb moves around my belly button in slow, lazy circles, and a flood of heat begin to pool between my legs.
He rubs his face gently back and forth against my shoulder, and I love the feel of his rough five o’clock shadow on my smooth, bare skin.
“Good morning,” I tell him, trying to focus on his sleepy smile as he continues his small strokes on my belly.
“How are you feeling, Dionysus?”
