Page 76 of His Elder

"Coffee tomorrow?" Eli asked.

"Yeah."

"And maybe you can tell me about this roommate of yours. He seems intense."

I laughed. actually laughed. "If you tell me why you're in Seattle instead of somewhere with better light."

"Deal."

He squeezed my hand once, then let go.

We stood. Gathered our things. As we walked toward the door, Eli paused.

"Give me your phone," he said.

My heart skipped a beat. I unlocked it and handed it to him. His fingers brushed mine—a deliberate, lingering contact that sent a jolt straight to my chest. He tapped the screen for a moment, then his own phone buzzed in his pocket.

"There," he said, handing it back. "Now you have my number. And I have yours."

"I'll use it," I promised.

"You better."

Outside, the Seattle rain had started—soft and persistent. Eli turned up his collar.

"I'll text you," he said. "About a time. And a place that doesn't smell like patchouli."

"I'm holding you to that."

He smiled. Small and real and just for me. Then he walked away into the rain.

I watched until he disappeared around the corner.

My phone buzzed. Jordan:

WHERE ARE YOU?

Did you ditch me for someone hot?

Something like that. Home soon.

OMG DETAILS REQUIRED NOW.

Yeah. Tonight.

I pocketed the phone and started walking.

The rain fell steady and soft, nothing like Barcelona's sudden downpours. Different city. Different life. Different versions of ourselves.

But for the first time in two years, I felt lighter.

20

9 MONTHS LATER

ELIAS

It took three months to cross the distance between "coffee tomorrow" and "here are the keys."