“Why’s that?”
“Because you’ve been eye fucking since I got here.”
I wish I had more restraint, but I can’t fight my gaze from drifting to him in the water. His daughter is using him as her own floating device even though he doesn’t have a life jacket on, and despite his heavy breaths from swimming in place for so long, he lets her climb all over him, circling her small ankles with his hands while laughing.
“I’m not,” I say, but even I can tell it’s weak. Probably because while we technically haven’t done anything more than kiss once, I’ve imagined doing more too many times to count. Last night, when we finished our three-way card game and Charlie suggested we go to bed, Eli followed me upstairs, and when our paths diverged—him toward the room he shares with Zoe, mine toward the one I share with Charlie—the back of his hand brushed mine, and our pinkies interlaced for barely a second. It was nothing, yet my body felt like a shaken bottle of soda, bubbles fizzing in my body and making me lightheaded. It felt like being young and spotting a cute guy on the beach, then daydreaming about your future together—except even in middle school, that guy was Eli for me.
Charlie hums. “Then you might not be banging physically, but you sure are banging mentally.”
“I don’t think I even want to wrap my head around the sentence you just created.” I also don’t want to think about the fact that she’s not sayingIam looking at him like that, butthat we both are.
Charlie sits straighter, leaning her arms on the back of the boat and tilting her head toward another bout of subtle sunshine. “You can deny it all you want, but I know my brother.”
“It’s… complicated,” I conclude. It’s not like I could give her an answer even if I wanted to. The line between friendship andmorehas been crossed, both now and in the past, but beyond that, I’m clueless. Our situation isn’t any less doomed than it was before.
Charlie doesn’t try to dig for more. Instead, she looks back at him and her niece. “He deserves to have someone who brings him happiness.”
The way she says it, her tone almost wistful, has my stomach twisting. “What does that mean?”
“He’d kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but he’s had a hard time since Liz left.”
“With Zoe, you mean?”
“With everything.”
“I thought they were never serious.” I try to keep my voice even, but jealousy still seeps through, which is stupid. We both had lives in my time away, and once I leave, he’ll have one again. The thought feels like flames licking my insides, but it’s the truth.
“They weren’t, I think, but still. They were together when she left.” She leans over me to pick a gummy from the bag I’d forgottenabout, but she doesn’t eat it, only twists it in her hand. “I think he felt guilty about it, too.”
“Why would he feel guilty?”
She shakes her head. “In his weird Eli-way of thinking, Liz left because of him, which means he’s the reason Zoe lost her mother. Pretty sure it’s been keeping him up at night, although he’ll never admit it to me.”
I gape at her. This is crazy. No one would ever think Eli is responsible for any of that. Yet the more I repeat her words in my head, the more sense it makes. Eliwouldfeel like it was his fault, even when he was the one who stayed. He would take responsibility for everything that could affect the well-being of his child.
When I was with Michael, we had this recurrent fight about cereal. It was stupid, but it drove me crazy. I have this particular brand of wheat cereal I like. It was what Mom and I sometimes ate for dinner when it was just the two of us. “A secret treat,” she’d say with a wink, and I’d feel so special. Michael always said they tasted like ass. However, when he was done with his chunky, protein-filled cereal and needed a replacement, he would dig through mine. I rarely ate it, but when I had a craving for it, I wanted it there. And half the time, I’d grab the box to find it practically empty, only the crappy, crumbled pieces left at the bottom of the box. How many times did I confront him about it, only for him to say he’d get some for me the next time he went grocery shopping? He couldn’t understand why it made me so mad. Couldn’t take responsibility, even for something as small as eating my cereal,and here is this man, burying himself in guilt over the actions of someone else.
“I think part of him felt abandoned, too. After Dad died, it kind of felt like our main link was gone. We were… drifting. I had to leave for med school first, and then Mom met Richard, and they started traveling. Felix left a while after that for some tech job in Taiwan. Eli was the only one who stayed. And then she left him.”
The small yacht rocks under us against the waves of another boat passing by. My eyes, like a pendulum following gravity, return to Eli. He’s watching Zoe climb back onto the boat, but as if feeling me, he looks up. My favorite smile on Earth greets me, and my heart shatters anew.
“He’s the best person I know.” I don’t mean to say it aloud, only realizing I did when I hear Charlie’s hum of agreement. Eli hasn’t looked away, and seeing my lips move without hearing what I’ve said has him quirking a brow up.
“Pretty sure he thinks the same thing of you,” Charlie tells me with a tap on the thigh before she rises to help Zoe dry off. Meanwhile, all I can think of is, this man’s heart needs to be protected with heavy padding and concrete, and whether I like it or not, I’m likely to be a sledgehammer to his glass walls.
Chapter 27
We return earlier than planned from our boat ride when a summer storm breaks across the lake. We try to hide under the barely-there cover of the boat, but we all end up drenched to our bones. Back at the cottage, we take turns in the shower to warm up while Eli gets dinner started; a hearty stew with bright carrots and potatoes bigger than my hands from the market we crossed on the way here, and a tangy sauce coating the tender pieces of beef. After dinner, Charlie does the dishes with Zoe who offers to help but only sends water splashing around and uses wine glasses as floating boats in the soapy water.
“I’ll go make a fire,” I say, heading toward the squeaky patio door overlooking the now calm water reflecting a barely-there sliver of moon. Even so, the dark water is shimmering, a silverish hue coloring the soft current.
“You don’t have to,” Eli says. He was picking up toys in the living room but is already next to the door, putting his shoes on. “I can do it.”
“Sit your male-savior ass down and let her do it,” Charlie says overher shoulder.
I stand on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Wait until she learns you wouldn’t let me mow your lawn.”
“Is chivalry a bad thing now?” he says, to which Charlie and I answer with a loud, “Yes!”
