Page 77 of Dare To Live

“No more running away, Ari.” My warning is soft. “I’m not giving up without a fight this time.” It’s probably the worst thing I can say to her, but I don’t want her turning around later and accusing me of being underhand about what my intentions are.

I step away then to give her a moment to rebalance and turn to Elena.

“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to order room service for breakfast, then I’ll drive Ari back to her hotel. I’m supposed to be dining with Miles and Ivan tonight. Can we reschedule our dinner for when I’m back in the Hamptons in a couple of days?”

Elena purses her lips, and I think, for a moment, that she’s going to argue, but then her gaze shifts to Arabella, who’s toying with the belt holding her robe closed, and her eyes soften.

“Okay, we can do that.” She pushes to her feet and crosses to where Arabella is standing. “Call me later, darling.” She presses a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, then smiles at me. “Walk me out?”

I walk with her to the elevator and push the call button. “I remember when she broke up with you the first time,” she says in a low voice. “I know the reasons why it ended.” She rests a hand on my arm. “But, Eli, even though you’re both older now, you still need to talk and work things out.”

“I know.”

The doors swish open. Elena hooks a hand around my neck and pulls my head down to kiss my cheek. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

I smile. “That means a lot.”

I stay where I am until the doors close, then turn to face the room. Arabella has moved to the couch and is perched on the edge, gnawing on that damned bottom lip of hers.

“What would you like for breakfast?” I cross the room to where the hotel phone sits. There’s a menu beside it. I pick it up and toss it onto her lap. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Do you want to order while I get cleaned up?” I walk to the bedroom door, then stop and turn. “Ari?”

Her head lifts, and she twists to look at me.

“If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind not disappearing while I’m in the shower?” I smile at her scowl. “I’m serious. We’ll eat, and then I’ll drive you back to your hotel room, I promise.”

I don’t wait for her reply and pull the bedroom door closed behind me.

***

I shower, shave … Well, tidy up the growth coating my jaw … and dress in a pair of black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. My feet are bare and I’m still rubbing my hair with a towel when I go through to the living room. I half-expect it to be empty, but I’m greeted by a serving cart, loaded with food and a carafe of coffee. Arabella is curled up at one end of the couch, nibbling on a croissant. I can’t stop the wide smile that stretches my lips when I see her.

She pauses, flakes of pastry coating her lips, and frowns at me. I rein in the desire to cross the room and lick them off her mouth and, instead, turn my attention to the platters of food. I lift the lids off various plates until I locate the bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast, load up a plate, pour myself a coffee and take the seat on the opposite end of the couch.

“I’m supposed to be meeting Miles for dinner tonight. Will you come with me?”

“You were serious about dinner?”

“Absolutely.” I take a sip of coffee and eye her over the rim. “I don’t have any toys, though. If that’s a dealbreaker, we can always go shopping first.”

She chokes on her croissant. I fight to keep my expression blank.

“Although, I’m not sure how Miles would feel about watching his best friend come all over the table, so maybe we should work up to that.”

“I’m not … you’re not …” she splutters.

I let the laugh break free. “I’m just teasing. We’ll go for dinner, without toys. You can even wear underwear and I won’t complain … too loudly.”

She gapes at me.

“Ivan has a business proposal he wants to present to me,” I explain into the silence. “I told Miles I’d hear him out.” I roll the mug across my lips. “We’ve never been out as a couple before. I think it’s past due, don’t you?”

“We’re not a couple.”

You’re moving too fast. Kellan’s voice cautions.

I don’t let anything show on my face. Hearing that my dead friend pops by to give me unsolicited advice occasionally would make me sound crazy and send her running.

“A couple of friends,” I amend smoothly.

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