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Struggle to Forever: a friends to lovers duet

Page 59

by Lilliana Anderson

“You will have to get a handle on that yelling.” I chuckle, knowing that anyone else in the flat has full knowledge of what just went on in here.

  “If you want me to stop yelling, you’ll need to stop making me come.” She giggles, nipping her teeth against my chin.

  “I don’t want that,” I say, bringing our lips together and sliding my tongue over hers as I explore her mouth once more, trying to squash the nagging thought in my mind reminding me that each kiss is one less I’ll get before I have to go home. Just ask her.

  We laugh into each other’s mouths as my stomach growls loudly. “I think it’s time for you to eat, big boy,” she murmurs against me smiling. I get up, kissing her on the forehead and pull on my jeans from last night. I was sure to unlatch the door and collect all of our clothes from the entryway. So besides skipping out on the party, there shouldn’t be too much for anyone to be annoyed about—besides the noise we just made....

  I open my wardrobe and pull out a warm jumper, looking over as I see Paige watching me.

  “Shame the weather isn’t warmer,” she comments.

  “Oh, yeah?” I say pulling her out of bed and hugging her to me. She slides her hands up under my clothes and over my chest.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind watching you walk around without a shirt on all day,” she purrs, kissing me on my neck.

  I laugh and kiss her forehead again. “Well, I would prefer that you just walked around naked all day, but I wouldn’t be happy with the other guys ogling your body, so cover-up and come and have breakfast with me.”

  Paige

  “Fine,” I grumble, half in jest, half serious. Elliot watches as I pull on a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved forest green dress that has a fitted bodice and flows down to my knees. He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “What?” I say laughing at his expression. He looks concerned.

  “You just look…”

  “I just look what?”

  “Busty.”

  I laugh. “Busty?” I look down at the neckline of my dress. It's a simple V that admittedly, shows off my cleavage. I’m a C cup. It’s not like they’re double D’s flowing all over the place. “And that’s a problem, why?”

  He steps towards me and runs his hands down the curve of my body and rests his hands on my hips. “It’s a problem because I don’t want any of the guys out there looking at you and thinking the same things I do.”

  “Elliot, they’ve seen me in sexier things than this.”

  “Yeah, and each time they make comments about you that really piss me off,” he points out.

  Tilting my head to the side, I sigh as I look at him in all of his constant gorgeousness. “Elliot, it doesn’t matter what you wear, you turn every woman’s head that you pass. If I can cope with that, you can cope with me wearing a dress that shows a little cleavage.”

  He lets out his breath. “Fine,” he says, as I move away from him and open the door.

  When we walk out to the living area, Naomi and Gavin are sitting on the floor either side of the coffee table playing a game of cards.

  “Morning,” I say.

  “Morning lovebirds. Sounds like you two were having fun this morning,” Gavin comments, grinning wildly. Naomi looks from me to Elliot and gives us an amused smile.

  “We missed you two at the party last night,” she says.

  “We were there,” Elliot replies.

  Gavin and Naomi laugh. “Yeah for two seconds,” Gavin points out.

  Elliot tilts his head and shrugs his shoulders a little. “Well, the flat was lonely. We came back to keep it company.”

  “Yeah, whatever man,” Gavin laughs. “You missed a fun party though. Shane got totally hammered and started dancing on the tables. It was so funny.”

  “Ah well, sorry we missed it. Where’s Brian?” asks Elliot.

  “He’s gone to pick up the new girl from the airport. Jolene, I think her name is,” Naomi answers.

  “Is he in Shane’s car?” I ask. I meant to ask Shane what he was doing with it before he left.

  “Yeah, Shane said he can use it until it sells,” Gavin informs me.

  “How much does he want for it?” I ask.

  “Couple of grand. Talk to Brian if you’re interested.”

  “I will, thanks,” I say as I go into the kitchen and slide bread for Elliot and I into the toaster.

  He follows me in, collects two cups to prepare our instant coffee. “Are you thinking of buying a car?”

  “Yeah. It’d be handy don’t you think? We could take a drive to the country, see some other parts of the UK. Besides, I can’t stay here forever. After you go home, I think I should find somewhere on my own.”

  Elliot

  After you go home. The words echo in my ears and constrict my chest. I don’t want to go, and the fact she’s making plans regarding what she’s going to do when I leave bothers me.

  “Where will you live?” I ask, trying to keep my aggravation out of my voice.

  She shrugs as she concentrates on buttering our toast. “I haven’t decided yet,” she replies, turning slightly to look at me. When she sees my face, she does a double take, sighs and turns to face me.

  “You’re annoyed,” she states.

  “I’m fine,” I say, totally not meaning it.

  She takes a step toward me and places her hands on my chest, leaning into me as she speaks quietly. “Don’t make this harder than it already is. We both knew we only had a short time together.”

  “I know, but—”

  “How about we don’t talk about what happens when you leave? We can deal with it when the time comes.” But I want you to come back with me…

  I sigh and wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her hair. I have three weeks and two days left. I've never felt so powerless over my own destiny before. Not even when my father made me choose between Katrina and his financial support. Back then, that seemed horrible, and although I probably made the wrong choice at the time, I still had one. This time, I have to go home. I have to leave her, or I risk not being allowed to come back.

