Page 65 of Enticing the Elf
He sighs with relief.
“But we do need to talk.”
“About the rabbits?”
“Yes, but not just that. Though, just so you know, you caring so much about the welfare of my pet makes me really fucking horny.”
A strangled sound escapes his throat. “Good to know.”
“And I agree, it would be best for them to keep each other company when we’re working or out, and they can stay with us wherever we’re staying at night. Were you planning this when you extended Elsking’s hutch?”
He shrugs slightly. “Not exactly. I mostly wanted to give her some play tunnels, but the guy I ordered her new collar from mentioned that rabbits like company. I was still looking into it when I made the plan to extend the hutch, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to make it big enough for two, just in case. I built the same one for my place, so it will feel familiar to them.”
“That’s so swee— Wait, what new collar?” He ordered a new collar for her?
“Oh. Well, you know how you weren’t happy with the selection when you got her collar? I was looking online at what was available so I could send you some links, but nothing was good enough. So I contacted this company that makes them custom. I ordered one already, mostly to see if they do good work, and I figured if they do, you can design what you like forElsking. And I’ll get one for Butterscotch, too—they had fake yellow topazes that would look beautiful with her fur.”
I bury my face in my hands, not sure whether to laugh or just break down. I thought I’d worked through all my conflicted feelings and come to a decision I was happy with, but I was so wrong.
“Dáithí? I’m sorry if I overstepped. I swear, I wasn’t making decisions for you. I just didn’t want you to spend time designing something and be disappointed if the quality turned out bad.”
Shaking my head, I drop my hands and meet his worried gaze. “It’s not that. I’m not mad, Eoin, and I’m so sorry you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me.”
“I don’t,” he says immediately, surprise dominating his expression. “If I did, I just wouldn’t have done the things that might make you mad. But I also don’t want to be pushy. Elsking’syours.”
His insistence on respecting me—and the boundaries I’ve been setting—is all I needed for the last piece to click into place.
“We should call off the Summit of Love.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Eoin
Dáithí’s wordshang between us. My eyes are locked on his face—is that fear? Determination?—while I try to process them. Is this… good? Bad? Does he want to call it off because he’s made his decision or because he’s realized it’s pointless for me to try to prove something he doesn’t want me to prove?
I was done worrying about the latter, but the fact that he actually called it the “Summit of Love,” a name he’s refused to use up until now, has shifted my worldview. Maybe I don’t have as good a grip on this situation as I thought.
As the silence lengthens, his expression morphs more strongly into fear, and I pull myself together.
“You want to call it off?”
He nods, then clears his throat. “Yes.”
“That’s your call to make, if you want it.” I choose my words carefully so I don’t break down and beg—at least, not until I know for certain that this means the end of us. “Why? That is… why now? I thought I was doing well.” I try not to hold my breath. It’s counterproductive to thinking fast.
To my dismay, that seems to make him more unhappy.
“It’s not that. You’re… amazing, frankly. You’ve been excelling at every task, but the thing is,you shouldn’thave to.” His voice cracks on the last words, and he stops to suck in air.
I don’t know what to say. He’s right; I shouldn’t have to. Idon’thave to. This was my idea. I offered—insisted, in fact. There’s no obligation for me to be here, completing tasks, and we both know it. But that’s not what he means.
It’s incredibly clear to me now that when Ari said he thought Dáithí had been hurt, I should have acted. I’d never force Dáithí to tell me something he didn’t want to, but I could have let him know what I suspected and that I was ready to support him however he needed. Sometimes all people need is to know who’s safe to talk to.
He’s still staring at the floor, his jaw clenched, so I gather up the bunnies and stand slowly, then cross the room to settle them in the hutch, giving him a moment to settle his emotions. When I turn back, he’s watching me with unmistakable longing… and regret.
My stomach sinks.
“Eoin,” he whispers, but I seize my chance, returning to sit beside him. If distance makes it easier for him to end us, I’m not leaving his side the whole time he’s speaking.