Not in love

33

SAD, BEAUTIFUL FORTRESS GIRL

RUE

The sun was already setting, but I worried that he might still be at the office, and that not finding him might force me to reconsider what I was about to do. Thankfully, I spotted Eli as soon as I pulled up to his street.

He was unlocking his front door, but he turned around when he heard my car approach. In the dusk, his eyes widened. Then softened. I got out quickly, without bothering to collect myself, and marched to him with an outstretched hand.

Eli stared at my open palm for a long while. “What is it?”

“Take it.”

He plucked out the USB. “What’s on it?”

“You know what.”

His expression traveled from confused, to understanding, to shocked. “No.” He shook his head and tried to return it. “Rue, I didn’t tell you so that you—”

“I know. But she took it from you. From Minami. From Hark.”

“Rue.”

“And we agree that she shouldn’t have.”

“We?”

“Tisha and I.”

He stared at the USB pinched between his fingers, silent.

“If Kline is breaking the terms of the loan contract, then Harkness has the right to know. I’m not giving you any secrets. These are just . . .”

“The documents she should have handed over weeks ago?”

At least, I hoped so. I had access to Florence’s office and computer—and a healthy ignorance of financial records. But that’s what Nyota was for.

After a brief hesitation, Eli slid the USB in his pocket. “Thank you, Rue.”

“You’re welcome.” I took a deep breath. “Can I . . .”

He tilted his head.

I swallowed. “The last few days have been . . . difficult. For me. If tonight . . . if I asked you to take me in and let me stay with you, and not mention a single word about Florence, or Kline, would you—”

He opened the door before I could finish the sentence—an unequivocal invitation—and a wordless conversation passed between our locked gazes.

Can I trust you, Eli?

Always.

My heart leaped in my throat. I stepped inside—and was assaulted once again.

“Down, Tiny,” Eli drawled, not bothering to hide his delight at the way his dog’s paws rested on my midriff. “I’m not letting her leave anytime soon. You’ll get to snuggle later.” Tiny licked my chin, and I flinched.

“I don’t really snuggle.”

“Color me shocked.” He took off his glasses and set them next to a stack of unopened mail. Not Harkness’s Eli anymore, but mine.

Mine.

It was half-ridiculous and all pathetic to think of him in those terms, but relief flooded me anyway. “Is it a vanity thing?” I asked.

“What?” He grabbed something from a shelf, and Tiny circled us and jumped up and down, clearly in the middle of a galvanic episode. Were all dogs this shamelessly happy? Science should study their blood. Come up with good drugs.

“The glasses. You only wear them at work. Are you trying to come across less like a former hockey player and more like a nerd?”

“I only wear them at work because, according to my ophthalmologist, I have the eyesight of a man in his eighth decade and need glasses for reading and staring at computer screens.”

“Ah.”

“But thank you for telling me that I look like a dense jock.”

“I didn’t—”

“Shh. I know. Let’s go.” He unspooled some kind of flat rope. It was . . .

Oh no. “Where?”

He hooked the rope to Tiny’s collar. “To walk my dog.”

I took a step back, and he followed. Gently pried my hand from my side and slid the leash around my wrist. “Eli, I shouldn’t be in charge of—”

“If you stay, you’re going to have to earn your keep.”

I shook my head. “I’m not really a—”

“Pet person?” He looked at me like nothing I could have said would surprise him. Like he knew not just the contours, but also the shaded, buried parts of me. At the very least, he knew that they existed. “Let’s go.” His voice was kind but adamant, and I had no choice.

I followed Tiny’s indiscernible interests all over the sidewalk, feeling his leash tug determinedly at my fingers. Several neighbors were out, walking their own dogs, and they stopped often to exchange pleasantries (with Eli) and vigorous butt-sniffings (Tiny).

“Not what I had in mind when I came over,” I muttered, pulled in the direction of Tiny’s whims. Eli seemed unfazed, and never made a move to take the leash from me, not even when Tiny freed himself to chase a squirrel, forcing me to run after him in what had to be a Looney Tunes–worthy display.

“Don’t worry, I will fuck you later,” Eli murmured once I was back at his side, nodding at an elderly lady who was walking a poodle that looked eerily like her. I glanced at Tiny, then Eli. There was a resemblance there, too—the messy, curly brown hair. Was this a thing? “But since you came to me, I figured we could do things my way.”

