Page 43 of Overeager
All the air left Eli’s lungs, but he somehow managed to gasp, somewhere between a greeting and an accusation, “Richard.”
The bastard looked good. But then again, he always did. Eli’s ex was classically handsome in that Old Hollywood way, with a strong jaw, thick dark hair, and immaculate grooming. But he also had a nice, tanned glow going on today—he’d probably just come back from a weekend in Italy or something.
Objective appeal aside, though, with memories of Noah fresh in Eli’s mind, the sight of Richard left him … cold. Unaffected. Richard had his good looks, yes. He always had. But they were surface deep, and they came tied up with a massive ego. Richard just didn’t have the warmth Noah had. The magnetism. The sweetness and care.
Eli had learned that last part the hard way.
Some of Eli’s feelings must have been showing on his face, because Richard’s greeting sounded almost like a chastisement. “Lijah.”
Eli frowned at the old nickname. He’d always preferred Eli to Elijah or Lijah, but Richard had liked to tease him with the alternative. It had seemed charming at first, but now it had the feel of an attempt to take control in any way he could, including twisting Eli’s own name.
But Eli didn’t have to put up with that anymore, did he?
“Eli, please,” he corrected mildly, proud of himself for not sounding nearly as acerbic as he felt. “What are you doing here, Richard?”
He had a weird moment of panic after he asked the question. The papers were finalized, weren’t they? There wasn’t some terrible surprise waiting in the wings? But no. Eli knew for a fact they were.
Richard smiled easily, like Eli was asking out of curiosity and not because his visit was both unexpected and unwelcome. “Lunch with the dean.”
Of course. Business. Never mind that he’d met the dean through Eli and had somehow finagled his way into managing the man’s investment portfolio. He’d never thanked Eli for it, never counted it as a mark in his favor when he’d been trying to talk Eli into taking on fewer classes.
Well, whatever. Good for him. Really.
“And you decided to stop by for old time’s sake?” Eli asked, arching a skeptical brow.
“I wanted to see how you’re doing.” Richard tucked his hands into his suit pants pockets, rocking on his feet in a way Eli knew was more practiced than casual. “How you’re … holding up.”
There it was. The faux concern masking blatant condescension.
Eli straightened his spine and gave him a bright, fake smile. “Really well, actually.”
Richard looked him over, most likely searching for the lie. But there was no lie. Eliwasdoing really well. He was sleeping great, eating well, and having perfect, round-the-clock, toe-curling sex.
Eli might not have had an Italy tan, but he was pretty sure he was glowing in his own way.
And apparently he was right, because Richard’s lips turned down into a there-and-gone frown. Ooh, he didn’t like that, did he? Had he really expected to find Eli lost and miserable and missing him? Bags under his eyes, his pheromones emitting pure, bitter misery?
Probably. Richard was definitely arrogant enough to assume Eli was still falling apart without him.
Richard sniffed the air, not quite subtle about it, not in the way he usually was. “Is that …?”
Eli stiffened. He shouldn’t smell like Noah right now. He hadn’t spent the night last night, and Eli’s clothes were fresh. But the alpha had been over often enough that Eli’s belongings could still be carrying his scent lightly enough that Eli hadn’t noticed.
Richard’s brow furrowed, and he inhaled again. His gaze homed in on Eli sharply. “Are you seeing someone?”
Eli didn’t flinch. He madesurehe didn’t flinch. “And how would that be any of your business?”
Richard stepped closer to his desk. “Just because the divorce is finalized doesn’t mean I can’t concern myself with—”
“That’s exactly what it means, actually,” Eli told him, maintaining the most even tone in the history of the universe.
“Are we really going to do the whole hostile exes thing?” Richard asked with a sigh, like Eli was being difficult instead of perfectly pleasant.
But Eli was done folding when it came to his ex. If Richard didn’t like him acting agreeable, then Eli would pull out the big guns. “You cheated, Richard,” he said, although he kept the even tone. “Many times.”
“I think we both know it was more complicated than that.”
Right. Because somehow it had been Eli’s fault, the cheating. Because he’d wanted to work, because he hadn’t wanted the baby they’d both agreed early on that they weren’t going to have. Because he hadn’t fallen on his knees and worshipped at the altar of Richard’s perfection.
