by Decker, Ally
She wondered now, too. Was it always like this, right here? Would she feel the same pull and confusion, and a weird longing? Was that what being nostalgic felt?
It was weird, having nothing to compare it to, and the realization hit hard. She felt hollow, as if she was just a front, a facade, with nothing behind the curtain. She knew it wasn't true, but right this second, it felt real and overwhelming in its intensity.
"You okay?" The words were whispered right next to her ear and when she opened her eyes, Elliot was leaning close enough for her to smell his aftershave as she inhaled sharply, surprised.
He pulled back right away and Naomi found herself wishing that he hadn't.
"I'm fine, I just got dizzy for a second there." The lie slid easily from her tongue, but he looked unconvinced. Then he nodded and handed her the glass of water by her plate. "Thanks," she muttered.
Her face felt hot and hands clammy, but she did feel better, despite the embarrassment. That hollowness was gone, vanishing quickly into memory, and Naomi would've sagged with relief, if she hadn't caught herself on time.
As she sipped the water, the rest of the guests seated at their table arrived, which fortunately distracted anyone who might have noticed something was wrong. They had barely got through another round of introductions when the DJ announced the arrival of the bride and the groom. Everyone cheered and clapped, and Naomi focused on her friend, who was beaming with happiness as she walked in, arm looped through her husband's, who looked equally as thrilled.
Their joy was infectious and managed to banish any lingering loneliness for the time-being. Naomi glanced at Elliot, who smiled brightly, obviously affected as well.
When their gazes met, it was the easiest thing in the world to answer with a similar smile of her own.
***
During dinner, the conversations at the table flew easily and Naomi found herself having a good time. Aside from Elliot, she mostly talked with Selena and Tim, the couple on her right, who were apparently very into vintage cars, something she had extensive knowledge of, thanks to daddy dearest. Then, out of the blue and right when it was quiet at the table as everyone was busy eating, Selena asked:
"How did the two of you meet?"
Naomi swore in her head. Of course they'd think we're together.
"We knew each other in high school, then lost touch," Elliot said as she tried to come up with the best way to explain the two of them. "We haven't actually come here together, we just reconnected."
Selena looked dangerously like she was about to coo, but it was Paula who asked the next question.
"So you were high school friends and only met each other again today?"
Naomi shook her head. "We actually met a few weeks ago when Elliot came in to the tattoo parlor I work at. This is our second chance meeting, believe it or not." She still couldn't believe it herself.
Selena did coo at this point and Naomi felt her cheeks getting warmer. People were cooing at her. What the hell?
"Tattoo, huh?" Paula turned to Elliot with a quirked smile. "I guess you're going all out on the rebel thing."
Naomi felt Elliot tense next to her, but she didn't get it. The remark wasn't cutting, it seemed like a joke. A joke was better than cooing.
Elliot glanced at Aiden before addressing Paula. "I'm trying my best. Speaking of," he turned to Naomi, "how about a dance? I promise I'll try not to step on your toes."
"Do that and I'll step on yours with my heel," Naomi retorted before letting him lead her onto the dance floor. They could both use a break from the questions.
When he pulled her closer, the height difference between them became even more pronounced as she had to tilt her head pretty far to see his face. But it didn't matter, because suddenly her body lit up with recognition, the low hum of attraction blasting into desire running under her skin, growing hotter in places they were touching.
She licked her lips and noticed him look. Was he attracted to her, then? When he hadn't called, she'd thought it was just her, but maybe…
"So, what's with that 'rebel' stuff?" she blurted out. "You never struck me as the rebel type back in high school."
Naomi knew she'd made a mistake before she even finished, but it was too late. His face hardened and his shoulder tensed under her palm.
CHAPTER FIVE
"So, what's with that 'rebel' stuff? You never struck me as the rebel type back in high school."
Of course not. Elliot's back muscles went rigid and he looked above Naomi's head to their table, where his brother was entertaining his date. Elliot thought he had escaped it when he asked Naomi to dance, but all he did was escape from Aiden's earshot.
"I'm still not," he finally told her. "It's just easy to come off like that, compared to my brother."
"Why?"
He could feel her gaze on him, so he glanced down, and damn, there was no other way but tell the truth when looking into those eyes.
"He's the perfect son. By the book, does all the right things, says all the right things… The whole package."
Naomi raised her eyebrows. "You're a cardiothoracic surgeon doing freaking heart transplants in your early thirties. How's that not doing the right things?"
His shoulders relaxed at the honest surprise in her voice. "That's what happens when you're born into a family of lawyers." He shook his head. "It's not that being a surgeon is a bad thing. But it's… It's the wrong right thing, so to speak. My parents, both my grandfathers, my uncle, my brother, my sister—all of them are lawyers. There hasn't been a man born in this family who wasn't one for three generations now."
"That's weird," she said, then grimaced. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's okay." He smiled. Her reaction actually helped him relax even more. It was like a breath of fresh air. "It's not unheard of in lawyer families—maybe not to this degree, but it is kind of a legacy thing. And don't get me wrong, it's not that my parents were against me becoming a doctor—" They just weren't happy about it. "It just made me into some kind of a rebel," he said, trying for a joke.
