“I like it,” Mario said, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. He was in his early twenties and already boasted thinning hair. He was one of the few cousins who didn’t make me want to deafen myself with Q-tips on a regular basis, though, so I tried to refrain from making fun of him. “If you go to it with hot chicks they almost always sweat through their tank tops and give you a nice view of their goods.”
“You’re kind of a pig,” I said.
“There’s no ‘kind of’ about it,” Derrick said, making a face. “You should respect women, Mario. They’re people, too.”
Now it was my turn to make a face. “Who are you trying to impress with that majestic pile of crap?” I asked, glancing around. “Where is Devon?”
“She couldn’t make it to dinner tonight,” Derrick replied, averting his gaze. “She had something else to do.”
“Find a personality?” I asked, feigning hopefulness.
“For your information, she’s going out with some of her work friends,” Derrick said. “Her life doesn’t revolve around our family and this diner.”
“I didn’t know she had friends,” I admitted. “I’m impressed someone wants to spend time with her when it’s not mandated by employment.”
“You should really shut up,” Derrick warned. “At least my girlfriend has an excuse for why she isn’t here. Where is your boyfriend?”
“He’s not speaking to me.” I saw no sense in lying. “I think he might be hiding from me.”
“Is this all because you smelled yesterday?” Mario asked.
“Pretty much,” I said, opting to avoid a deep discussion – and possible familial meltdown – for as long as possible. “What’s up with you? Are you and Grandpa still running your food truck?” In an effort to drive his father nuts, Mario and our grandfather had taken to driving a food truck to area events to make extra money. They’d proven popular, and now my uncle was making noise about wanting in on the profits. Grandpa and Mario didn’t like that, and were planning some form of retaliation. Whatever they were up to was hush-hush these days.
“We’re running it,” Mario confirmed. “We plan to expand, too.”
“How is that going to work?” I asked. “Are you going to get another truck?”
“I can’t talk about it,” Mario said. “It’s a secret.”
“Your food truck is a secret?” That sounded weird … and potentially funny. Whenever Mario and my grandfather put their heads together the one thing they’re assured of coming up with is hilarity. “Are you making special pies together or something?”
“If you meant that to be dirty I think you’re gross,” Mario said. “If you meant that to be funny for a different reason, I don’t get it and I’m sorry. I said I couldn’t tell you what we’re doing. We’re not ready to unveil our big plan yet.”
“I can’t wait until you are ready,” I said, shifting my gaze back to Derrick. “How about you? Do you miss your girlfriend?”
“I think she’s going to break up with me,” Derrick said.
I was surprised. I thought they were happy. I couldn’t remember witnessing an argument between them other than those with and about me. “Why do you think that?”
“She’s been pulling away,” Derrick replied, forlorn. “She keeps taking phone calls in another room so I can’t hear … or whispering if she thinks I’m too close. That can’t be a good sign.”
It didn’t sound good, but who was I to comment on anyone’s love life? “At least she’s not hiding from you,” I said. “I waved at Eliot before court today and he didn’t wave back. Then I texted him six times and called him twice, and he ignored all of it.”
“Do you think he’s going to break up with you?” Derrick asked.
“I think it’s a distinct possibility.” It was hard to admit, but that fear was fueling me right now. I couldn’t think about anything else.
“Are you sad?” Mario asked. He looked genuinely curious.
“I’m very sad,” I said.
“Why are you sad?”
I froze when I heard the voice, forcing a watery smile before turning to face my mother. She’s sneaky when she wants to be. I hadn’t heard her approach, and now I was in a bad situation. She viewed Eliot as her last chance to marry me off. If she knew he was already gone she would have a righteous fit and I would never hear the end of it.
“I’m not sad,” I clarified. “I’m … bad.”
“Yes, she’s bad,” Mario deadpanned with a straight face. “She’s about to break out in jerky dance moves any second now.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I don’t think it sounds good,” Mom said. “Where is Eliot?”
My heart rolled. “Um … .”
“I’m right here.” Eliot smiled at my mother before slipping into the booth seat next to me, causing my heart to roll. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad.”
“That’s okay,” Mom said. “I’m just glad you’re here. I was starting to worry. Avery had her head bent and was talking about being sad with her cousins. I thought for sure you came to your senses and broke up with her.”
“No,” Eliot said, meeting my gaze. “I did not come to my senses.”
That wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement of our relationship. “I wasn’t sure you were coming,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I … .”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Eliot said.
“You’ll talk about what later?” Mom asked, her gaze bouncing between Eliot and me.
“It’s nothing,” Eliot said. “We had a minor disagreement.”
“About what?” Mom asked. “What did you do, Avery?”
“How do you know I did something?” I asked. Technically I was the one at fault, but she couldn’t possibly know that, and for her to assume it was me hurt.
