Page 27 of Tangled Hearts (Mended Hearts #4)

Eli

H olden helps me climb into the back seat of the car. His eyes are full of worry, but I really can’t think about that. “I’m okay, Uncle Hold.”

He studies me, then finally nods, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Please call me tonight, little bestie. I’m worried about you.”

“I know. I’ll be alright.”

My voice sounds wooden and hollow, even to my own ears, and it must not help Uncle Hold because his brow furrows. “I know you’ll be alright. You’re tough as nails, but I’m still worried and I’m allowed to worry. Call me anyway. It doesn’t have to be a long talk, okay? Just check in with me?”

I nod. That seems to be enough for Holden because he pulls me into a hug, squeezing me tightly before letting me go and kissing my forehead again. “Sorry for ruining the day,” I whisper.

He shakes his head and cups my face. “You didn’t ruin anything, little bestie. Impossible. Are you sure you don’t want us to come home with you? ”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I don’t want to take any more from them. I mostly just want to go home and go to bed. Maybe if I fall asleep and wake up, I can pretend it’s a new day and start over.

Holden sighs and steps away from the car, glancing at me over his shoulder again. Roman gets in the car. “Sorry, Dad.”

He turns around to look at me. “Stop apologizing, Eli. We don’t do that.”

I know that. I do. This just fucking sucks. “Okay.”

I look out the window, watching Beck and Nic getting closer. My heart flips in my chest. I hope Nic holds me like last night. I need that, I think. Does it make me bad if all I want is him right now? What if he doesn’t want that?

It doesn’t mean anything.

I swallow hard, my throat aching.

Nic and Dad climb into the car without a word.

Nic looks right at me. I can’t read his expression, but it doesn’t matter because no sooner than he locks eyes with me, he looks away.

I lay my hand face-up on the seat between us, hoping he takes the offer for what it is. He glances at it, then brushes his pinky down my palm. Something about the touch soothes me instantly, but it’s fleeting.

He pulls away, placing his hands in his lap, and looks at the window. I stare at the back of his head. He doesn’t look at me again for the entire ride home.

By the time we pull into the driveway, I’ve had it.

I’m pissed. And hurt. Some miserable, fucked-up tangled knot of both.

I’m shaking. Hopefully it’s not noticeable.

I don’t need my dads’ concern right now.

I need to make Nic talk to me. I need to decide if I’m okay with continuing this fucked-up back and forth .

I think… I think I deserve better than this. Better than what I’m getting from him. I’m done.

“Call if you need us, Eli,” Beck says.

I nod, then climb from the car. My legs feel noodly, barely holding me up. Maybe I just need to tell Nic to get his shit and go back to his stupid little fucking hotel room. My heart clangs painfully, stealing my breath. I don’t mean that. Not at all.

I nod at Beck. Wave at them. Try to keep my face neutral. “Love you, guys.”

“We love you too,” they chorus in unison.

I shut the car door. Nic follows behind me like a little lost puppy, which just pisses me off more. I can feel the rage simmering in my blood, threatening to make me explode.

And as soon as we step through the door, I do. All the anger and anxiety and stress burn through me, and I lose my fucking shit. I whirl on Nic, shoving him backward with a hand on his chest. His eyes widen as he stumbles back. “What in the actual fuck is your problem?” I practically yell.

“ My problem? What is my problem?”

I scoff. “Yes. Your fucking problem. You don’t get to keep doing this to me!”

Nic looks around. I don’t know what the fuck he’s looking for. “You don’t get to just—just… fucking hold me and whisper stupid shit to me in the dark and then turn around and treat me like shit.”

Nic lets out an incredulous laugh. “I’m not treating you like shit.”

“Yes. Yes you are! How do you not see that?”

He throws his hands up in the air, then tries to shove his way past me.

I grab his arm. “You’re not going anywhere, Nic.

Fuck. That.” He pulls away from me. I think that would probably hurt my feelings if I wasn’t so fucking mad.

“You’re a fucking liar.” If I was expecting him to take the bait, I was mistaken.

He starts pacing, pulling on his hair. “Fucking talk to me! Stop ignoring me!” I shout, my irritation spiraling out of control.

“No.”

I recoil like he’s physically hit me. “What do you mean no ?”

“I’m not ignoring you. I can’t stop ignoring you if I’m not fucking ignoring you, Eli.”

“Wrong. You are ignoring me. You wouldn’t even look at me.” My voice cracks. I fucking hate that my voice cracks. “You said you wouldn’t let go, and you did.” My voice turns wobbly, tears burning my eyes. “You lied to me. You wouldn’t even look at me,” I whisper.

