I swallowed as goose bumps ran down my back. Dirty tricks! I pressed the carton with resignation into his chest. “Here. I just lost my appetite,” I mumbled.
Elyas smirked. He took the ice cream, stepped back, and leaned against the fridge. Without taking his eyes off me, he spooned ice cream into his mouth.
“Sure you don’t want any more?” he asked.
I folded my arms in front of me.
At regular intervals he made mmm sounds, which frustrated me even more. Staring daggers at someone while your mouth waters is quite difficult.
Yummy.
God, I needed more of that ice cream!
I made a show of looking at the knives jutting out of the knife block next to me. My little acting job amused Elyas no end.
“How can a person be so stubborn?” he asked.
I softly swore at myself. It had been only a matter of time before he drove me that far.
“Get down,” he said, heading for the couch. “Bring your spoon.”
We agreed to watch Fight Club to the end, sharing the ice cream. Elyas held the carton between us so we could sit next to each other in peace.
After a while I started feeling sleepy, but as long as there was ice cream left, the urge to eat it wouldn’t pass. We had reached the part in the movie where—spoiler alert—Edward Norton’s and Brad Pitt’s characters are revealed to be the same person. I looked at Elyas and wondered, with all the odd events of late, whether he had an alter ego, too. First, of course, there was the kid-Elyas I had grown up with and fallen for. Then there was the jerk-Elyas, who stopped at nothing to land me in bed. (Tonight he had actually succeeded, in a sense.) Then there was this grown-up Elyas I had come to know in the past few weeks. I wondered how much of the kid was still in this grown-up version.
A couple of weeks ago I would have answered that the kid-Elyas had become a total jerk. But since then, he had reminded me more than once of the person I had fallen in love with.
I couldn’t be so naïve, however, as to fall for his “hard shell, soft middle” routine. This was just a stereotypical female fantasy, and those never ended up matching reality.
Now that I knew Elyas hadn’t necessarily been a jerk back in high school, I wondered how he’d evolved into one. Was it simply the wrong environment? The wrong friends?
“Whatever happened to Kevin?” I asked. From what I could tell, their close friendship hadn’t withstood the test of the intervening years.
Elyas kept his spoon in his mouth for a moment and stared at the TV screen.
“Let’s just say we parted ways,” he replied.
“But you two were best friends for so long.”
“That’s one way to put it,” he sighed. “Until the day he decided to screw my girlfriend.”
Uh . . . OK . . . Lame.
Apart from that, though, his sentence contained one more bit of information I found equally shocking.
“You had a girlfriend?” I asked.
He laughed softly. “Believe it or not.”
“Elyas Schwarz, I’m shocked!” I clutched at my heart, and he grinned.
“In my defense, I have to say that was my only serious relationship. Just so you don’t develop some kind of distorted picture of me.”
“Of course.” I nodded formally.
I digested the implications of Elyas’s past. His love triangle story was a familiar-enough scenario, familiar from pretty much any bad Hollywood flick—but it had really happened to him. It must have felt awful, being betrayed that way by the two people he trusted most. I imagined Alex doing the same to me—an absolutely horrific thought.
Of course, I would need to have a boyfriend for that to happen, so pretty much 95 percent of my life was safe. But still.
Alex wasn’t Kevin. As sad as the story was, it didn’t surprise me, either. That’s exactly something I would have expected of Kevin.
“I always told you Kevin was an ass,” I said, sighing.
“It’s true; you did,” he replied, staring at the ice cream carton.
“Did he survive?”
“Kevin?”
I nodded, yawning softly.
“Just a few broken bones. Nothing that wouldn’t heal,” he said, only half joking. I abhorred violence, but putting myself in Elyas’s shoes, I could understand reacting in the heat of the moment.
“Was that very recent?”
“It was when we were in England together. Five or six years ago.”
I mused on Elyas’s experiences and then came to a conclusion. “Same old, same old,” I announced.
“Huh?”
“Same old story, I mean. A man falls in love—in this case you—is betrayed and made a fool of, and then mutates into a feelingless jerk who goes through women as though they were disposable.” It was so simple I was surprised I hadn’t seen it before.
“I don’t mean to call your pop-psych skills into question,” he said, smiling, “but it’s not as straightforward as that.”
“No?”
“No. First of all, I’ve told you I’m not feelingless. Second, as I’ve already mentioned, I’m not ‘getting my revenge’ on women or whatever. Quite the opposite: I like women, a lot. And third—” He paused. “Have you ever considered I might cast all those women to the wind the second the right one crossed my path?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Assuming it’s true what you say, then take it from a woman who knows a thing or two.”
He looked at me expectantly, awaiting my wisdom.
“There is no such thing as the right one. All you can do is decide who is the least wrong. So don’t wait for something that will never come.”
“You seriously believe that?”
“I know it,” I said with a yawn. Then I curled up into a ball on the sofa with my feet pointing toward Elyas.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then I’ll be happy to discover otherwise,” I answered, cuddling in. “Haven’t you ever deconstructed the concept of love, Elyas?”
“Like, my definition of it?”
