Page 24 of Rough Love

"How have you been?" he asks, his voice giving nothing away. I want to roll my eyes and maybe even slap him. What does he have to be so damn nervous about? He's the one keeping secrets. He's the one who—

No. He deserves to sweat it out. In fact…I internally chuckle with glee.

"Oh, you know, tired. Achy. Emotional.Nauseous," I explain casually, as though I'm discussing the weather. His brows furrow and he leans in, bracing his forearms on the table.

"What? Why? Are you sick?" His voice, which was previously empty, and emotionless, is now full of genuine concern and confusion. I almost feel bad. Almost.

Pushing out my still bloated taco belly, I lean back, giving him a good view, and point, "Sick of morning sickness! And oh my god, don't even get me started on the gas! And the back pain!" Sighing, I rub my hand lovingly over the tiny bump and look at him sadly.

His already light skin pales and I swear on everything that is holy, the man looks seconds from vomiting. Or passing out. Maybe both. His mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish out of water. He leans back, then leans forward. He moves to stand, then drops back down. It takes everything inside of me to not bust out laughing as I watch him dissolve into a terrified puddle.

"Your—you're—you are—" He stands again, fully this time, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks down at my belly which is now starting to hurt from the force it takes to keep it distended. "How far?" he chokes out.

His panic and ghostly white skin begin to make me feel bad. Really bad. Evil. But then, I remember last night. I remember the way they turned and walked away from me. I remember the way they said sweet things that night. The way they took care of me. I remember the way they left like thieves in the night.

I remember how filthy I felt. How many showers I had to take the next day and how no matter what I did, I couldn't get the used feeling off of my skin. Not from the sex, but from them.

"Three months," I reply coolly, rubbing my belly again before subtly shifting forward to relieve the pressure.

Eli stares at me. He stares, hard. His terrified eyes lock onto mine and I'm too consumed by the bright blue with subtle hints of green that I miss it. I miss the moment his eyes shift from terrified,to not.

He takes a step forward then another. Without breaking eye contact, he drops down to his knees right in front of me. Those beautiful eyes that have captured me, held me hostage from the very first time he looked at me, change in an instant.

They. Gloss. Over.

Too distracted by his eyes, by the pure, raw emotion I see inside of them, I don't notice what he's doing until it's too late. He reaches out and places a hand on my belly.

I stop breathing.

He drags his eyes away from mine, freeing me from the spell he has me under, and looks down at my belly, happily, reverently, adoringly.

"Ours,"he whispers.

And the spell shatters.

I fly from my seat, pushing him backward as I go. I stumble over his long legs and for the second time today, I trip. I brace myself to land, knowing it's going to be a hard fall, but I never reach the ground. Somehow, Eli catches me with what I can only assume are ninja-level skills. I regain my footing and stand, smoothing down my apron.

"Fuck! Are you okay? Did you hit your stomach?" He asks, the words sounding slightly manic as he begins to pat me down, checking for injury. His immediate concern for mystomachmakes me want to scream.

Holy shit. What is happening? How did that backfire so epically? It was a joke. A fucking joke. Why is he acting like this? Like he's happy. Like he wants this. Oh my god. Now, I really am nauseous.

"Stop!" I shout, pushing his hands away. He freezes. He's still on his knees before me, his hands now in the air as if to show me he won't touch me again. His eyes scan my body before flicking to my face. They’re still glassy and the sight of them makes my own eyes burn. "Eli, I'm not pregnant," I choke out.

His hands drop.

We stare at each other.

My heart thumps erratically in my chest and from the way his pulse is jumping in his neck, I would say he's feeling the same. Silence fills the space. Uri and Jess are now magically gone and apparently at some point, the other customers left as well. It's just us, only inches away from each other but we might as well be hundreds of miles apart.

I feel sick but I need him to know. Need to apologize. Don't I?

"I'm sorry. I was joking. I didn't know you would—" I break off, shrugging helplessly, my voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know."

A few tense moments pass.

Eli stands.

He turns.

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