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twenty-two

Wyatt

I’ve showered, shaved, and dressed in a suit and tie. Henry tried to tell me I was going overboard by bringing two dozen roses, but when Elsy opens the door, I know it was all worth it.

A sleek, dark green dress hugs her every curve. Her hair is pulled back from her face, the blond curls fanning out over her shoulders, and her makeup makes her look like herself, only amped up to ten.

But it’s the look of appreciation in her eyes that takes my breath away.

“Elsy, you?—”

She shuts me up by grabbing me by the tie and yanking me closer. The flowers drop to the floor as I pull her into my arms mere seconds before her lips crash into mine.

It’s like a puzzle piece inside my soul is set into place. This. This is what I was missing. This is what I’ve needed.

Her lips rove over mine, taking control. Her tongue licks into my mouth, tasting me, tangling with my own.

A growl rumbles through me, and I crush her to me until we’re fused together and it’s impossible to tell where she ends and I begin.

She pulls back, gasping for breath, her chest heaving. She looks beautifully ravaged, her lipstick mussed. I lick my lips, desperate for one more taste of her.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts, as I duck down to retrieve the flowers.

“Don’t be sorry. What are you even sorry for?”

“I… mauled you.” Her cheeks flush a pretty pink. “I just attacked you.”

“I’m giving you free permission to attack me. Any time.” I thrust the flowers into her hand. “For you.”

“Wyatt…”

“You look gorgeous, Elsy.” My eyes rove over her body again. “I almost wish we weren’t going out tonight.”

Her eyes flash. “Excuse me?”

“Right now, I want to stay in and lick every fucking inch of your body.” I drink her in and shake my head. “We’ll just have to table that for later.”

“Yeah, later,” she echoes. Exhaling, she straightens her shoulders. “Let me put these in water.”

She gestures me into her apartment and I take in her space. I didn’t get a very good look the last time I was here. A painting of a single white daisy on a black canvas hangs on the wall above her couch, and another is mounted above the fireplace, this one a bright teal portrait of more flowers. A planter sits in the window, filled with herbs.

“So you like plants?” I ask, tucking my hands in my pockets.

She hums, arranging the flowers in a vase. “I like pretty things.”

“You’re a pretty thing.”

Elsy rolls her eyes. “I already agreed to go out with you. You don’t have to say things like that anymore.”

Crossing the room and setting my hands on her hips, I cage her in from behind.

“Babe,” I whisper in her ear. “You are a pretty thing.”

She shivers.

“Now let me take you out and prove to you that you are the most gorgeous person in every room.”

Turning in the circle of my arms, she winds hers around my neck. “You’re pretty confident for a guy on thin ice.”

“Good thing I skate for a living.” I tease a kiss across her lips. “Let’s go.”

After a moment to refresh her lipstick, we head out. She lets me hold her hand on the walk through her building, then when we’re in the car, she takes my hand and sets it on her thigh.

She’s initiating.

Maybe I have a chance with her after all.

The upscale steakhouse is a little sultry. The low lighting sets the mood, and when we’re ushered to our table in a quiet corner, Elsy’s feet tangle with mine.

“This is… nice.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound sincere.”

She shrugs. “You don’t have to work that hard to impress me. You have money. That doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Us being here has nothing to do with money,” I reassure her. “I brought you here because the food is supposed to be good. Yeah, I want to impress you. I’ve got a lot of making up to do. And if that starts with good food, good wine, and some good orgasms for you, I’ll consider that a job well done.”

Her cheeks pinken, but she lifts her chin and stares me down. “Awfully bold of you to presume I’m letting you in my pants again anytime soon.”

My stomach twists, but if you can’t be confident, fake it until it’s true.

“It doesn’t have to happen tonight. I’m not in a rush.”

That’s not a line. As much as I’d love for us to resolve this and put everything behind us, I know getting into her heart is more important than getting into her pants.

