His annoyance fell flat when he caught her gaze. He gritted his teeth as if supremely conflicted. Then he sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to bump against the headboard.
"Look, I just want to be alone and study this for a while, okay." His tone was mildly apologetic. Though the word 140
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"sorry" didn't cross his lips, he opened his eyes and said it with his expression.
Ellie had no idea what was wrong, but she was vividly aware of the fact that this was the first time she hadn't been able to pull him from a mood. It shocked and scared her and made her think she'd done something wrong, something to upset him. Not wanting to look clingy and beg him to talk to her, she nodded wordlessly and scooted off the bed.
"I'm sorry I bothered you," she murmured and hurried from the room. She ran all the way back through the lazy rain to her dorm room, where she shut herself inside and wept the rest of the afternoon.
Boston appeared the next day. Once again, dismal weather filled the campus with a slow, miserable warm rain. Ellie had dried up from her tear fest and was doing homework when the soft knock came. After scooting off her bed, she went to the door and checked the peephole. Her heart about thumped out of her chest when she saw Boston standing there, his hair glistening with raindrops.
Pulse racing, she flipped the deadbolt and flung the door open. He lifted his face, and th
ey both froze, taking a good ten seconds to just stand there, soaking in the sight of each other.
Finally, Boston asked, "Want to go for a walk?"
Neither seemed to care how wet it was outside. Ellie merely bobbed her head and answered, "Let me put on some shoes."
He stayed in the hall and watched her through the open doorway as she plopped onto the floor and jerked on a pair of 141
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sneakers. The fact that he didn't come inside told her things still weren't kosher. But Ellie didn't care. He was here. He was attempting a reconnection.
She assumed he'd tell her what was wrong, what she'd done that had upset him. She'd been wracking her brain for twenty-four hours, trying to think up something she might've said to displease him. But she couldn't think of anything. All she knew was that she loved him, and thinking he was upset with her hurt her to no end.
Ellie was surprised when he remained strangely mute as they started their walk. He didn't seem to want to talk. He only wanted to walk.
So, they walked.
It was ten minutes into their stroll before he even took her hand. Still no words were spoken; he merely slipped his damp fingers through hers and held on. Ellie closed her eyes briefly and tightened her grip in quiet support. Another ten minutes passed. He led them to a deserted memorial park and into a thick copse of trees off the beaten path.
When he slowed to a stop, Ellie looked up. He turned to her slowly and blinked as if surprised to see her.
"You're all wet," he murmured, realizing it for the first time. He lifted his hand and wiped a stream of rain off her cheek.
Her heart warmed. "So are you," she told him and brought her hand up to mimic his actions.
He closed his eyes and moved his face against her fingers, delighting in her touch. Lightly catching her wrist, he held her 142
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hand still as he pressed his mouth against her palm and kissed her, licking the rain off the inside of her fingertips.
Ellie's loins tightened and her spirits lifted. "Boston," she whispered.
He inhaled loudly, smelling her scent. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she felt the zap in every pore of her being.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking regretful like he'd never looked before. "God, I am so sorry."