Page 24


I rush at the wall and push the button as many times as I can but the elevator is gone. I run for the stairs, leaping them like a gazelle. I just miss the door closing when I reach the lobby but she isn’t there. She didn’t get off. I look up and try to catch my breath, "Shit."


I press the elevator button and the door opens.


She is on the floor, curled in a ball. I broke her.


I scoop her up and hold her to my chest. She doesn’t fight me. She just lies there.


I press my lips against her head and close my eyes. I can't lose her. I have to change.


I forget I'm in an elevator. All that matters is her.


The door dings at my apartment and I walk her in. I carry her to the place I think she needs.


I switch on the light and take her coat and start to undress her slowly. She looks haunted and on the verge of tears, when she whispers, "No. Please don’t."


I don’t know how to do it—how to be gentle and love her but I can try. I kiss the places I undress, tenderly and lovingly. I spend minutes pressing my face into her and just taking inhales of her skin.


I stand, hoping she can see how sorry I am. I don’t know how to say it. I am about to ask her to undress me too when she starts, as if reading my mind.


Her eyes widen when she sees them all, no one ever does. The tatts and the scars and the lash or burn marks.


Her eyes focus on the one I have for us all.


She looks scared or intimidated. Her hands run my scars and lines and tattoos. "Where did you get these scars?"


How do I tell her every mark was for her? I mutter, "I was hard on myself as a kid."


We hold each other naked in an intimate moment I never imagined having. When we get into the shower, I wash myself from her. I soap up a facecloth and wash every inch of her body, slowly. She is so clean and soft. I love that our life never ruined her. I am ruined, scarred, and messy but she is pure. I never want to hurt her again.


She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the water as I clean and massage from foot to head and back down again.


"Tilt your head back," I say as I pour on a little shampoo. It barely does the front of her head. I frown and dump a bunch more into my hand. I finally get a lather and spend a few minutes just massaging her head. She tilts her head into the water and smiles, "What are you doing?"


I shake my head, "I don’t know."


She laughs. I don’t know why.


"Do you have conditioner?"


I look around at the things I have and shake my head again, "No."


The grin on her lips grows, "Great. You know what long hair is like without conditioner?"


I wince, "Oh."


She starts to laugh and I am praying the water has washed away some of the bad things from before.


I lean my face into the water and whisper into her ear, "I'm sorry if I hurt you."


She leans her face into mine, "I know."


I wrap around her and look up at the tiled ceiling reverently. I wonder if he can hear me begging him for help.


When we get out, I dry her. She shakes her head and takes the towel, insisting on drying me. She does a crap job but I'm so exhausted and stressed I don’t care.


We stagger into my real room and collapse on my real bed. She is the first girl to ever grace the sheets of it.


I want her to be the last. I want her. I need her. I just don’t know how to keep her with me, on her terms.


I reach over and pull her into my arms, holding her tight. Only when I'm sure she's staying, can I close my eyes.


I wake up to her staring at me. I mutter, "Go to sleep."


She shakes her head "I can't. Someone got me all worked up and now I'm kind of buzzing."


A grin accidentally takes over my face when I answer her, "You came. In case you forgot."


She laughs, "I forgot. I think you should remind me how it felt, jog my memory."


I shake my head, "I think I like you how you are now." I open my eyes fully and look at her, "Do you want me?"


She hesitates and nods but I want to hear her say it. I just want her to tell me she wants me. "What do you say?"


She doesn’t find my joke funny. She leaps out of the bed and storms into my closet. I don’t know what game we're playing but I'm in. I want her so bad I can't stand it. Thankfully, she never noticed the raging erection I was hiding in our snuggle.


She comes out of the closet, dressed in my jogging clothes.


I don’t get it. She must still be angry with me for the spanking. I bite my lip and watch her start to fiddle with her hair. "Where are you going? In my clothes?"


She shrugs, "You won't miss them. You don’t wear anything but Armani. I'm pretty sure these are from Old Navy. You probably didn’t even know you had them."


I snort but quickly recover with a bossy demand, hoping she won't get out of the room before I get up, "Get back here."


She shakes her head, like we are playing a game and breaks into a run.