Although if she were down for both, I wouldn’t say no…

Elsy raises her eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“I figure I’ve still got a lot to make up for. Thirteen years of it, actually.”

Her brilliant blue eyes sparkle as she purses her lips. “We’ll see.”

I fucking love that she doesn’t let me off the hook. When we met, I epically screwed up; I recognize the gravity of what I said, and I’m ready to take ownership of that, to prove that’s not who I am.

The waiter takes our orders and our menus, and when I reach for her hand, I’m gratified when she lets me.

“I have a lot to make up for,” I tell her softly. “If it takes me the rest of my goddamn life, I’ll prove to you that I’m not that guy anymore.”

She frowns. “I want to believe you. Really, I do. I just?—”

“You’ve been hurt before,” I return. “By me.”

“And others.” Her eyes flick away before they meet mine. “I’m not… my exes…”

My stomach twists into a tangled knot as I swallow. “Did they hurt you? Physically?”

“Just words.” Her bitter smile tells me plenty, and I don’t like it one bit. “But their words did enough.”

“Fuck, Elsy. I—I’m so sorry. For me, for them. For all of us. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserved to be treated that way.”

“It’s fine.” Her hand twitches like it can flick the thoughts away.

But I reach out and lace our fingers together, cursing the table separating us. “It’s not fine. Nobody should have to deal with that. Nobody. And you—you just take it with a smile.”

“I’m not always smiling,” she says, deadpan.

I fix her with a look.

She breaks, letting out a small smile. “Okay, I smile a lot. So what? It’s a defense mechanism.”

“I just wish you didn’t have to.”

She blows out a breath. “Yeah. Me, too.”

The waiter delivers our wine, pouring hers full. I wait for him to leave before I lift my glass to hers.

“To new beginnings,” I toast, my eyes lingering on hers.

She clinks her wineglass against mine and then takes a sip.

I barely taste the merlot. It’s fine, it tastes expensive. It doesn’t really do anything for me. But this is part of the deal: wine and dine, fancy dress, nice suit. As much as I don’t particularly care for it, I know it’s what Elsy deserves. I’d give her the moon if I could.

If she lets me in, I’m sure there will be plenty of nights where we go to the pub, drink shitty beer, and eat nachos or burgers. There could be lunches at the deli or picnics at the park.

But that’s for the future. Right now, I have to pull out my A game.

She asks about my road games against Ottawa and Montreal, I ask about her performance the other night and how her lessons are going. She’s found a few more students, so while they keep her busy, the extra income is helpful.

I wish I knew people who were interested in learning the violin so I could help her find more students.

When our steaks arrive, we dig in, but I notice her hesitation. She doesn’t look nearly as happy as I’d have thought when I planned this evening.

“You know, we don’t have to do this,” she says.

I look up in surprise.

“The dinner, the wine, the flowers. All of it.” She waves her hand at the room. “I’d be happy with eating takeout on the couch.”

“I’m sure we’ll do that, too.” I take her hand. “But you deserve the best, and I don’t ever want you to think I’m not treating you the way you deserve. I’d do pretty much anything for you, Els.”

She frowns. “You don’t call me names any more. Elsabeth, Elizabeth, Eleanor… You stopped doing it.”

“You told me you didn’t like it,” I say simply.

“I’ve been saying it for years.”

“No, Elsy. You said to stop. I thought it was our thing.” Steadily, I meet her eyes. “As soon as you told me you didn’t like it, I stopped.”

“As easy as that?”

“Yeah. Just like that. You never have to be subjected to something you don’t consent to. It was my understanding we were both playing a game. I didn’t know you weren’t participating. As soon as I found out, I stopped.”

She’s quiet as she sits across from me, fidgeting with her napkin.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m just… processing,” she finally says. “You’re not who I thought you were.”

“And is that a bad thing? That I’m not that guy?”

Elsy presses her lips into a line. “I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out.”

Heart racing, I squeeze her hand. “Well, let me know when you decide. I’ll be waiting for you.”