“No, I mean what love is in general.”
“What is love in general?”
“A whim of nature, a genetic side effect—call it what you want. The fact is, love only exists so two people will stay together long enough to procreate and for the brat to make it to age eighteen.”
It took him a moment to reply. “I can’t imagine you see it so coldly.”
“I’m trying to,” I yawned. “It makes being lovesick a whole lot easier.”
“Do you often suffer from lovesickness?”
“Now and then, but thankfully only rarely an authentically broken heart.” Once, actually, to be exact.
Elyas didn’t say anything, so I closed my eyes.
“Can I . . . ask you something?” he said, interrupting the quiet.
“Depends,” I mumbled sleepily.
“Back in high school . . . ,” he started. “I mean, how much did you love me back then?”
“What does it matter?”
“Just that I’d be interested in knowing whether it was a ‘Maid in the Meadow’ kind of crush, or something more serious.”
I decided it’d be better—safer—not to let him know he was the only person I’d ever loved.
“Let’s put it this way,” I mumbled, half asleep. “I had already found the perfect spot to ditch your dismembered corpse forever.”
I’d hardly gotten those words out before I drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER 16
CARE BEARS, ICE CREAM, AND TEXT MESSAGES
A pleasant sensation at my temple slowly roused me from my deep sleep. It felt as though someone’s fingers were tenderly stroking that spot. I sighed and cuddled into the pillow; I didn’t ever want to awaken from this dream. The rich, cozy scent of coffee filled my nose,
and I inhaled it deeply. Mmm, coffee.
How was that smell getting into my room? Eva and I didn’t have a coffee machine . . .
Everything within me fought against opening my eyes, but I still carefully blinked. Bright light struck my pupils, and the contours of my environment slowly came into focus. As everything became clearer, I recognized a face. Then two beaming turquoise-green eyes.
I wrinkled my brow, raised my head, and looked around.
Movie night, Elyas, pot, ice cream, sleeping on the couch . . . I groaned, fell back onto the sofa, and pulled the blanket that was somehow now covering me over my head. I hoped either Elyas or I would vanish into thin air, but my wish went unfulfilled, as someone pulled the blanket off me.
I forced myself to open my eyes again—and saw Elyas sitting on the coffee table.
He was smiling. “Did you sleep well, my angel?”
“What time is it?”
“Ten ten.”
“You woke me up so early.”
“You mentioned something about wanting to study all day today. I thought I’d better wake you up.”
“Since when are you so attentive?” I asked.
“Since forever.” One corner of his mouth curled up.
As if, I thought, rubbing a hand over my face. I struggled to sit up, because every second I lay there, I was at risk of falling back asleep. Once I was sitting, I drew up my legs, wrapped myself in the blanket, and yawned.
“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you’re sleeping?”
I moaned. It was too early to put up with Elyas’s advances. “Has anyone ever told you about this thing called privacy?”
“Yeah, sure. But I couldn’t pass up a moment when you weren’t being peevish for once.”
I closed my eyes tightly. “How long have you been sitting there?” I didn’t even want to imagine how long it’d been.
He shrugged. “A while.”
I sighed, but was too tired to engage in our typical repartee. “Well, then. Either you can fill me in on all the exciting developments I missed while sleeping, or you could be a sweetheart and bring me some coffee.”
He reached behind his back, and his hand reappeared holding a steaming cup of coffee. I wrapped my hands around the warm porcelain and looked at him, wide-eyed. “Wow! Thank you.”
He grinned. “This could be yours every morning, dearest.”
I rolled my eyes before taking a sip. It tasted extremely good. It wasn’t long before Elyas’s turquoise-green X-ray eyes started watching me again, and I watched him, squinting over the edge of my cup. Couldn’t he leave me alone so I could enjoy my coffee?
I set the cup down and glared at him. Only then did I notice the damp tips of his hair and the vague smell of shower gel in the air. There was something about a freshly showered man—even if the man was named Elyas. Or maybe because . . .
I silently growled at myself, trying to suppress my thoughts again. I had to change the subject. “Say, how is it that Alex isn’t bouncing around here like a rubber ball this morning?”
“I was wondering the same thing.”
“And?”
“I have no idea where she is. Her room is empty, and her bed hasn’t been slept in.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. She’s in good hands with Sebastian,” he said. “You don’t think I’d leave my sister to someone I didn’t trust a hundred percent, do you?”
No, he would never do that. Besides, to the extent I had gotten to know Sebastian, he didn’t seem like a bad guy.
“Still, it’s weird.” I said half to myself. Our question soon found its answer when the door opened. With a dreamy look on her face and a blissful smile on her lips, Alex appeared, in the same clothes as yesterday. She closed the door behind her and walked through the living room. Floated might be a better word, since the look on her face meant she was currently in some kind of parallel Care Bear universe, unable to perceive Elyas or me at all.
“Alex?” I asked as she strode past us, hypnotized.
“Oh . . . hi!” she said, so calmly but melodiously I got worried. What on earth had happened to her?
