Page 45 of Cross the Line
“You good?” I ask as his head tips back and he lolls it toward me.
Eli nods. “You?”
“Yeah,” I start, but that heavy churn roils in my gut, and I can’t continue with the lie. “I’m trying.”
With another nod, Eli presses his thigh to mine and lays his forearm along it with his palm up. Opening himself to my touch. Maybe because he needs it. Maybe because he knows I do. Either way, I set my hand in his and lean my temple against his. Across from us, Finley and Christina whisper-giggle.
“Do you wish I hadn’t told you?” Eli whispers, the rough pad of his thumb tracing the side of my index finger, knuckle to knuckle, again and again.
“No,” I murmur. “I’m glad you told me. I just wish I could do more than carry that memory with you. I wish I could erase it or at least make it better…”
He sighs, shoulder sinking into mine. “Telling you has made it morebearable. Like I’ve been holding my breath all this time, and now I can finally let it go. Like I won’t be so empty that I’ll crumple into nothing.”
“But Taylor knows.” The edge in my voice is a blade. Every time I line up the facts, I see a trail of people who could have, should have, and didn’t do more to help Eli and Finley. And since the first second I saw him, that the urge to protect him was born in me, I became one of those people.
For years, I have done nothing because I was too afraid of pushing him away from me.“Telling Taylor was a necessity,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Telling you was a choice.”
My ribs cinch around my lungs. When he lifts his head, his soft smile breaks me open. This man has no idea what he does to me when he looks at me like I’m hanging his moon and painting the stars in his sky.
Fuck.How do you fall in love again when you’re already gone?
As if he’s said everything he needed to with that one look, he rests his head on my shoulder again, nuzzling into the crook of my neck while I press a kiss to the top of his forehead.
“Think Coach will actually let me play?” He asks, carrying on the conversation as we would any other day.
“If Weismann is out, I don’t think he has a choice. Besides, you're still the best defenseman on the team.” I shrug and he asks with a throaty chuckle, “You’re not blowing smoke up my ass, right?”
“Listen, Sweetheart…” I rest my lips on his forehead and squeeze his hand. “Just because you called me your boyfriend doesn’t mean I won’t give it to you straight anymore. If you suck, I’m going to tell you so, and then I’m going to taunt you until you do something about it. How else are you going to keep up with me?”
Eli laughs, loud and bright, so that Finley and Christina glance over. The sound loosens the vice around my chest and the knots in my stomach as Finley’s smile beams at us from the opposite couch. The hand on my thigh aches to hold hers while my other is laced with Eli’s.
“What are the two of you tittle-tattling about?” Finley levels us with a mock glare.
Her hair is messy and frizzy from both our hands. Her eyes sparkle like her wishes are finally real.
“The audacity of this man,” I chuff, “thinks I’m going to paint him in rainbows even though I’m the fucking unicorn here.”
Christina snorts. “Oh my God, if I ever peg a guy, I’m so using that.”
“Ewww…” Finley grimaces, nudging her, and I add, “That is not where I was going with that.”
“Sister!” Christina nudges her back. “Your toast is buttered on both sides, you don’t get to yuck anyone’s yum.”
“Touché,” Finley giggles, rubbing her flushed cheeks. “Still, I already know way too much about you and?—”
“Nope,” Eli cuts her off.
“We don’t need to know what Rio’s into. Fuck, we definitely don’t need that picture in our heads,” I say, slinging an arm around Eli’s shoulders. “Speaking of Matheo, maybe you can turn his frown upside down. He’s a miserable asshole.”
“No. No, no, no… just because you’re fucking my best friend doesn’t mean you can pimp me out to your man.”
“Jesus H Christ,” Eli groans as the wheels kiss tarmac. “Don’t get her started.”
“Does it count as pimping if you’ve already put out for said man? Also, the tattoos, the piercings…” Finley chokes on a laugh.
“If fucking was a religion, Matty’s cock would be the totem pole for it,” Christina says, rolling her eyes back with a theatrical groan.
If we needed a mood shift, we just got it. Even if Finley’s cringing and Eli has his face partly buried in my chest with embarrassment. It’s cute, and I’m so here for it.