She smiled back at him, but he had a feeling she didn't buy his indifference. She didn't press for more, though.
"How did I not know you had a sister, though?" she asked instead. "I thought you only had a brother."
She didn't know about Carl, he realized, startled. He swallowed against the sudden gulp in his throat. Even back then, Carl was a topic no one mentioned anymore. Elliot had adapted to that quickly—too quickly—so by the time he'd met Naomi, he'd probably never thought about telling her.
And this, here, wasn't the time or the place, either, so once again, he'd kept quiet.
"Technically, Tori is our cousin, the daughter of my father's sister," he said instead. "Tori's parents fought a lot and her mother sent her to us for the summer one year. I don't know exactly what happened, but Tori just never left." He glanced to their table where she was sitting with Chuck, her date. "She'd go to visit her parents, of course, multiple times a year, and they'd come, too, although separately after the divorce. But a few months in, Tori seemed more like a sister than a cousin, you know? So that's what she became."
"That's awesome. I mean, not the fighting and divorcing part, but the sibling part."
Elliot chuckled. "Yeah, I got it. And yes, it's great." Then the song ended and another one started. "Up for more?" he asked, and there was a flash of something in her eyes that his body instinctively answered to. His grip on her hip tightened for a split second before he relaxed his fingers again.
"Yeah, sure," she breathed out before she lowered her head so he couldn't see her face.
He wanted to reach down and lift her chin, make her look up at him again. He wanted to see if that flash wasn't a fluke, if she could respond to him the same way he responded to her.
He didn't. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy what he had, however brief it might be.
***
They danced a lot throughout the evening. With the exception of a few dances he had to do�
�the bride and all the other women in his family—he and Naomi stuck together. It might have been the best reception Elliot had been to for that reason alone, but as the evening progressed, one thought at the back of his head grew more and more persistent—what would happen at the end of the night? Would they go their separate ways, leaving it to chance to perhaps throw them together again? Or would they do something different? Would he actually take a risk again this time around?
They were at a small alcove they found wandering down the corridor, taking a break for some peace and quiet, when Naomi looked up at him, her chin jutted forward, and asked, "Why didn't you call me?"
Elliot inhaled sharply as he leaned harder against the wall. They were standing next to each other, close enough for their arms to brush when either of them took a drink from the glasses they were holding. He wasn't sure if the contact helped or hindered him right now.
"I wasn't sure—" he started then paused. "I didn't want to presume you wanted me to call for anything other than the tattoo."
Naomi huffed. "I don't give that number to just any client."
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and he wanted to reach out and touch it. He didn't. He did, however, brush the back of his hand against hers.
"I didn't want to presume," he repeated in a whisper.
She glanced down at their hands. "Maybe I wanted you to," she whispered back.
He watched her lift her gaze to meet his. Her eyes were shining even in the shadows of the alcove. "I wanted to," he admitted. It felt like a confession, the tension culling in the pit of his stomach. "I thought about it a lot."
"Why didn't you?" she asked again. Maybe she read it on his face, that it wasn't the whole truth. Maybe she wanted to hear him admit it.
So he did. "It didn't end up too well the last time."
Naomi leaned back slightly, as if surprised. But how could she be?
"What do you— Wait, do you mean the prom?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod. "I know it's been years, but, once burned, twice shy, you know? I didn't want to mess everything up, like I did the last time."
Naomi opened her mouth, but no sound came out of it. She stared at Elliot, disbelief written all over her face, and Elliot had to force himself to stay put, to not say anything, not suggest they should just forget it. It looked like they might have gotten their wires crossed back then, somehow.
Probably.
Maybe.
"Elliot," she started slowly, voice measured and calm, in contrast with what he was seeing on her face. "Could you please tell me what you think happened back then?"
He frowned. "I asked you to prom, you got angry with me about it, you screamed, I tried to apologize, but you left and I never saw you again until three weeks ago?"
Naomi took in a shaky breath and turned to face him, leaning with her hip against the wall. Elliot almost smiled as he waited a second for her to hook one of her legs over the other. And she did. Even in the evening dress, she behaved just like she'd always had, years ago.
"Why did you think I was angry?" she asked, then shook her head as she twined her arms against her stomach. "No, wait, ignore that. Why did you ask me in the first place?"
Elliot ran a hand through his hair and looked out at the small park, now hidden in the dark with only few lights throughout. It's been years, get over yourself, he told himself before looking back at her.
"I wanted to ask you out many times before, but I knew you weren't interested and I didn't want to risk it. Then Jace asked Daisy to prom and you said you needed to move on, especially since you were leaving soon anyway, so I thought… Well, I obviously thought wrong."
"You wanted to ask me out earlier? Before the Jace and Daisy thing and my meltdown?"
Elliot frowned. "What meltdown? And yes, I did. I'd had a crush on you for months, I just assumed I didn't have a chance." He drank the rest of his wine. "I'm really, truly sorry I made you uncomfortable back then."
