Page 49 of Make Me Yours

SIXTEEN

STELLA

There isn’t a day that goes by where thoughts of him don’t take up every single dark corner of my mind. Moments of what I blindly confused as a glimpse of happiness turned out to be nothing more than the bitter truth of his feelings for me.

I’m numb. Empty and barely hanging on to the last strain of my sanity. The air I breathe is excruciatingly dry, burning my insides like a raging flame ravaging everything within me. Yet on the outside, I’m as calm as the ocean on a warm summer day.

Even I have to admit, the ache that dwells inside of me is becoming slightly more bearable as the days go by. For weeks, I couldn’t say his name without tears flowing from my eyes. I couldn’t dream of his face, his hands caressing mine, trailing over my body, and adoring me like I only wished he would, without waking up screaming in agony.

Yet today, I awoke to silence, dry eyes, and nothing but distant memories fading into the distance.

My phone vibrates in my hand as I reach for it from the charging port, the incoming message startling me. For a second my body goes still, my heart pounding at the possibility of the text being from Kai, who I’ve not spoken to. Though I’m only fooling myself with false hope. How pathetic can I truly be?

Instead, I see it’s Elijah, who’s become the only person I’ve confided in. My friends remained by my side, but with Scarlett and Jade soon having families of their own, I can’t rely on them to fix my problems like I’m sure they would.

ELIJAH: Good Morning Little Dove. Be ready at nine. I want to show you something.

Smiling, I type back a brief reply, letting him know I’ll be ready.

It’s been Elijah who’s helped make the days more bearable, and my meds have made the pain at night seem duller. He texts me constantly. We hang out almost daily and found we have more in common than we’d ever expected.

Elijah has this comforting personality. He’s kind, understanding, and listens without judging me. Nothing like I would have first imagined when I’d met him, though if I’m being honest, it’s not fair for me to have judged him before getting to know him.

It’s hypocritical of me.

Elijah’s kind smile and warm shoulder to cry on have been exactly what I never knew I needed to help me get through my first heartbreak.

We’ve had movie nights back at his house, eating ice cream straight from the gallon, and potato chips by the pound, while watching the cheesiest Rom-Coms I know for a fact Kai would have never been caught dead watching. Nightly joyrides on the back of his motorcycle where I’ve nearly collapsed from equal thrilling excitement and paralyzing fear. And my favorite of all, our drunken Kai bashing sessions, where he drags him through the dirt calling him the biggest idiot, among other colorful words, for letting me get away.

Despite all the time we’ve been spending together, Elijah has assured me he knows our friendship can be nothing more than that, a friendship. I gave my heart to Kai, and he trashed it along with every bit of my self-respect and sanity. You can’t come back from something like that, at least not whole.

Elijah knows I have to get married, something I confided in him just last week during one of our drunken Kai bashing nights. Despite my confession, he’s swooped in and has once again made me feel like I could breathe.

After settling on a pair of washed-outmom jeansand a light bluecottage corecrop top, I snuck out of the beach house and down to the farthest end of the beach, hoping none of my friends would catch me sneaking out and jumping onto the back of Elijah’s bike. If they did, they’d start asking questions I don’t want to answer, or worse, it would somehow get back to my uncle. It was already a colossal disaster when I told him I was moving out, even though I assured him he didn’t have to worry. I’d still be fulfilling his task.

After only five minutes, Elijah pulls up on the back of his black and green motorcycle, looking dangerously hot as he parks in front of me. He’s dressed in his usual dark jeans and Cobra leather jacket, his face hidden under his helmet. I casually hop on behind him, like we’ve done so many times in the past weeks.

“Where are we going?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his waist as I settle onto the bike. I still cringe every time he pulls up on the back of his bike, thinking the loud noise will get us caught, only now instead of intense fear, I somewhat feel a rush of adrenaline as we ride through the outskirts of town and into Pleasant Hills.

He laughs, revving up the motor. “Well, hello to you too Stella,” he mocks, and I roll my eyes at his sarcasm.

“Shut up, I’m just curious. Our outings aren’t usually this early.”

He laughs, his chest rising and falling under my fingertips. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now, would it?”

Two hours later, we pass a billboard announcing we’re entering the small coastal town of Haven. My ass is achingly sore, my skin surely sunburned to a crisp, and my hair an utterly tangled mess underneath the helmet, but the view that hits me the moment I slide off of the bike and remove the helmet immediately relaxes me.

It’s absolutely breathtaking. The sun gleams blindingly bright amidst the clear blue sky that beautifully blends into the dark blue of the water, while sparse pillowy clouds are scattered along the water's edge. In the middle of the expansive sea, I spot a boat. Actually, let me rephrase that, it’s not just any boat. A two-story luxury superyacht sits beautifully perched amongst the raging waves. Thanks to my upbringing, I am no stranger to yachts of this caliber, having visited quite a few in the past. It’s common for people in my world to own one, although I do not know why I’m staring at one right now.

“What are we doing here, Elijah?” I ask, turning and finding him smiling at me, dangling a pair of keys in his hand. Confused and a little worried, I cock my head to the side while he continues to stare at me in amusement.

“You down to take a swim, Little Dove?” Without waiting for my response, Elijah takes off toward the beach, walking on the sand toward a small motorboat waiting along the shore.

I take a moment to react, as I stand here blatantly staring at him, bewildered without moving. Looking down at my feet, at least I’m wearing my Tory Burch sandals. I slip them off and rush toward him, the sand sticking in between my toes as I run along.

“Wait!” I shout out, but he doesn’t stop. “Elijah, please, where are you going?”

He stops suddenly, my chest crashing into his hard back. “Do you trust me?” he asks, turning toward me and taking my hand in his.

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