Page 102 of We Own Tonight
“Oh, I see, now you’re just an actor again?” I nudge him. Not so long ago, Eli was claiming he was practically a cop, I guess he forgetsthat.
Recognition dawns on his face, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m a man who is dying for some cake.” Hewinks.
Smooth.
I kiss his cheek and get to my feet. I don’t even know if the cake survived, but if I know Kristin, she wrapped it up and put it in the fridge forme.
I, on the other hand, would’ve just tossed it. I will never be the class mom or the wife who organizes some big event. It’s not mystyle.
“You know,” Eli yells from the living room. “I could skip the cake and go for a spongebath.”
“I bet you could, but I’m good, thanks.” I laugh as I open thefridge.
Sure enough, the cake is wrapped in plastic wrap and aluminum foil, which is something I’m going to need to ask her about. Especially if it preserves cake for longer, that’s a goodtip.
Cake is always a goodthing.
“Killjoy! Did you find the cake?” heasks.
I walk out with the whole thing and twoforks.
“It looks great. Is it edible?” hejokes.
I move around to the couch and sit next to him. “Ass. I’m not sure, but since it’s your birthday cake, you should totally have the firstbite.”
He eyes the cake and then looks back at me. Then, he dips his finger in the icing and moves it to his mouth. His green eyes move back to mine before he smears it on my chest. I go to jump up, but he grabs my wrist, holding me down. “Stay there,” he instructs. “I want some extra sugar with mycake.”
His lips kiss a trail down to my neck, and then his tongue slides across my skin. Heat pools in my center at the feel of him on my skin. Eli takes his time, licking the frosting from my chest. I’ve missed his touch. My fingers glide through his thick hair, and his longer-than-normal scruff scratches in the best possibleway.
I make a mental note to tell him to keep it for awhile.
“I think the cake is perfect,” hemuses.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, mostdefinitely.”
I dip my finger in and then pop the sugary goodness in my mouth. “Mmm,” I moan. “It’s good, but I think maybe it’s missingsomething.”
He takes a bigger swipe and places the frosting on my thigh. Eli grips my calves, pulling so I fall backward. “I need another taste,” heexplains.
“Well, by all means.” I’m not going to stop him. Eli is the fire that I never want to extinguish. When he’s around, I’m alive, and I never want to go back. I’m beautiful, special, and precious tohim.
His tongue moves higher and higher up my leg before he stops. “Eli,” I groan, wanting him to keepgoing.
He leans back, fire blazing in his eyes, and I know this cake is going to be eaten verycreatively.
“Mr. Walsh will reada brief statement, and then we’ll allow a few questions at the end,” Sharon says as we stand in front of a crowd ofreporters.
Eli squeezes my hand before releasing it. I hate this for him. I hate this for me, too, but he’s the one talking. Hours before, Sharon explained the importance of the wording and our body language before making us review each possible way to handle any questions. When she was satisfied we wouldn’t screw it up, she berated me for another fifteen minutes about my outfit. After she finally found a black pants suit, red heels, and jewelry that she found adequate, we were on ourway.
Now, it’s reallyhappening.
My heart races in my chest when Eli clears his throat. I wish this weren’t necessary. He’s kept his condition a secret for years, and today, he’s going to tell theworld.
“Good afternoon. I’d first like to take a moment and thank you all for the get-well messages. The staff at Tampa General Hospital is truly phenomenal, and I received the best care while I was there.” Eli clenches his hand and then flattens it. “Six days ago, I was in my home where I fell and hit my head. Thankfully, I didn’t sustain any lasting damage from the concussion, and my face is fine, so no worries about filming.” He winks at the camera before tossing a smile to the reporters. “However, my fall was due to a condition I was diagnosed with ten years ago. I have relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis and have been able to manage my disease with a fantastic team of doctors and regularmedication.”
The faces of the reporters vary from shock to worry. I listen as he explains more about his MS and how it affects him. He speaks about his medication, the fact that he wasn’t symptomatic, and what it means goingforward.