  Twenty-Two

  Paige

  After breakfast, Elliot excuses himself to go and have a shower. I can tell he’s still a little upset with me for mentioning my plans for when he goes home. I guess that was a little insensitive of me. I’m happy to leave the subject alone, but we can’t pretend like it isn’t going to happen. He needs to leave, and I need to stay.

  Knocking on the bathroom door, I call to him that I’m going out for a while. I don’t wait to hear his response, but the others know I’m leaving so they can tell him for me.

  I’ve told them all that I’ll pick up some milk while I’m out. But, my true reason for going is to take some time to think on my own. I feel so guilty about what’s happening between Elliot and me. He’s so beautiful and kind, and I seriously wonder why in the world, he would choose me. Was it just that I was there when he was looking, or was it some higher power that pushes people together and takes away their good sense and reasoning?

  My stomach churns as I think about him leaving because let’s face it, I’m falling for him—hard. All we have left in this world is three more perfect weeks together, and it’s more than I could hope for. Long term, there’s simply no way we could make it. Once I tell him everything about my past, it would be virtually impossible for him to look at me the same way he does now. As much as I’d like to keep it all a secret, I can’t. I mean, things would be fine for a while but eventually my secrets would push him away. I just can’t pin all of my hopes on him.

  I find a bench to sit on and scroll through the messages on my phone. There are at least ten notifications telling me I have voice messages waiting. I know they’re from my parents, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to listen to them. Their ever-increasing number keeps staring at me though, taunting my curiosity.

  I select one and my thumb hovers over the screen, just above the voicemail number. Nerves and foreboding fill my body, and I can’t seem to force myself
to touch the button to make the call.

  I don’t think you should listen, Phoenix says.

  What if they can help me understand?

  What’s to understand? They left you in the streets to rot.

  Blowing out my breath, I squeeze the emotion from my eyes and hit the home button, selecting my gallery instead. I tap the most recent photo I have of Elliot and me on the train when we were riding to Shane’s party last night. I touch his face on the screen and flick to the next one. It’s the one of us kissing outside the cemetery on that ghost walk he took me on.

  Deciding to focus on Elliot and deal with my family issues another time, I delete my voicemail notifications and place my phone back in my bag on a sigh.

  “I can do this,” I say to myself, tucking my fingers beneath the collar on my dress as I rise from the bench, stroking Phoenix for comfort.

  You’re happy with him, she says.

  Yes. He makes me very happy.

  Will you keep him?

  No. I can’t. Once he finds out about you, he’ll hate me.

  I don’t hate you.

  You should.

  Elliot

  Paige has been gone for ages, and I’m getting worried. Our new housemate, Jolene, has been here for nearly an hour already, and she’s still not back from getting milk.

  Fingering my phone in my pocket, I contemplate sending her a text or calling. I don’t want to seem overbearing, but my protectiveness is warring with my mind. An hour away feels too long when she’s the only reason my body allows me to take a breath.

  “I’m sure I’ve met you before,” Jolene says from beside me on the floor, placing her hand on my arm and giving it a squeeze. She's a Bondi girl; same as me. “What high school did you go to? Rose Bay?”

  I shake my head. “Sydney Grammar.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Oh, my God. Do you know Brad? Rae, I think his last name is. He’s a chef now.”

  “I know Brad,” I say, he was on the same squad as me during my kayaking days. I probably have met her before, but she would have been like every other girl I knew back then and overlooked me because of my weight. I was a big guy.

  “I used to date Brad.” She keeps touching me on the arm, and I can see Naomi giving me a sympathetic smile. She knows me well enough now to read my discomfort levels.

  “Gee,” she says. “I wonder where Paige is with the milk for coffee. She should be back by now.”

  “Who’s Paige?” Jolene asks, looking between us. Why is her hand still on my arm?

  “Elliot’s girlfriend,” Brian says, a smug look on his face as Jolene’s eyes go wide.

  “Speak of the devil,” Gavin says, grinning as the front door opens and I jump to my feet. Thank god, she’s back.

  Paige

  As soon as I open the door, I see everyone sitting on the floor talking around the coffee table. What’s the deal with the floor today? Is there a broken spring on the couch or something? Then I notice the new girl—Jocelyn, or something—paying a lot of attention to Elliot; as in, her hand is on his arm.

  Gavin announces my arrival then suddenly Elliot’s on his feet and that girl is holding her hand in the air like a balloon just popped in her grip. What the fuck is going on?

  My chest hurts, and I feel immediately sick. I was just out agonising over my feelings, and he’s back here flirting with the new girl?

  “Having fun?” I ask straight away, accusation in my tone. The new girl gets up and follows him over.

  “Hi, I’m Jolene. You must be Paige,” she says, holding her hand out to shake mine. I look at it for a moment before I decide to give it a quick shake. She looks at me with uncertainty. “Um, Elliot and I were just catching up; turns out we have a mutual acquaintance.”

  “I see.” I set my jaw, place the milk in the fridge then walk to my room, locking the door behind me. Maybe I can’t do this.