I'm up and out of the bed, springing naked with an erection. I scoop up my boxers from the pile of clean clothes on my bureau and hop into them as I run after her. She gives me a grin and runs down the stairs.


"SHIT!"


I hit the elevator as I get my boxers on and leap inside pressing the M. The elevator stops on the seventh floor.


"FUCK!"


The old lady from the other day is there with that same dog and the same shitty look. She shakes her head at me. I shrug and push the close door button. When I get to the lobby, in my underwear, she is crossing the foyer and leaving, fully dressed.


"Sarah!" I shout, chasing after her.


She looks back at me and waves, "Goodbye, Eli. It was nice seeing you again."


Her words have to travel through the snow I suddenly notice.


I shake my head, desperate for her to stay with me and give me a second chance, "Wait for me. Give me one minute. Please." I sprint back to the lobby but have to take the elevator. I don’t have keys.


I run in and down the hallway. I glance into the metal door when I pass it. Something is glowing in the dark. I back up and go inside, grabbing her phone from the bed.


The open conversation with Sebastian makes my heart sink.


She sent, 'Meet me tomorrow at my dorm. I won't have this number anymore.'


He answered her right away like he was waiting for it, 'You sure?'


I drop the phone onto the bed when I see her answer, 'I need you to help me become the girl I want to be. 8pm my dorm. Goodnight.'


He has messaged her other things but I don’t read them. I don’t need to. I need to change her mind. I run to my closet and grab some of my boxing clothes and race back down the stairs to her.


I'm terrified when I round the corner from the front door but she's there.


She grins, "I like casual, Eli. I mean don’t get me wrong, I like the suits and dress pants and groomed thing you have going on, but this is nice too."


The words of her text message are eating at me. I don’t know how to win her or be cool. I just ask the thing I'm wondering, "What are you doing?"


She shrugs, "I want pancakes."


I blurt, "I'll make you pancakes."


She laughs and turns around to walk backwards, "I don’t want your pancakes. I want normal pancakes. Not head-game pancakes. Not maybe I'll make you happy or maybe I'll scare the shit out of you. You know?"


She is killing me inside. I hate being laughed at and I hate being manipulated. I start to actually wonder if Jane has gotten to her, "You're awfully playful and free suddenly. Where is the girl from the elevator?"


She flinches and stuffs her hands in her pockets, "She's in here. I think there are a few of us in here. Besides, I'm on to you. I see your ploy."


I laugh; if she did know it she would surely laugh. I am the most unlovable person we know, including Jane. I nod, "Ha. You think you do."


I almost tell her that if she could just let me try to be good enough for her, I would never stop trying. But the words get caught behind the lump in my throat. I tilt my head back and smile when I see the snow falling. I stick my tongue out, out of habit and change the subject when I catch a snowflake, "When I was a kid, I used to do this all the time. My dad would take us to our cabin in Aspen and I would do anything to not be with them. When Emalyn was gone they canceled their divorce. They stayed together, hating each other and drinking. I would stand out on the deck and catch snow flakes till I was nearly frozen solid."


She doesn’t talk and I don’t know how to say anything beyond I am sorry I am not good. Not a good person and not good enough and not good at making love. Fucking I have down pat.


Her hands jerk my head down and she attacks in a way I never expected. Her mouth slides against mine and the wetness from the snow. Our tongues are hot compared to the cold air. She starts doing the thing she does where she climbs up my body. My erection is back, instantly. I lift her and spin us both so I can hold her against the wall. We writhe against each other and kiss until I can't breathe without inhaling her too.


I moan, put her down and turn to take her back upstairs and try again.


She pulls back, "No."


I frown, "You want this."


"No, I don’t."


I smile nervously, "I can make you."


She laughs, "I want the you that tilts his head back and eats the snow. I want the you that holds me and snuggles into me. I want him but you hardly ever show him to me. I see a glimpse of him and then it's you that’s back." She points at me and I can see the disgust all over her face, "I want the sweet guy who puts his hand out for me."


All I see is the text to Sebastian. My heart aches in a way I don’t think I can fix, not alone. I feel my words get thick, "He's in here too. I think there are a few of us." I let her hand go, and walk away. I send a text to Stuart when I get in the elevator, 'She is walking back to dorms from my place. Go find her please. She won't see me.'


He responds quickly, 'KK'