Page 62 of What It Means To Be Found

“But,” Eloise swallowed, “Please don’t do that if it hurts too much.”

I hesitated before I continued leisurely brushing my thumb against her cheek, Why?

“…I will never ask you to use your voice, Logan.” Eloise’s fingers gently traced up the back of my neck, into the roots of my hair. Goosebumps erupted on my skin from her touch, “Again, I am honored to know what you sound like,” Eloise smiled, “But your voice is yours. Hearing you speak was a privilege, and nothing more.” Eloise brushed her nose against mine, and I felt something in my chest squeeze at the contact. “I was able to find the kind, gentle man beneath this moody exterior, regardless.”

I grinned before pressing my lips against hers for no other reason than I simply couldn’t hold back any longer. She met my kisses with enthusiasm, but it wasn’t frantic like how we were in the bookstore. No, this moment was one I hadn’t experienced before. It was vulnerable. It was emotional. The kisses we exchanged illustrated the trust we now had between each other, and nothing more.

It took a while for us to get here, to this limbo of a relationship where she and I still hadn’t discussed what we were to each other beyond lover and tutor. While I tasted Eloise's lips as if I had all the time in the world, I realized how worth it the journey was. How much I could kick myself for fucking up so royally the first time we met, but that I was willing to do what it took to even find ourselves here, in this moment.

This feisty woman who covered herself in flower tattoos for no other reason than she liked flowers.

This brilliant woman who could hold a grudge for however long she deemed necessary.

This beautiful woman who could make me feel like the luckiest man alive for simply having the honor to share these quiet kisses with her in the comfort of my bed, and nothing more.

I let myself fully come to the realization then.

I truly wanted Eloise Bane.

17

LOGAN

“She’s at home, she’s not feeling well,” Courtney shrugged, taking a sip from her martini as she smiled at Taylor trying to shoot their shot with a guy on the other end of the bar top. A few nights later we all found ourselves at a new bar in downtown Dana Point. The bar was owned by someone Taylor had casually dated a few years ago, and they stayed friends even when the romance in their relationship fizzled out. Taylor asked all of us to show up to opening night to help support the small business.

I had met up with everyone at the bar after an annoying meeting with John and Connor. The meeting went like every other meeting. Because the scandalous pictures of the team had taken off on the internet, and resulted in a huge surge in presale tickets to the upcoming seasons games, Connor wanted to lean further into the sexualizing of the players.

John was all for it. He was body positive and did not care if people ogled what he worked so hard for.

I realized that I also didn’t care too much about showing off my body, but I loved telling Connor “no” much more.

Because fuck Connor.

I wasn’t his biggest fan before I knew that he slept with Eloise, but for some stupid reason, he irritated me even more now. How dare he touch Eloise and make her react the way she did? How dare he just not care about her reaction at all? Any moron could pay attention and notice when a woman wasn’t into something he was doing. To see her shut down and lose enthusiasm for sex. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Connor going through with everything, even when Eloise clearly wasn’t enjoying herself, aggravated me. It showed how little he cared about Eloise as a person. The fact that he was willing to see the night through even though her head was clearly somewhere else was disgusting.

Part of me was mature enough to understand that part of this was good old-fashioned jealousy. The thought of someone like Connor being with Eloise that way made me want to rage. To shield Eloise behind my body, never to have his eyes land on her again, and shout “mine” in his face.

I also remembered what I had learned from another one of Eloise’s romance novels that I finished the previous night, how what I was experiencing was best described as “alphahole” behavior. Possessive, controlling, toxic. Eloise’s review online played through my mind, “…I’m going through an alphahole phase. If a real man had the audacity to act like this, I would dump his ass. But for some reason, in these books, it’s hot as hell…”

Eventually, I’d need to tell Eloise that I stole Courtney’s book. Part of me thought Eloise might even appreciate the fact that I was reading a lot of her favorite books, as long as she was able to get past the part that I stole from her. Yeah, I’d need to tell her sooner than later.

…Just not yet.

I remembered to tune back into the conversation I was having with Courtney. She had just answered my question, after all. I felt my face pinch before I made myself relax the muscles as I expressed my curiosity, Is Eloise okay?

Courtney’s brown eyes slid over to me, something in them that made me hold my breath until she responded, “She’s on her period.”

I nodded, my shoulders relaxing the slightest bit. I didn’t even know that they were tense until she answered my question. Eloise was fine; women got their periods all the time. It wasn’t like she was sick or anything.

“I actually feel awful for her,” Beck spoke up from my other side, leaning around me to make eye contact with Courtney. “She looked miserable when we picked you up tonight.”

I felt a frown form on my lips as I listened to Beck’s words.

“Yeah,” Courtney shrugged, “Yesterday she was pretty functional, but today she’s either been in bed or on the couch.” Wait, what? “I thought I heard her throw up this morning.”

What the fuck? Because of her period? Were they sure that she didn’t have the flu or something?

Are periods really that bad? I signed my question to the two women on either side of me, and they both exchanged a knowing look before Beck simply said, “Yes.” And Courtney added, “They can be.”

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