  Elliot

  What the hell just happened?

  For a moment, I’m standing there dumbfounded. She seems pissed. She was short with Jolene and didn’t even say hi to anyone else. Something is obviously wrong.

  I glance at Jolene, who’s looking around the room awkwardly. “I need to go and see what’s wrong with her,” I say.

  “Oh,” she says, seeming a little confused before it clicks. “Of course you do. She’s your girlfriend.”

  “Not just my girlfriend. She’s…my lobster.” It’s so corny to say out loud, but it makes me smile.

  “Lobster?” She frowns. “Oh! Like in Friends? I love that show. And aww.” She places her hand on her chest. “I want to be someone’s lobster.”

  “Don’t we all,” Naomi says as she enters the kitchen, rescuing me again as she grabs Jolene’s attention. “Milo, tea or coffee?”

  I leave them to their decision as I head off down the hallway to the room I share with Paige. It’s locked. “Paige,” I call through it. “Can you open the door, please?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, twisting the door handle even though it’s not moving. “Can you let me in?”

  Still without response, I press my teeth together and stalk back to the entryway to get my keys and open it myself. This is just childish fucking bullshit. As I pass the lounge room, all eyes are on me, but the look on my face must tell them I’m not in the mood for talking, because they quickly look away and pretend to be talking about something else.

  Paige

  We pushed the two beds together last night, so I’m lying across the middle of both of them, listening to Radiohead’s OK Computer, my headphones blasting the track Lucky into my ears to block out any sounds around me. I just overreacted big time. I’ve never done the jealous girlfriend thing before, although I’ve never cared so much about someone before either. In the past, the men I was with were a means to an end. I chose them for reasons other than attraction.

  When the breeze from the door opening hits me, I sit up on my elbows and pull the buds from my ears. He looks pissed.

  “Didn’t you hear me knock?”

  I shake my head as I shut the music off. “It was too loud,” I say, sliding myself up, so I am sitting on the bed against the wall.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s up?” He folds his arms, watching me intently as he waits for my response.

  “I walked in and saw you flirting with the new girl. I hated it.”

  He raises his eyebrows and then shifts his hands to his hips. “You think I was flirting with her?”

  “Uh, yeah. You were all smiling and laughing while she was touching you. Then you jumped up all guilty the second you saw me.”

  He chuckles. I'm having a jealous hissy fit, and he's chuckling at me.

  “Have you considered that I was jumping up because I was relieved you were home? You were gone for over an hour to get milk. I was worried. Jolene was going on and on in my ear, and I was trying to be polite and listen. But all I could think about was you. I jumped up because I was glad you were back and nothing bad had happened. We had literally just told her I had a girlfriend because she was the one flirting with me.”

  “I’m your girlfriend now?” I ask, feeling ridiculous at how my heart just did cartwheels through my chest when he said it.

  He climbs on the bed and kneels in front of me. “Paige, we live together; you are way more than just my girlfriend. I have zero interest in anyone but you.”

  “Why were you letting her touch you?”

  “I wasn’t. I hate girls being all over me. I find it incredibly uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah right, you hate pretty girls flirting with you and touching you?”

  “Paige, I was overweight when I was a kid, right up until my late teens. Girls like Jolene dated my friends, but they didn’t give me the time of day. When I got into sports, lost a bunch of weight and started to bulk up with muscle, suddenly these girls were looking at me like I was this new guy they’d never met before. They made their interest obvious—just like Jolene was now. I admit, I went wit
h it more than a few times—because I’m a guy, not a saint—but it was all hollow. Those girls, they didn’t like me, or we would have been dating when I was overweight. They only liked what I looked like and what being with me did for them. I’m not stupid. I know how I look, and I know I attract women, but I don’t want them. The only woman I care about touching me or flirting with me is you. Never doubt that.”

  “You were chubby?” I ask, disbelieving, trying not to smile.

  “Why are you laughing? I’m pouring my heart out here.” He laughs back.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that the image of you as a chubby kid is so adorable!”

  He pulls me toward him and rolls on top of me, biting on my neck so it tickles like hell. I’m laughing so hard that I slap at his back and yell, “Stop. Stop!”

  Slowing his mouth to a gentle kiss, he pulls away and looks down into my face as he holds himself over me.

  “Can I tell you something?” I ask, touching his face.

  “Anything,” he replies.

  “I haven’t had a man in my life for six years.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Six years?”

  “I didn’t think I could care about anyone again.” I didn’t think I could ever trust a man again either.

  A smile spreads over his mouth as he leans closer, lowering his voice to a low deep gravel that hums through my body when he speaks. “You care about me?”

  “Very much,” I whisper. I care so much that I'm riddled with guilt over my deception. He deserves the truth, and he'll get it. But I need more time. We only have a few weeks. When his mouth meets mine, my body responds immediately, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, writhing against him, pushing away the voices fighting over keeping him and chasing him away

  Breaking away for a moment, he looks down at me, eyes sparkling. “That was some trick you showed me this morning,” he growls, pressing his erection against me, nipping me on my neck and driving me wild.

 

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