He lets out what sounds like a sigh of relief. I don’t dare turn around. My poker face used to be good. Real good. But then I fell in love and got all mushy and shit and ugh, now all my emotions are constantly on my face. It’s a real fucking problem. If he sees my face, he’s going to know I have no intention of using his card for a single thing.
Eli’s light laughter makes me grin, and as I step onto the front porch, he follows me. Once we’re on the road heading toward the nearest mall, he’s quiet, but I can sense him glancing at me every so often. “So,” I say, trying toopen the door for communication. “What kinds of stuff are you wanting to get today? Are we starting with clothes? Makeup? What’s the plan?”
He clears his throat, his knee bouncing a little. “Um, I’m fine with whatever you want to do.”
“Today’s about you, though. I mean, we should probably stop and order your tux first. After that, though? It’s all up to you.”
He’s silent for a while, but then he finally says, “Okay. Can we start with clothes?”
I smile, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. “Of course. What are you thinking in terms of style?”
He turns a bit in his seat so he can look at me. “What do you mean?”
I pull into the parking lot of the place we got Roman and Beck’s tuxes, shutting the car off before turning to face Eli. “I mean, like what type of clothing do you want? What’s your style?”
His face turns bright red and his eyes dart away from me. “Oh. Um…”
His throat bobs with a hard swallow, and I reach out to place a hand on his knee. “There’s really no wrong answer, and if you don’t know yet, that’s okay too. Hell, I didn’t really find my style until I was in nursing school.”
He shakes his head a little, almost like he’s having a conversation with himself, then he looks back at me, his eyes guarded and full of worry. “You’re sure that Roman and Beck won’t care what I want to wear or anything like that?”
That’s not even a question in my mind. I’m not sure that I’ve ever met people more accepting and loving than the two of them, so I nod. “Yeah, I’m positive. They’re some of the most open-minded people I know.”
His chest expands on a heavy inhale, and then he lets it out through pursed lips. He repeats the process a couple of times before looking down at his lap. “I…” He pauses, bringing a hand up to tug on the strands of his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “Iwanttowearprettystuff.”
I blink a couple of times as I try to work out what exactly he said, since it all came out in a jumbled rush. “Can you repeat that for me?” I finally ask when it’s clear I’m not going to figure it out on my own.
His eyes find mine, and he steels his shoulders. “I want to wear… pretty stuff.”
I nod slowly. That could mean a million things. “Okay. What does that look like to you?”
He seems to lose all the faux confidence he had, dropping his gaze as he slumps against the seat. He starts picking at his hands, and I realize he’s got his cuticlestorn to shit. Poor kid. He shrugs. “I don’t know. Like… my friend Molly, she does my makeup sometimes, and I really like it. And then, sometimes, I’ll wear her clothes. Not like… I don’t…ugh.”
I pat his knee where my hand is still resting. “Hey, it’s okay.”
He takes another breath. “I don’t want to be a girl or anything. I just… I feel good in pretty things.”
“Perfect. Are we talking skirts and dresses, or like crop tops? Ooo, I bet you’d look so adorable in some leggings and like, a slouchy top. Do you know what I mean?” I ask, starting to get excited about the possibilities, already running through a catalog in my head of the types of stores we could stop at today.
His head snaps up, and his eyes find mine, his jaw damn near hitting the ground. “Seriously?” he asks when he’s able to get himself under control again.
I cock my head. “Uh, yes?” Eli studies me for a few seconds, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m being truthful. “We also need to pick you out some makeup.”
His cheeks flush pink, and he nods slowly. “Okay. Yeah, but… okay. First, though, tux, right?”
“Yep. First, tux.”
Eli nods. Quick and decisive, so we climb out of the car together and head into the building. His wide eyestake in everything around us, and I can’t help but watch him. This poor kid doesn’t know the crazy family he’s just dropped into. He doesn’t know how much his life is going to change having all of us, but Ro especially. God, that man is a fucking saint, and I thank my lucky stars every day that some car weirdo yelled at me from across that parking lot.
When I tell the sales woman that we need a tux to match the others we ordered, she looks us up and gets right to work, taking Eli’s measurements. He looks incredibly concerned at first, his eyes darting to mine every few seconds, but after a bit, she manages to get him loosened up and relaxed.
The slight bruising on his face still hurts my heart. He’s healed a lot physically since coming to stay with Ro and Beck, but I know he still has a long way to go. Especially on the mental side of things. I know it will take therapy and time. And love. Thankfully, that’s not something Roman and Beck have ever been in short supply of. Not to mention the rest of his new crazy extended family.
When Eli’s finally done getting his measurements taken, we get the tux ordered and I pull out my credit card, handing it over to the lady. Eli lets out a little gasp. “What?” I ask, turning to look at him in concern.
“That’s not Beck’s card.”
Well, shit. “No. It’s not.”
