Page 156 of Becoming Selfish

I nod my head as Eli kisses my tattoo, just as he always does, but now that I’m aware of what it means to him, the butterflies in my stomach flutter more than they usually do.

“I love you too,” I tell him, causing him to smile against my skin.

Climbing off his lap, I gather a few things, packing an overnight bag. I slip off my shorts, replacing them with leggings before throwing on a pair of running shoes. I honestly don’t care what I wear tonight. It won’t be staying on for long anyway.

“I didn’t know you printed this out.” Eli holds up the newest addition to my framed photos. It’s the one of the two of us with Marc and Ali after his game when I met his parents for the first time.

“Yeah, I just added that one,” I tell him as he sets it back down next to the other two prints on my bookshelf.

“I love this one of us,” he says, pointing at the next one, my favorite picture— the one of Eli and I after that same game. “But we need more pictures together. I need to fill my phone up with your pretty face for when I’m out on the road,” he adds, making me smile.

“And these are your parents, right?” He points to the third photo on my shelf.

“Mmm-hmm,” I confirm.

“We’ve never really talked about your mom. What was she like?” he asks with sincere curiosity as he looks at the photo, causing me to pause.

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

Eli snaps his head around to look at me, his expression concerned. “Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up. We don’t have to talk about her.” He bounds over to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me into him. My body melts into his touch as he strokes my back with his large hands.

“We don’t have to discuss anything you’re not comfortable with,” my sweet man says. “But just know that if you ever do want to talk about her, I’ll happily listen.”

My mom would have absolutely adored Eli, and it’s not that I don’t want him to know about her, but I have a tough time talking about her and that time in my life. The only time I’ve mentioned her in the last eleven months since she passed was when I told Marc about her on a drunken night in Spain and when I told Eli about everything that night at the pond. I don’t know that I’ve even processed that she’s really, truly gone, but I’m definitely not going to start working through that tonight.

“Ready?” I ask, changing the subject as I swing my overnight bag over my shoulder.

“Yep.” Eli kisses my forehead, grabbing my bag from me as he does.

My fingers intertwine with Eli’s as he walks us down the hall towards the elevator. As the letters and numbers on the elevator wind down, the nerves begin to set in as I silently stare at the metal doors, waiting for them to open. When they do, they reveal my best friend on the other side.

“Hey guys,” Marc says as Eli and I exit the elevator. “Where are you going?”

“We’re gonna go stay at the house off-campus for the night,” Eli informs him as we head towards the lobby doors.

“Oh, I’ll come with you.”

“No!” Eli and I quickly interject at the same time.

“Well, damn,” Marc says, taken aback. “I didn’t really want to go anyway.”

“We just need a night alone,” Eli tries to soften our blow as he ushers me outside and towards his truck.

The nerves begin to build again on the drive over to the house as my knee involuntarily bounces while I stare out the window. The weather quickly shifted from a crisp fall day to a stormy night. The rain begins to pelt down on Eli’s truck, drowning out the music on the radio, as the windshield wipers move at their quickest pace.

“Logan.” Eli puts his hand on my bouncing leg, instantly settling it. “We don’t have to do this. There’s no rush.”

Placing my hand over his, weaving our fingers, I look at him while he keeps his eyes on the road. “I want to. I’m just nervous. But, they’re good nerves, I promise.”

One of the corners of Eli’s lips turns up. “Don’t be nervous,” he says, pulling up to the house. “It’s us. There is nothing to be nervous about when it comes to us.”

Unfortunately, the driveway is fairly far away from the front door. This big-ass house has a big-ass walkway, which I distinctly remember from the first night I was here and stuck in a storm.

“We gotta make a run for it.” Eli grabs my bag from his back seat. “Ready?” he asks with an excited glimmer in his eye.

I nod my head as a smile creeps across my lips.

“Let’s go,” he adds, opening his door the same time as I do, both of us making a dash for the house.

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