Page 81 of Stick Work

But I have to.

Why?

Elias might be the picture of calm, holding it together for my sake, but he doesn’t want this. Sure, the sex has been mind-blowing and we genuinely love being around each other. We have fun. So much fun. The kind that makes me laugh until I can’t breathe, the kind that makes me forget everything else. When was the last time I felt this alive, this free?

“Ohmigod," I murmur again, and Elias shoots me a reassuring look. But what he doesn’t realize is that I’m not panicking because I hate this. I’m panicking because… maybe I don’t.

Sure, it’s unexpected—completely, utterly unexpected. My entire life, I’ve always followed the rules, done what was expected of me. I’ve lived under my brother’s watchful eye, never given a chance to be reckless, never allowed to make mistakes.

Was this a mistake?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Do I want to find out?

God help me, I think I do. I really, really think I do.

A hard gulp works its way down my throat, and before I can even reach for it, Elias cracks open the bottle of water on my tray and hands it to me. Just like that. Like it’s second nature for him to take care of me.

How am I not supposed to fall for a guy like this? Someone so thoughtful, so attuned to me, so effortlessly aware of my needs before I even voice them?

“T,” he murmurs, his brows pulling together as he studies my face. “You don’t look so great.”

I press a hand to my stomach as a cramp twists deep inside me. “I don’t feel so great.”

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

I shake my head. “I think I’m okay for now.”

He sighs, then shifts closer, wrapping an arm around me before gently guiding my head onto his shoulder. His warmth seeps into me, grounding me, making it impossible to focus on anything but the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.

“You’re exhausted,” he murmurs. “Try to get some rest. And stop worrying. I’m going to fix this.”

But the only way he could really fix this is by telling me he loves me. By telling me he wants this, wants me, and that maybe—just maybe—this isn’t a mistake at all.

But that’s not going to happen.

Right?

I close my eyes and will sleep to come. Thankfully I didn’t get much last night, and I drift off. The next thing I know, Elias is gently waking me, and I lift my head, rub my eyes and take in the warmth on his face as he gazes at me. The instant sight of him fills me with a measure of calm.

“Hey sleepy head,” he teases in a soft voice as the hum of the plane settles at the gate. Around us, passengers shuffle, reaching for their bags and stretching their limbs after the long flight. Elias’s fingers brush through my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear.

“I’m glad you got some sleep. Do you feel better?”

I nod, but the truth is while my body is rested, my heart is…that’s another story.

“Okay, let’s get you home,” he says.

Home?

That word lodges in my throat. Where is that now? Back with my brother? Or with my husband, who might not be my husband for much longer?

I swallow hard. “Can we go to your place?”

Elias doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, that’s home.” God, everything in the casual way he says that makes me think this is all real. Granted, I have been staying with him. I haven’t officially moved in or anything, though.

Elias grabs our bags and we make our way through the airport in silence. Outside, he orders us an Uber and we both fall quiet on the drive back. I steal a glance at him, take in the way he’s scrubbing his hand over his face. The poor guy is exhausted. I’m sure he spent the entire trip trying to figure out the steps needed for our divorce.

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