Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“So,” he said, leaning back with an easy smile, “catch me up. How’s life been treating you?”
We fell into conversation about our careers, our families, the small updates that accumulate over two years of minimal contact. Eli had done well in Michigan—a promotion, a nice apartment, a solid group of friends before he’d been offered a job here in Manhattan with a salary he couldn’t refuse. He asked about Miles and Hazel, about my mom’s health, about whether I was still working in the same field.
I answered on autopilot, saying all the right things, and asking the appropriate follow-up questions. But as the minutes ticked by, I realized something I never would have predicted: I was bored.
Not that Eli was boring, exactly. He was pleasant company. Thoughtful, polite, genuinely interested in what I had to say. These were qualities that had drawn me to him in the first place along with the things we’d had in common.
But there was no spark. No undercurrent of tension, no moments where my breath caught or my pulse quickened. The connection we’d once shared had faded into something pale and distant.
I thought about Simon—his intensity, his sharp edges, the way a single look from him could make my entire body flush with heat. Being with my grumpy, complicated boss was infinitely more exciting than this polite conversation with a perfectly nice man.
The realization didn’t make me sad. It just confirmed what I’d already known: Eli and I had run our course a long time ago.
“I’m glad to hear Miles and Hazel are still together,” Eli said after taking a drink of his coffee. “Though I’m a little surprised they aren’t married by now.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll happen eventually. They’re crazy about each other, but Miles wants to wait until he’s ready to step back from hockey. Getting married often leads to starting a family, and he’s not ready to divide his focus like that yet.”
“Makes sense. Professional athletes have a narrow window.” Eli nodded thoughtfully, then his expression shifted, something more vulnerable flickering across his features. “You know, I’ve often wondered where our relationship would be now if I hadn’t moved to Detroit.”
The conversation was veering into dangerous territory and I kept my voice light, noncommittal. “It’s impossible to know.”
He met and held my gaze. “I never got over you, you know.”
I fought to keep my face neutral, suppressing the urge to cringe. I didn’t want to hurt him—Eli was a good person, and he didn’t deserve that—but this was the last thing I’d expected to hear.
He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “Now that I’m back, I’d love to give us another chance.”
My mouth fell open in shock. We’d barely had contact after he moved away. A few texts here and there, a “happy birthday” message once a year, but nothing substantial. I’d always assumed he’d moved on long ago. Found someone new and built a life in Michigan that didn’t include me.
It had been hard when Eli left, but I’d gotten over him. Time had a way of dulling those edges. And if I was being honest with myself, truly honest, I would have gone with him to Detroit if I’d really loved him enough.
I hadn’t. And I didn’t now.
“I’m sorry, Eli,” I said gently, sliding my hand out from under his. “I’m seeing someone.”
Simon and I still hadn’t put a label on what we were, but it didn’t matter. There was no one else I wanted. No one else who made me feel the way Simon did.
Eli’s brows rose with surprise. “You are? Who?”
“Me.”
I jolted at the sound of Simon’s deep voice, my heart leaping into my throat. I’d been so focused on Eli’s unexpected confession that I hadn’t noticed him approaching our table. But there he stood, tall and imposing, his expression more than a little territorial as he glared at Eli with barely concealed hostility.
Eli’s eyes went wide, darting between us as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Simon didn’t wait for an invitation. He pulled out the chair beside me, scooted it close enough that our thighs pressed together, and draped an arm over the back of my seat. There was nothing subtle about the way his hand curled around my shoulder, or the challenge blazing in his eyes as he stared Eli down.
Oh, my God. He was staking a claim. Being a possessive caveman about it, really.
I should have been annoyed. Instead, I found it amusing. And, if I was being honest, more than a little arousing. It was amazing how one small gesture from Simon could affect me so deeply, could make heat pool low in my belly and my pulse skip erratically.
“Uh, Eli, this is my—” I’d been about to say boss because we didn’t have a girlfriend/boyfriend label on whatever we were doing, but I caught myself just in time. That would raise all kinds of questions I didn’t want to answer. “This is Simon.”