Page 71 of Lessons with the Mothman

"Victoria," Elias said as I debated whether to hold the door open or turn my back on him without a word.

No. No, he deserved a few words.

He didn't flinch when I grabbed his arm but let me drag him down the sidewalk and into a too fragrant alley a few doors down.

"I just wanted to see you," Elias said, eyes wide and innocent, still holding that tray of coffees.

For a little flicker of a moment, I wondered what he'd ordered me.

"I wasn't thinking," he continued, voice too gentle for my temper.

"Yes, you were," I said.

He blinked at me. "I?—"

"Elias. You were thinking. You arealwaysthinking, planning, writing a script in your head for the rest of us to follow."

He straightened and frowned, glancing down the alleyway and out to the sidewalk in confusion. "I understand that that was the wrong time to introduce myself to your family. It interrupted Emma's time. I'm genuinely sorry."

He was. And he should be. And it was a solid chunk of why I was angry, but not all of it.

"Elias, look at me," I snapped. His brow furrowed—insulted, no doubt—but he did so. "You are not my boyfriend."

"Victoria—"

"You are not my boyfriend. You are trying to play a role, but this one requires a fucking invitation!"

He stepped back, eyes wide.

"Showing up at my work, insinuating yourself into a significant moment for my family? What the fuck, Elias?"

His mouth hung open for a moment, gaze vacant.

"Sending the flowers, trying to see me every day," I continued to list off.

"You object to seeing me?" he asked, his own tone sharpening.

"I object to you trying to force a romance between us!" I cried out. "Out of, what, thin air? You are assisting my research, and we arefucking. That isall."

I'd never really been that interested in theater, but I knew what I was seeing as Elias's expression smoothed and softened, then a perfect, gentle smile rounded his lips. He reached his free hand up to my cheek, and a sliver of a shiver traced through me, proving that the lines I'd drawn around us weren'tquiteright.

"I love you, Victoria," he said, husky and heavy and yearning.

Oh. Ithurtto hear those words, so sweet, so carefully injected with all the meaning of the words. My cheek leaned into his palm, and I refused the sting in my eyes.

I sighed and Elias smiled, thinking he'd won.

"Elias, do you even know when you're lying?"

He stiffened, and his hand drew back. I lifted my head and waited a moment. Was I giving him room to object, or to let it sink in?

"This is not a game. You can't just decide to love, and have it be true," I said.

His hand dropped to his side, and his chin hiked up higher, staring over my head.

"I will do the interview with Otis alone. If you feel unable to continue working with me, I understand. Just please don't?—"

"I would never risk your study," Elias rasped, staring out at the sidewalk.

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