The almost-nauseating happiness on her face didn’t lapse for even a second as she gradually flitted over to us like Tinkerbell and sat down on the couch with a satisfied sigh. Elyas and I looked at each other.
“Did he drug you?” I asked but got only a wide smile in reply. “I’m betting morphine, Valium, or some kind of serious antidepressants,” I said, turning to Elyas, who seemed to be wondering the same thing. “Could you check her pupils?”
“No drugs . . .” Alex breathed. “Just happy . . .”
“I know happy Alex,” I said. “The last thing she’d do is sit calmly with a stupid grin on her face! So whoever or whatever you are: If you’ve eaten Alex, spit her right back out!”
“It’s me,” she giggled. “You can be absolutely sure of that.”
“Might you then be so kind as to give us the scoop?”
“Oh, Emely,” she sighed. “I’m in love.”
I rolled my eyes. “We already knew that! What happened last night after Elyas and I left you two alone?”
She beamed, reveling in the memory, and then finally told us what had happened. “After you two left, we hung out for another half hour in the living room, holding hands. Then Sebastian asked me if I felt like going on a little trip.”
“Where did you go?” I asked. Alex was taking her time. Way too much time.
“Oh, it was so romantic, Emely.” She exhaled. “We took a drive through some woods—and I thought, where in the hell is he taking me? We came out onto a little rock ledge, with a view overlooking all of Berlin.”
“Up by that water tower?” Elyas asked.
Alex looked surprised. “You know it?”
“Yeah, Sebastian and I have been out there several times. It’s a nice place,” he said.
“Beautiful, even,” Alex mused, looking off into space.
“And then?” I prompted.
“Then,” she said dreamily, “we got out and sat on the hood of the car.” She stopped, looked at Elyas, and for a second I could detect the old Alex in there. “Sebastian isn’t as fussy about his car as you are, you see.”
Elyas made a face. “Well, if I had a BMW, I wouldn’t be fussy about it either.” He hates BMWs, just like me? Huh.
“Hello? Do you think you could get back to the story?” I said. This whole aside with Elyas was profoundly unnecessary.
Alex turned back into a mush-brain. “We sat side by side, and he took my hand again.” The scene she described was so cute I got lost in her yearning.
“Then,” she said, smiling, “we gazed deep into each other’s eyes and then . . . and then . . . he kissed me.”
Elyas and I exhaled in unison with relief. We’d have high-fived each other, except the moment didn’t seem right. “He’s a crazy-good kisser, Emely!” Alex continued. I rested my chin on my hand and smiled.
“But it gets better,” Alex said.
“Better?” I asked.
“Yes.” She sighed. “We talked for a long time, and he confessed he’s head over heels in love with me and said he doesn’t want to rush anything because he’s serious about me.”
I hung on Alex’s every word, probably with as silly a grin on my face as hers.
“Eventually we got too cold and drove home,” she said.
“Hey—you’re leaving out a few details there!” I pointed out.
“Geez!” Elyas said. “Women are so indiscreet!”
“As though men are any different,” I replied.
“They are! You go into way more detail. Plus, I have no desire to hear how the sex was between my little sister and my best friend,” he said.
“No one’s forcing you to be here,” I said.
“Hello? May I continue my story?” Alex said, interrupting us. “We didn’t have sex!”
“No?” Elyas asked. He and I exchanged looks.
“No,” she whispered. I wrinkled my forehead. Considering nothing had gone on between them, Alex seemed way too happy. “We lay in his bed together, just cuddling and talking all night.”
“Just cuddling and talking?” I repeated. If it was true—I’m sure every freaking woman on earth would agree with me—Alex had found herself the perfect guy.
She nodded.
“How cute,” I said, cocking my head to the side as though I were a golden retriever.
She nodded again and smiled.
“Now we just need to find someone for you,” she said quickly, and I grimaced.
“People with little pink hearts for irises are always trying to infect everyone else with their disgusting disease,” I said with a smirk.
“Why are you still here?” Alex said. “By the way.” Her eyes shifted first to me and then to Elyas, whose lips had formed a one-sided smile.
“I,” I began, drawing her attention away from his smile, “am still here because we stayed up until three in the morning, holed up in Elyas’s room for fear of disturbing you and Sebastian!”
“Oh . . . ,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s right. You might have let us know you were leaving so I could have spared myself a night with your irritating brother.”
“Ouch! Now she’s pretending she didn’t like it,” Elyas said, smirking.
“Now she’s pretending she didn’t like what?” Alex asked, looking back at me.
“Not what you think,” I said. “We just talked.”
“Just talked?” she repeated. She appeared more surprised by that answer than any other I might have given.
“Yes,” Elyas sighed. “We need a little more practice with the cuddling thing. Emely is still a little shy, you see.”
“I’d watch what I say if I were you,” I said, glaring at him. “Think of your ribs.”
“Do you want to see what you did?” he asked. He didn’t wait for me to answer, instead pulling up his T-shirt.
Elyas drew my attention from his abs when he pointed at a huge black-and-blue bruise.
Cherry Red Summer (Emely and Elyas Book 1) Page 24