He turns to me, eyes wild and burning. “You don’t get it, Eli. You don’t fucking understand.”

“Then make me, goddammit!”

Before I can process, Nic’s in my face, inches from me, his warm breath gusting over my lips. His hands cup my face, and even though I’m mad and hurt, I melt. “They’re going to see, Eli. Don’t you get it?”

I don’t fucking get anything. “See what?”

He drops his hands and steps away from me. He doesn’t even look at me as he turns and walks out of the living room. I stand in stunned silence. Fuck this fuck this fuck this.

I chase after him, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and yanking him backward. “Stop fucking running from me. Answer me, dammit. Fucking answer me!”

He turns around so quickly I lose my grip on him and stumble. “Everything, Eli!” he bellows, voice rough and sharp. He closes his eyes, so much naked pain reflected on his face that I almost can’t breathe. When he opens them again, he looks defeated. Lost. “They’re going to see everything.”

A whispered confession. A heartbreak. His and mine. I gape at him in silence for a second. Finally, I whisper, “What’s everything?”

He deflates. Like someone cut the strings holding him up. “You, Eli,” he whispers, pained and low. “ You’re everything.”

The words hit me in the chest like an explosion.

He turns again. To walk away. To leave me standing here.

You, Eli. You’re everything.

I don’t even think. I grab him once again, shoving him against the wall so hard it echoes through the hallway. He stares at me with wide eyes. My heart’s beating hard against my ribs, my hands shaking where they’re gripping his shirt.

I rise on my tiptoes, tightening my grip on his shirt, and slam my mouth onto his.

A feral sound rips from his throat a split second before he fists his hands in my hair and drags me to him. It’s raw and carnal and messy. It feels so fucking good I might actually die.

We kiss like we’re starving. Nic groans into the kiss, tightening his grip to the point of almost pain.

He stumbles forward, his hands leaving my hair.

They’re everywhere. On my throat, my shoulders, sliding under my shirt, gripping my hips, and shoving me backward until I’m the one against the wall.

It’s overwhelming.

Too much.

Not enough.

I need more.

I slide a hand under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin.

To know he’s real, and he’s here, and this is actually happening.

He draws in a breath, and just as quickly as our kiss started, it ends.

He pulls away, taking a quick step back, and I try to chase him.

“We can’t, Eli,” he says, voice ragged and raspy and fucking ruined.

“We can,” I insist. “We really can. Please.”

Nic stares at me. I have no idea what he sees, but I feel unhinged, so it’s probably just want. Raw fucking want. That’s all I seem to be. His fingers twitch at his sides. Indecision wars on his face.

“Fuck, little doll,” he rasps, taking a step away from me like he’s going to run again.

He drags his hands through his hair, tugging on the unruly strands.

I fucking hate this. Why won’t he just take me?

I want him. And he wants me. Why is he trying to pretend he doesn’t?

He reaches for me, gripping my hips with bruising force, pulling me toward him.

“Kiss me, dammit,” I whisper, wanting, wanting, wanting.

He groans, closing his eyes. His chest rises and falls harshly. His fingers flex against my hips. “Fuck it,” he says under his breath, then he’s dragging me to him and pressing his lips to mine.

It’s slower this time. He works a hand under my shirt, fingers delicately dancing up my sides, thumb brushing over my nipple. My body bucks, my cock throbs. I can’t even be embarrassed. He breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged. “Mine,” he whispers against my lips.

I let my head fall against the wall, completely overwhelmed and wrung out. “Yes. Yours.”

He groans, pressing his forehead to mine.

“This has bad idea written all over it, Eli.” My stomach sinks.

“But I can’t stop. I can’t fight it. I can’t.

I just can’t. And worse? I don’t even fucking want to.

” He seals his lips over mine again, kissing me before pulling back with another groan.

“Knew it would be like this,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

“Knew it would never be enough if I allowed myself to cross the line.”

My stomach swoops as he bites my bottom lip and brushes his fingers over my skin. “Are you sure this is what you want? ”

“Yes,” I whisper, my heart in my throat. “So sure. Please stop pulling away from me. It hurts. I don’t want to beg, Nic. Please don’t make me beg.”

My eyes burn, so I squeeze them closed. “In my bed, little doll. Now. Go.”

I’m moving before he even finishes his sentence. I’m nervous, but excited and terrified and so fucking relieved.

Nic follows closely behind me, and when I step into the room, all my nerves make themselves known. I stop dead-center of the room.