Page 15 of The One Who Got Away
Her laugh was delighted. “Why was he a catch?”
“He owned the company that built all the resorts in Costa Rica. He was my boss.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
“I know. But he was a really good guy. Mostly. I didn’t agree with all his practices, but Costa Rica is a different place all around. We built a compound for a drug lord, then we’d go and build houses with Habitat for Humanity. It was a wild time.”
“And you loved it?”
No. Loving it wasn’t the right word. But it did keep me busy. It kept my brain from getting pickled with booze like most of the guys on the team. “I learned a lot. I had an affinity for electronics and a strong back.”
She leaned over her plate and dug into the chicken. We spoke of the builds I’d done and the games she’d been involved in. Where I’d gone searching for experiences there was always one truth.
This is where I’d always longed to be.
Listening to her talk, watching her animated face, and the little wrinkle in her nose when she laughed at herself. She stood, picking up our dishes and my eyes drifted over her. She was wearing one of her oversized sweaters that looked like a cloud. Instead of her usual leggings she wore jeans that molded to her in all the right ways.
Kicking into gear, I stood and gathered the rest. “You cooked, I clean. You know the rules.”
She laughed. “We can do them together.”
In her teeny tiny kitchen. I groaned. I was going to be in so much damn trouble.
While I gathered the last of the silverware she’d put on music. The bubbly K-pop song quickly slipped into the piano melodies and grunge of Linkin Park. I grinned as I reached down for the door to the dishwasher.
She shook her head. “Busted.” She handed me a towel.
We sang along to the songs of our youth. Her off-key yowl taking me back to endless days in the summer when I crashed her job at the ice cream shop and helped her clean up.
Finally, we put the last cookie sheet away and jumped around the miniature kitchen as we sang the fast lyrics to “Breaking the Habit” to each other before she fell against me at the end out of breath.
Her cherry scent floated up and the softness of her sweater made me want to curl her in tighter.
“God, I didn’t know how much I needed that.” She grinned up at me before it slowly slid away. “I really missed you, Gus.”
I couldn’t help drawing a thumb down a curl that had sprung free in the steam from the dishes. “Me too, El. When did you start straightening your hair?”
Her golden eyes went hazy and I almost cupped her face. Would it be soft?
She pushed out of my arms. “Girl’s prerogative.” She shrugged. “The guys didn’t take me seriously with my crazy curls, so I started straightening it and wearing ball caps.” She toyed with the tip of her ponytail.
“That’s cool. I just always loved them.”
The air thickened between us, then she grabbed my hand. “Get the wine. It’s time to watch some terrible movies.”
I laughed and grabbed the extra bottle of red that I’d brought along since we’d killed the white. She urged me down the stairs then stopped and fidgeted. “I was feeling nostalgic.”
My breath caught at the pillow and blanket fort she’d made in the middle of the living room in front of the fireplace where their television was mounted. Her favorite squishy fake fur blankets were stacked along with pillows and couch cushions for extra added height.
Just like we used to.
The memory of me barely hanging onto sanity while cuddled up with Eloise put me right back into those nights when we were teens.
I’d barely been able to stop myself then.
Now?
God.