"You didn't—" she raised her voice, then looked back towards the corridor and huffed. "Shit, I got it all wrong. I'm the one who should apologize."
"No, it's—"
"Let me say my part," Naomi told him and he stopped, raising his hands in the gesture of surrender. "I didn't know you were serious about the invitation," she finally said, after the silence dragged uncomfortably for a while. "I thought it was a… a pity thing. I was crying over Jace, and you felt bad for me, so you decided to swoop in. I got angry, because I thought you're feeling sorry for me and I hate that."
I know, he wanted to say, because he remembered how proud she'd been, back then. But it had been years, what did he really know about her now? Other than a few familiar gestures and the fact that she still made his stupid heart misbehave?
"I never pitied you in my life," he said instead. "Not even once. Sure, I felt bad for you over Jace, but that was because we were friends and I didn't want you to suffer. And I knew how the unrequited thing could hurt. But that's it. No pity."
"Oh, wow," Naomi whispered. Her eyes were open wide as she stared at the window. "Oh, wow, I got it all wrong."
He didn't know what to say. For years, he felt guilty about destroying their friendship. To know that it was a misunderstanding… On one hand, it was a relief. On another, he was now left with a different set of what-ifs.
"I'm sorry for all the yelling and shouting." Naomi put a hand on the side of his shoulder which sent warm currents down his arm. "You didn't deserve that."
He nodded, accepting the apology. "I'm sorry you felt I was pitying you."
"Well, that was my fault for thinking that," she told him and waved it off when he wanted to argue. "Forget it, that's in the past. But maybe we can have a do-over?"
"A do-over?" There was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he fought it down, even as he could feel hope growing inside him.
"Well, the prom is out, even if I kinda think we could count this party as the grown-up substitute," she told him with a smirk and raised her wine glass. "But we could have a do-over with asking out in general." She grinned. "And getting a correct answer this time around."
Elliot grinned back.
"So." He leaned slightly into the hand she still had on his arm. "Would you like to have dinner with me some time?"
She tightened her grip for a second. "I would love that."
"Perfect."
Because in that moment, it was.
CHAPTER SIX
Naomi had been sitting down in the parlor's staff room with her feet up and the sketchbook on her lap, when Fiona walked in and headed straight for the coffee maker.
"Hey, there, lady." She waved as she passed by the couch. "How was your weekend?"
"Good." Great, she corrected in her head, picturing Elliot smiling down at her softly and with a new kind of promise. "How about you?"
"Fabulous." Fiona dropped down on the couch next to Naomi, almost sloshing the coffee out from her mug. "Shit."
"Watch out or Ed's going to kill you." Their boss was very peculiar about the new couch, but he really should've thought twice about buying one that was light gray. They dealt with ink and coffee all day. The stains were inevitable.
Fiona shrugged and grinned at her above her mug. "If my date from last night didn't kill me, nothing will."
Naomi chuckled. "Oh, so that's why you're barely awake at eleven thirty in the morning, huh?"
"Of course. Why else?" Fiona widened her eyes to pose as innocent, but they both knew better than that. "When the sex is this good, sleep is a waste of time."
"The words of wisdom from one and only Fiona Del Rey," Ed said, walking in. "What would we do without them?"
Fiona rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't know what to do with them," she shot back and Naomi hid her grimace. These two were circling around each other since she'd gotten here and according to Justin, it was like that before, too. But neither of them ever really made a move, so they were stuck in that pulling pigtails stage.
Fiona's next words made Nao
mi forget all about her co-workers' unresolved sexual tension, though.
"I could help Naomi out, though. We should go out over the weekend, I'm sure we could find you someone."
Naomi was shaking her head before Fiona even finished. "I can find my own dates, thank you."
"You can, but you don't." Fiona shrugged. "That's why—"
"I have a date this Friday." Right as she said it, Naomi realized she walked into a trap, but it was too late. The glint in Fiona's eye told her so. Even Ed turned from messing with the coffee maker to look at her.
"Ohh, do tell." Fiona sat up straight and turned to face Naomi. "Who is it? Where did you meet?"
"I don't—"
"If it's an online thing, don't worry, you can tell us. No shame. Actually, you better tell us, just in case they're a creep."
"It's not an online thing." Naomi weighted her options and in the end decided it was better to just get this over with. "It's Elliot, that guy I knew, from a few weeks back."
"The old flame? Niiice!" Fiona bumped her in the shoulder. "He finally called, good for him."
"Is this the guy I forgot to cancel on?" Ed asked. "I heard the two of you were cozy."
"We were not cozy."
"Multiple sources said you were laughing and chuckling, and being overall nice. For you, that's cozy."
"I hate you. I quit."
"You're booked through April, we can talk then," Ed tossed back, completely unperturbed. "So, what about the guy? It will keep me from thinking about the damn lease, humor me."
That sobered Naomi right up. Shit, she forgot about it. One day Ed had let it slip that the owner of the building was being difficult about extending the lease, but he hadn't mentioned it again. Until now.