Page 54 of Another Story

“What are we doing?” I ask, my brain going fuzzy when she pulls her tank top over her head to reveal her sports bra. Shedoesn’t say anything, and I shrug, pulling my own shoes off before yanking off my shirt.

I catch sight of her stepping down the rocks toward the water, and I pull off my shorts before following her down.

“Be careful,” I call out, wondering if I should warn myself of the same. Because what could happen with a woman like Eloise? One who’s afraid to be seen with me? One who hasn’t even been in my bed, let alone in my life in any real way.

But when she enters the water and glances back at me with a come-hither smile, I leave caution to the wind.

Fuck careful.

Is it fun if someone gets hurt?

Her question rings back at me as I enter the water behind her, not bothered by its slight chill.

She’d only ever worried about putting her heart on the line, but the farther I get into the water, the more I wonder if I’m falling for a siren, doomed to be destroyed by her.

The edges of her hair pool out around her and she stands in the water, looking at the waterfall.

When I stand beside her, she starts to speak.

“This place is called Diana’s Pool. Some people say her heart was broken by her lover and she jumped to her death from the top of the waterfall. Others say that she filled the river with the tears she cried and drowned.”

“Are you worried I’m going to break your heart?” I ask, a slightly humorous tone in my question. But the question is one I already know the answer to.

“I won’t jump off a cliff if you do,” she starts before peering up at me. “But I may push you off one.”

I bark out a laugh, catching sight of her own smirk. Yes, this part of Eloise is one I’ve already learned to love.

“Where did you come from?” she asks once I’ve stopped laughing, reaching out to brush her hair from her face.

“As in, where was I born?” It reminds me that while I’m trying to piece together who she is, I have to share who I am as well.

“As in, are you the asshole I once thought you were? And if so, how did you manage to get me to alter my opinion of you?”

So many thoughts flood my mind as I try to make sense of how to answer her. Pleasure over her opinion of me changing, hating that she ever thought I was an asshole. Finally, with my hand dropping back to my side, I settle on my answer.

“I let you see something very few have.”

“And what’s that?”

This question is easy to answer.

“Me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

IMPOSSIBLE

ELOISE

Subtle shifts are oftenhard to place.

One moment you have all the power and the next, you’re wavering in the balance between.

I can pinpoint each moment I gave a fraction of my power to Ezra. The obvious answer would be the night we met, when I let him touch me in the place that I hold most sacred. But I’m not convinced of that.

The first moment I gave him a part of me was the next time I saw him. I couldn’t hide my reaction to him, couldn’t deny that he’d affected me, and my anger made it obvious. A win for Ezra.

Every moment after was a crack in my defenses, a chip at my armor, if you will.

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