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It was just the way he was. I’d waited too long to be picky.
Over the short amount of time I had to get to know him over the past week or so, I’d come to know a different side to Elliot—which included a little more sensitivity to my feelings than he’d had for the past four years. I know, my standards were low. But he was trying.
I just didn’t know what I would tell Pierre when he found out. Either way, he was going to find out, and he wouldn’t like it. To me, Elliot and his friends had changed—to Pierre, they were still a band of heartless dipshits.
Sure, he wasn’t perfect. But neither was I.
“Yes, of course I’m gonna miss you,” Elliot answered, with a breath that sounded like it took more nerves to say that than he’d care to admit. It was as if it killed him to let me know he had feelings for me. Must’ve been why he projected it onto me all these years.
“And I’ll miss you,” I said, the words coming out of my mouth a little rockier than I would’ve liked. I wasn’t used to saying things like this—not to him. “But I still don’t understand why you’re so antsy about me leaving. It’s just for the weekend.”
Putting my hands on my hips, I looked down at him, waiting.
“Is it Pierre?” I said, trying to help him along. He could be so immature for someone who was clever enough to convince every one of his high school teachers to fake his grades. “Are you jealous?”
“Pfft. Jealous? Of Pierre?” He sounded like he was genuinely offended by the notion. “Name one thing that he has that I would be jealous of. A bigger dick?”
I rolled my eyes. “How about being a decent human being?”
That shut him up. Couldn’t lie, I enjoyed putting him in his place, even for something as trivial as mentioning his terrible character. But at the end, it was okay, because his charming personality and killer facial features made up for it. He knew that.
I still kind of hated him for it.
“Thought so,” I said, letting out a long breath as I stepped back from my duffel to scan the room for any last items to bring along. Seemed like I’d gotten everything I needed, not that I had the time to go scrounging around for more hair ties or pads. What I needed was to get the fuck out of here and actually make it to the airport on time.
“You ready?” Elliot said, reading my mind as he grabbed my duffel.
I nodded. He slid off my bed and swung it over his shoulder. When he approached the door, part of me expected him to run off with it, pitch the bag out a window and into the dumpster bin. Something to get me mad, to mess with me, make me regret ever having given him a chance at all.
Even though he and his friends had proven themselves to me these past couple days, it was hard to let go of the memories they’d left in me. It was hard to forget who they had once been.
And who I had once been.
Instead, when he opened the door, something else happened—a series of voices yelled, “Surprise!” and my eyes landed on Leo and Felix. Right away, Leo put his arm around my shoulder and ushered me out into the hall while Elliot stood off to the side, frowning. Felix reached up his hand to ruffle my hair. I couldn’t help giggling.
“Who invited you two?” Elliot said, obviously unamused. “Get off her. She’s gonna be late for her flight.”
“Look who’s so anxious for me to leave now,” I retorted, reaching up to pinch Leo’s cheeks. For a guy that was six feet tall and ripped to a T, he couldn’t have more of a baby face.
“You’re taking me with you, right, Kat?” Leo asked, tilting his head in an almost pleading puppy-faced look. “Please?”
“I wish,” I said, casting Elliot a side-glance.
I loved seeing him like this—about to boil over in envy. It wasn’t just hot—I wouldn’t lie, it made me feel better about myself, too. Standing up on my tippy-toes, I leaned into Leo’s ear.
“Between you and me,” I whispered, “I’ll miss you the most.”
“And I’ll miss you the most,” I heard Felix’s low, tender voice from behind me. He put his hand on the small of my back as he came around to hand me something. “Here.”
“Oh?” I said, raising my eyebrows at him as he placed a small box into my hand. It was about as light as a birthday card. Couldn’t have been jewelry. “What’s this?”
“Something for your friend,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he stepped back, and put both hands into his front pockets. “Tell him it’s an apology … of sorts.”
I smiled at him, still trying to process what he said as I opened the lid of the box and peeked inside.
Nestled within a thin layer of fluffy white cotton was a slick, metallic card. On its white surface, engraved in golden letters, were the words, “C’est Bien.”
“It’s a gift card,” Felix explained with a shrug. “My dad owns a few restaurants in London. This is one is probably the best French establishment in the city.”