Page 35 of Tangled Hearts

“Don’t push your luck. I’ll give you twice as much attitude to make up for it.”

He laughs. “You go right ahead, doll. Won’t bother me a bit.”

“Did you just… Why did you call me doll?” What the fuck? His eyes widen. Did he not mean it? Why does that make me kind of sad? “You can,” I mumble, looking down at my plate.

“Can what?” he asks carefully.

“Call me doll. If you want. It doesn’t bother me. Unhinged nicknames are kind of our thing in this family.” He hums, so I force my gaze back to his. “Or not. Call me whatever. Just not Elijah.”

He grins, lopsided and boyish. “Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “Is it a bad nickname? You can call me Nicolas, but I can’t call you Elijah?”

“I mean, youcan,but it’s what my bio dad called me when he used to beat the shit out of me, so if it’s all the same, I’d rather you didn’t.”

The smile slides right off his face and my heart sinks. Goddammit. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “I just told you, Eli. Be as bratty as you want. But especially if I’m being an insensitive prick. I didn’t know.”

Of course he didn’t know. How could he? “I know. It’s not your fault. I’m still sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m serious about boba, though.”

I nod, picking up my plate. “Want me to take yours?”

“Sure.” Nic gives me his plate, and when I’m about to step away, he closes his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “I want you to get all dolled up first, yeah? The world is sorely lacking without sparkly shiny Eli.”

Sparkly shiny Eli? Is that how he sees me? “All dolled up? Any correlation to my new nickname?”

If I thought the question would throw him, I was mistaken. He just smirks at me. “Possibly. Please?”

“Ugh. Fine. Just so you don’t have another meltdown about it.”

He runs his thumb over the inside of my wrist, making my breath hitch in my chest before he releases me with a grin. “Okay. Do you wanna go get ready?”

I glance down at the plates in my hand. “I’m actually going to do the dishes first.”

Nic laughs, but it’s not funny to me at all. “It’s just a couple of plates.”

To him, it’s just a couple of plates. To me, it’s a reminder of my childhood. A childhood I actually alluded to last night when I was talking to him. I don’t expect him to know everything. How could I? But how does he not understand the correlation? “So, I actually really struggle with small messes like dishes. I know it maybe sounds ridiculous, but when you’re six years old and starving, and you can’t even make a bowl of stale cereal because there are no clean dishes, it’s not really super fun.”

The smile falls from his face, sadness flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not always the best at doing dishes until there’s a load of them. I’ll try to be better about that in the future.”

I can’t help but gape at him. “Are you serious?”

He frowns. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

Because I’ve been nothing but a little asshole to you? Because it’s not your job to tiptoe around my triggers? Because you’re ruining my perception of you, and I don’t want to like you, even though I can’t help butalreadylike you? Because despite my posturing, I actually really want you to likeme? “I guess I just figured you’d think I was being silly.”

He studies me for a second before standing. He’s close. So close. I drop my eyes, and they settle somewhere around his throat. “Eli?” His fingers touch the underside of my chin, and he tilts my head back so I’m forced to look up at him. His stare is intense, his eyes boring into mine. “There is nothingsillyabout trauma responses. If keeping you comfortable in your own space means I need to wash my plate when I’m done, then damn, that’s a pretty easy task, don’t you think?”

I swallow hard, but my words seem to be stuck. It doesn’t matter because Nic gently works the plates from my hands and takes a step back. “You go get ready. I’ll do the dishes.”

I nod and rush from the room. Holy shit, why is it so hard to get air into my lungs?

Chapter 13

Nic

Iwatch Eli until he disappears from my view, then I take the plates to the sink. Between the emotional admissions last night, him asking if he could rest his head on me, and then falling asleep with him on the couch—not on purpose—I woke up spiraling.