“We always do things your way.”

“Do we?”

We didn’t, and I knew it. Since the very start, I’d been the one setting boundaries, making requests, building fences. Probably because, since the very start, I’d sensed he’d be willing to push past them. His role had been well defined: respect my wishes, follow my lead.

But after the last few days, it was obvious that he wanted a hazy, undefined more. Which was hazily, undefinedly terrifying.

“Don’t worry, Rue. I’m not going to ask you for anything scandalous, like to skate with me.” He glanced at me in tender amusement, as if I were a child who still believed in leprechauns at the end of the rainbow. “This is not a date, or anything as gross and morally perverted as that.”

And yet, it felt just as disturbing. Back at his house, he took a couple of minutes to send the files to his team, and then sat me on a stool while he prepared something with couscous and stir-fry and spicy, mouthwatering scents.

“Is this the last of your signature dishes?”

“Yup. I’m going to have to learn a few more if I want to keep luring you here.”

Do you? Are you sure you want me around? “Where is Maya?”

“Camping.”

“Doesn’t she have summer classes?”

He shook his head. “On break. Left early this morning.”

I’d come here because I couldn’t stand to be alone with my thoughts, but with the darkening sky, the rhythmic chopping sounds, the veggies sizzling in the pan, my mind drifted back to Florence. What she’d done. The way she rationalized her actions, as though a valid justification for her behavior existed. There had to have been a point, in my years of knowing her, in which she had expressed some kind of belief that hinted at her capacity for something like this. And I’d missed it.

“Relax.” Eli’s voice startled me. His large hands wrapped around my shoulders, thumbs digging firmly into the knots between my scapulae.

“I am relaxed.”

“Sure.”

“I am.”

“Rue.” Something light and warm nuzzled the crown of my head. His nose, maybe. “If you’re here to avoid thinking about it, then do so.”

“I’m sorry. I know I’m not good company. I should be more . . .”

“More?”

“Engaging. Chatty. Sociable. Charming.”

He circled my stool to catch my eyes, and I fought the impulse to guide his hands back to me. “Should you?”

I shrugged, and he went back to the stove and tossed the veggies in one smooth move. My social inadequacies were old news by now, but what if Eli didn’t understand the full extent of it? What if he thought he knew me, but—

“You’re enough, Rue. And if you aren’t . . . I just don’t mind.” I stared at his back as he worked, watching his muscles play under the cotton. “I said it before, but I do like you. You’re fu

It was my cue to laugh at his joke and dismiss the rest, but my heart was beating hard in my throat. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“You could return the compliment.”

“I should praise your sense of justice and morality?”

“Not that one.”

“Ah.” I nodded. “I guess you’re an okay lay, too,” I said flatly, and my heart galloped when he laughed from someplace deep in his chest. “You don’t resent me?”

“Why should I?”

“If it hadn’t been for what was stolen from you, I wouldn’t have this career.”

“You would still have a career.” He carried both plates to the table and waited for me to join him.

“Sure, I’d be working somewhere else. But my project was funded with something that was taken from you.”

“No, I don’t resent you for that. It looks like you are resenting yourself, though. And we agreed that tonight wasn’t about that.” Eyes still on me, Eli scooped up a forkful of food and began eating. “Did Vincent come back?”

I blinked at the abrupt change of topic. “No. I’ve been calling real estate lawyers, but it’s summer. A few are on vacation, a few are not affordable, some are not taking on new clients. I want to buy him out, and I have some money set aside. I’d been saving it for the down payment on a house. Or for when my car frees itself of its mortal coil. Or in case I need a new kidney.”

“Those three things have vastly different costs, Rue.”

“Have fun on The Price Is Right, Finance Guy.”

He smiled. “Eat up. Your food’s getting cold.”

I’d assumed we would transition to sex after di

His arms, wrapped around me, felt equally alien and mundane. In the uncertainty of the night, I let myself be led down the path of least resistance and sank into his body. He was warm. He smelled good. Outside of sex, I’d never touched someone for such a prolonged time, but contact with him was soothing. “Watching team sports” ranked somewhere below “tweezing spines out of a cactus” on my list of enjoyable activities, but this was, somehow, good.

Really good.