“I’ve met you,” Mom said. “You need to get your head together and be nicer to poor Eliot. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you since … well … you got mono and lost all that weight in middle school. I was worried you were going to have really thick thighs there for a while.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Mom ignored my sarcasm. “Eliot is a saint for putting up with you,” she said. “You should treat him like the saint that he is.”
“What are you suggesting?” I asked. “Should I bow down to him when he enters a room, or just make myself small so I don’t offend him?”
“Don’t be smart,” Mom said. “You know darned well that’s not what I meant. You have no idea how lucky you are to have Eliot.”
“I know how lucky I am,” I grumbled. “I just … forget not to be stupid sometimes.”
Eliot sighed as he tugged a restless hand through his shoulder-length hair. “It wasn’t a big fight,” he said. “We’re fine. There’s no reason for you guys to get all … crazy.”
“That’s how we live our lives,” Mario said. “We can’t help ourselves. It’s in the genes.”
“I’ve noticed,” Eliot said.
“As always, I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Mom said. “If you need someone to act as a couple’s counselor, though, I’m more than willing. I’ve seen every episode of Dr. Phil. I know what I’m doing.”
“I’ll take it under consideration,” I said, biting my tongue to make sure I didn’t fly off the handle. Mom thankfully got distracted by Grandpa’s evolving nude stories and stomped off in his direction a few minutes later. That gave me a chance to study Eliot’s face as he scanned the menu. “I … um … texted and called you. You didn’t call me back.”
“I was on a job all day,” Eliot replied, refusing to look in my direction. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. I had my phone off. I forgot to turn it on when I was done. I didn’t see the texts or calls.”
Was that the truth? Part of me hoped it was. Maybe he didn’t see my panicked text messages. Maybe he didn’t realize I was melting down. “Okay.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Oh, that was pathetic,” Derrick said. “Ar
e you going to let him walk all over you that way?”
“Leave it alone,” Eliot ordered. “You’re not a part of this.”
“Yeah, don’t you have your own problems with Devon?” I challenged. “You just told me she was going to break up with you, and now you’re getting joy out of our problems.”
“I would rather watch you two break up,” Derrick shot back. “I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, blowing out a frustrated sigh.
“Your grandfather’s famous spaghetti is on the menu,” Eliot said. “That’s what I’m getting.”
I couldn’t help but notice he purposely averted his gaze. Every single time I tried to catch his eye he managed to find something else to look at. “Eliot, I’m sorry.” The apology was barely a whisper.
“I don’t think he heard you,” Mario interjected. “You should say it louder this time.”
“And maybe get on your knees and beg when you do it,” Derrick added.
My stomach constricted. “Do you guys have to do this right now?” I asked, cringing when my voice cracked. “Don’t you want to go to the salad bar or something?” The salad bar was in the dining room, which meant I could have five minutes alone with Eliot if they left.
“I’m good,” Mario said.
“Me, too,” Derrick said.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Eliot finally shifted his dark eyes to me and shook his head.
“Do you guys mind going to the salad bar?” Eliot asked.
“Sure, man,” Mario said, sliding out of the booth. “All you had to do was ask.”
Derrick looked as if he was going to put up more of a fight, but he ultimately ceded the table, leaving Eliot and me alone with our unhappiness.
“Look, Avery … .”
I cut him off. “I’m sorry for what I said and did,” I offered. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry, though, and I needed someone to yell at. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Eliot made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. “I know you didn’t,” he said. “I know you were hurting when you said it. I know you were hurting when I left. That doesn’t change the fact that you lash out before you think. That drives me crazy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re sorry,” Eliot said. “I’m not here to argue. I’m also not here to talk about this. We’re going to have dinner, put on a decent show for your mother so she doesn’t go nuts, and then we’re going to go home and talk. We have a lot to discuss.”
That sounded ominous. “I … .”
“Decide what you’re going to order, Avery,” Eliot instructed. “The sooner we order, the sooner we can get out of here and get to business. I’m not messing around tonight.”
Okay, that was definitely ominous.
16
I was a bundle of nerves when I pulled into my driveway. Eliot beat me home and was already in the house when I climbed out of my car and trudged inside. I had no idea what he was about to say to me, but I was terrified he was going to end our relationship.
My heart hurt at the thought.
Eliot sat on the couch, his eyes trained on the television as I approached. I dropped my purse on the dining room table and slowly moved into the living room. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say, but I couldn’t ignore him. Like everything in my life, I had to know the truth.
“The Pistons fired their coach,” Eliot said, shaking his head. “They need to fire the entire team and start over.”
“Are you about to break up with me?”
Eliot sighed. “You really are a piece of work,” he said, shaking his head. “Come over here and sit down.”
“Just tell me if you’re going to break up with me,” I instructed, my heart hammering. “I need to know.”
“Come here and sit down, Avery,” Eliot ordered, hitting the mute button on the television.
My feet felt heavy – alien almost – as I moved to the couch. I placed my hands on my knees and sat ramrod straight, staring blankly at the wall as I waited for him to drop the hammer. I refused to cry. I wasn’t going to do it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of playing games all day and then crying when he walked out the door.
