Page 118 of Becoming Selfish

My tear-filled eyes widen in shock. That was the last thing I expected Eli to say. When I walked in here, I assumed he wanted nothing to do with me tonight, and now his sad words are like arrows to my heart. I’ve never seen him like this before, and quite honestly, I never thought I would.

“I’m sorry,” he cries into my arms.

I don’t know what to say. I’m not going to say, ‘it’s okay’ because it’s not. But, also, I’m not going to try to prove a point while Eli is breaking down.

Instead of responding, I place a couple of kisses on his back because I want him to know I’m listening even though I don’t know what to say.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Eli says on a suck of air as he tries to catch his breath. He turns his head and body into mine as he finds the crook of my neck, hiding his face. I wrap his arms around his shoulders, keeping him close to me.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, baby.” I gently run my palm over his tattooed arm, trying to soothe him.

I know that Eli has a hard time controlling where his mind wanders, anxiety can do that, but I didn’t realize it would make him emotional too. Whatever is going on, it’s clearly consuming him.

I continue to hold his naked body in my arms while we sit on the shower floor until the hot water runs cold. Eli stopped crying a while ago, but I could just sense that he needed to stay where we were for a bit longer.

Finally, I decide it’s time to get up as I peel myself off of him. Kissing his forehead, I stand before turning off the water. I walk out of the shower, finding the nearest cabinet, hoping to find towels hidden inside. Thankfully, I do, and I grab one for myself, wrapping it around my bust as I take another out for Eli. Holding it open for him, I turn around and find him standing a few feet behind me, looking sheepish and maybe a bit embarrassed.

“Thanks, baby,” he shyly says, wrapping the towel low on his hips.

I try to keep my eyes averted from his chiseled body because I want to be respectful. And if I’m being honest, the argument we had earlier is still playing in my mind, and I feel less comfortable around him than I usually do.

I turn on my heel to leave the bathroom, but Eli’s hand gently grips my hip to stop me. He turns me around to face him before his strong arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me to his body. My hands find his lean back as I gently stroke the length of it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the crook of my neck as my eyes squeeze shut at the tone of his voice. I know he’s sincere, I can tell, but it still doesn’t erase the pit in my stomach caused by his earlier words.

He gently places his lips on my tattoo before releasing me from his hold. I file out of his bathroom as he follows closely behind.

Shuffling through my duffel bag, I find an oversized tee and a short pair of shorts. Without looking back at Eli, I head into the bathroom to change into my dry clothes, needing a moment of privacy.

As I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but think about today. I want to forget about our argument earlier, I do. I love Eli, and I know that, but one of my biggest fears is having the people I love leave me. People always leave me. Opening up to the three people in this house has been so hard for me because I feel like everyone I care for leaves me at some point. The fact that Eli threatened to do just that, especially when he didn’t mean it, that scares me. My walls were down because he broke through them, but after that argument, I can feel them coming back up.

Back in his room, I find Eli still in his towel, sitting on the edge of his bed while keeping his gaze on the ground.

“Can I tell you what happened yesterday?” he asks sheepishly, scratching at his brow with his thumb.

“Only if you want to.” I kneel on the ground and begin to reorganize my bag, trying to keep myself busy so I don’t look in Eli’s direction.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “There was a scout from the Dallas Stars at the game against Penn State.”

My head snaps in his direction as his gaze lifts off the floor to meet mine.

“I played like shit. Worst I’ve played in years. He left after the second period.” Eli keeps eye contact with me, trying to keep his expression neutral, but I can tell he’s upset.

Standing up, my shoulders slack as I look at him with sympathy. He just had a shot at his life-long dream and blew it only hours ago. No wonder he had a panic attack last night.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask as I walk over to stand between his legs.

“Because I was embarrassed.” He shyly pulls his gaze away from me, looking down towards his lap.

Pushing his wet hair from his eyes, I lift his chin, forcing him to look at me, and suddenly I’m reminded that these beautiful mocha eyes are my favorite things to look at.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me. I’m proud of you, regardless. You could be the fucking waterboy for all I care, and I would still think you’re the best.” Eli chuckles, finally giving me a smile. “I just want you to be happy.”

He nods his head in my hands as he gives me an appreciative grin.

“Is that what caused you to be so upset in the shower?”

He shakes his head. “No, that had nothing to do with hockey. But that was also really fucking embarrassing, so let’s not talk about it.”

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