“What did you do today?” Eliot asked.
The question surprised me. Why was he delaying the inevitable? “I covered a court case,” I said. “You saw me go to the courthouse this morning. I waved and you pretended I wasn’t there.”
“I did not pretend you weren’t there,” Eliot argued. “I waited for you to come in. You left instead. What case did you cover?”
“That guy who got lit on Christmas Eve and took the steak knife to all those inflatables in his neighborhood.”
Eliot chuckled. “I remember that guy. He was funny. He was wearing a Santa hat and nothing else, if memory serves.”
“I thought the case would be more entertaining, but it was quite boring,” I said. “Then I went to the pawnshop at lunch and you were gone. I ate alone and then asked one of the clerks to pull some files for me.”
“I had a job to do,” Eliot said. “I told you that. I didn’t realize you were going to be around at lunch. What files did you have the clerk pull?”
His perfunctory questions made me want to hit someone. I kept my hands to myself … even though it was difficult. “I had an idea during court today,” I said. “I pulled the Jackson divorce documents. They proved I was right, and I gave them to Fish and MacDonald at the office.”
“Did you get your story back?”
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“I’m happy for you,” Eliot said. “Pulling the divorce documents was smart.”
“I also pulled Tad’s divorce documents while I was there. I’m going to totally mess with him at a later date.” I had no idea why I added the Tad tidbit, but I was out of my element and couldn’t remember the last time I was this nervous.
“It sounds like you had a full day,” Eliot said.
“I did.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I also called you twice and texted you six times. You ignored me.”
“I told you I was on a job,” Eliot snapped. “I forgot to turn on my phone.” He dug into his pocket and tapped the power button. “Obviously you don’t believe me. Everything I missed should pop up once the phone boots.”
Morbid curiosity kept my gaze on the phone, and sure enough, when Eliot’s phone came on line he had a steady stream of missed calls and unanswered texts. I wasn’t the only one who tried to get in touch with him during the course of the day. “Who is Sheila?”
“No one,” Eliot said, shaking his head as he glanced at the text messages. Unfortunately for him – and me – my texts got progressively more desperate as the afternoon wore on. “She’s a business associate.”
“You have business associates who call you twelve times in one day?” I asked, irked.
“What are you accusing me of, Avery?” Eliot asked.
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” I said, tears threatening to overwhelm me. “If you’re here to break up with me for Sheila, though, can you please get it over with? I need to go to bed. I didn’t sleep well last night and I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Why are you going to be sick?”
“I probably ate something bad at dinner,” I said, irritation bubbling up when I had to wipe a tear away.
“You had the same thing I did,” Eliot reminded me. “I feel fine.”
“How great for you,” I snapped, moving to climb off the couch. “I need to go to bed.”
“We’re nowhere near done,” Eliot said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to remain on the couch. “Take a breath, Avery.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“I’m fine.”
“Avery, you need to breathe,” Eliot ordered, grabbing my chin. “Exhale. Exhale!”
I blew out a pent-up breath. “I said I’m fin
e.”
“I’m not going to break up with you, Avery,” Eliot said. “Good grief. I had no idea you were this worked up. I’m sorry I didn’t get your calls and texts. Now that I’ve read them I’m really sorry. I missed you, too.”
“You did?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” Eliot said, pushing my hair out of my face. “Did you think I forgot about you in a day and a half?”
I shrugged. “You’re hot. I thought maybe Sheila made you forget me.”
Eliot groaned. “You drive me crazy, Avery,” he said. “You make me want to rip my hair out of my head. That doesn’t change the fact that I love you. I don’t want anyone but you. Stop being a pain in the ass and listen to me for a second. Do you think you can do that?”
I mutely nodded, pressing my lips together to keep from saying something stupid.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your messages,” Eliot said, his tone calm and rational. “When I saw you this morning I thought you weren’t ready to play nice yet. I thought that’s why you didn’t come in. I went to dinner to force your hand. I honestly didn’t realize you were so worked up.
“You and I need to have a very serious talk, though,” he continued. “We can’t keep going around in the same circles. I’m not okay with you kicking me out when life gets overwhelming. If we’re going to be together we need to get through things together.”
“I shouldn’t have kicked you out,” I offered. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Eliot said. “I shouldn’t have left. I knew why you were doing it, but instead of helping you I let you go off the rails because I was hurt and didn’t feel like dealing with your crap. We’re not doing that again.”
“I think it’s illegal for us to fight to the death,” I said, going for levity. “How do you suggest we handle our fights from here on out?”
“Together.” Eliot’s answer was simple.
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“I want us to move in together,” Eliot said.
For a moment I thought my heart stopped beating. “What?”
“Don’t look at me that way,” Eliot chided. “I want to build a future with you, and the first step to doing that is for us to share a roof. We need a house you can’t kick me out of when we argue, because we’re going to keep arguing.”
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