Page 53 of Until Tomorrow (Love Doesn’t Cure All: The Ashwood Duet #1)

Eva

My phone ringing was the last thing I needed as I tried to juggle a box of comfort food. By some miracle, I managed to wrestle it out of my purse without dropping a single thing. Though I did almost roll my heel.

“Hello?” I answered breathlessly.

“ Are you and Logan doing it? ” Katy asked with a laugh.

“What!” I exclaimed and almost dropped my box. Damn it. While I struggled to prop it up on my hip and not break an ankle in the process, I said, “Nope. Sadly I’m out of breath because walking up four flights of stairs in heels while carrying a box of groceries is a freaking workout.”

“ You should try doing it with a car seat and a diaper bag, ” she replied. “ Though I can’t remember the last time I wore heels. ”

“That sounds so unpleasant. How are you?”

“ Better question: how do you feel about watching mostly naked men dance? ” Well, that gave me pause.

“How many mostly naked men are we talking about? That piece of information matters,” I told her. “If it’s one, it’s absolutely not worth my time.”

“ How about two dozen? Two dozen unbelievably muscular men dripping in oil, dressed like firefighters, and swinging their hoses around just for our pleasure. ”

“ Whatever it is, the answer is yes, I’m in.” I didn’t need to be asked twice. I wanted that. I absolutely wanted that. “Can I touch it? Them! I mean them.”

Her laughter was loud on the other end. I adored Katy. Not only was she so ready to help me when I needed it, but she was also fun and easy to talk to.

“ I sure as hell hope with the VIP package that we get to touch something, ” Katy said. “ Loren bought me two VIP tickets for this Magic Mike style show. Girl, I’ll send you pictures. Just the pictures have me reaching for my vibrator. Men that delicious should not exist. ”

“Yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes,” I repeated with a little too much enthusiasm. Mostly naked men all oiled up, shaking their hips? Sounded like a fantastic way to spend an evening.

“ Perfect! I’ll text you all the information! ”

“Thank you!” I replied in a sing-song voice. And then I promptly dropped the phone on the hallway floor. “Damn it. I’ve got to go.”

I spent way too much time trying to pick it up before giving up and just kick-shuffling it down the hallway to Elliot’s door. Knocking was out of the question. That box made it too difficult, so I kicked the door. And kept kicking the door.

“You,” I began when Elliot answered the door, “tried to kiss my husband.”

“Fuck,” Elliot whispered, hanging his head as he let out a deep breath. He looked worse for wear—tired around the eyes, hair awry, and just overall exhausted. “It’s so early, and I’m so hungover, short stuff.”

“Long night?” I asked. Pushing the box against his stomach, I gently ushered him back into his apartment while still kicking my phone. I deserved a damn award for these antics. Thankfully, Elliot picked it up for me and tossed it on the couch.

“Yeah, I drank too fucking much.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and drew in another long breath. His shoulders squared off as he faced me. “I’m sorry.”

“For drinking too much? I think you’re the one paying the price for that, not me.”

“No,” he said. “For trying to kiss your husband.”

“Oh, please ,” I scoffed. Heading straight to his kitchen, I dropped the box on the floor. I planted my hands on my hips as I faced him. “I don’t care. Well, I don’t care anymore. Past Eva was pissed off and considered strangling you with your scrotum.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Elliot muttered.

“Oh, baby boy, I would’ve made it happen,” I assured him with a big smile.

“You’re kind of scary like that.”

“Good, but I’m not mad anymore.”

“Eva.” He let out a heavy breath, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sleep pants. “You have every right to be mad. I need you to know that I’d never do anything to jeopardize your marriage.”

“I know—”

“And I know drunkenly trying to kiss Logan doesn’t exactly prove my point—”

“You’re fine, Elliot,” I interrupted, but he shook his head.

“I’m not fine, Eva.” The quiet dejectedness in his voice broke my heart.

I knew this part was coming. I shoved the box aside and went straight to him, hugging him tight around the middle.

He groaned but wrapped his arms around my shoulders and rested his chin on my head.

Comfort hugging someone over a foot taller than you was hard as hell.

“It was easy to love him when you knew you never had a chance, wasn’t it?” I said softly, and Elliot froze. Before he could say anything, I plowed on ahead. “I know, Elliot.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

” He pulled away as he shook his head. I let him put distance between us, and I recognized his need for space.

Not that I blamed him. Somewhere in the middle of all our life chaos, I’d missed it, but it was clear as day that Elliot had been in love with Logan for a long time.

“Elliot—”

“Eva, that’s not—”

“ Elliot !” I exclaimed over him. “I know! I know, Elliot. I know . I’d be an idiot not to see it. I’ve been the idiot who hasn’t seen it.”

“Does Logan know?” Elliot asked in barely a whisper. The anguish on his face was heartbreaking.

“No. My sweet but sometimes oblivious husband hasn’t figured it out.”

“Please, don’t tell him, Eva. I can’t handle…

I can’t…” He choked up. His hands fell to his hips as he stared down at his feet, and I gave him another minute.

He cleared his throat, nodding. The resolve on his face when he finally looked at me tugged on my heart.

My poor Elliot. “There’s no reason for Lo gan to know.

It wouldn’t change anything, and he has someone. I’m fine, Eva. Really.”

“I’ll see you when I see you,” I said, quoting his last text to Logan. “Most days, you two can’t go a few hours without talking to each other, and you see each other every couple of days.”

“He’s pulled away recently.”

“I know, but now you are.”

“I just need a few days to get my head together, Eva,” Elliot told me. “I just need to process and let go and… yeah. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Okay, well…” I bent down to rummage through the box I’d brought, pulling out a bag of flaming hot Cheetos and peach rings. “You and me, we’re going to mope and talk about whatever you want.”

“You hate both those things,” he pointed out.

“I do. And that’s why,” I reached back into the box to grab a bag of Fruit Loops, “I have my own snack.”

“You don’t have to do this, Eva.” He gave me a small smile, his gratitude clear on his face. “This has to be weird for you.”

“Nope,” I cut him off before he could continue. I kicked off my heels and headed straight to the couch. Patting my thigh, I said, “Come on. Just like we used to.”

“There’s no way in hell we’ll both fit on that couch together.

” Couch was an understatement. It was more of a loveseat than anything else.

Still, Elliot laid down next to me, his head resting in my lap and his legs dangling off the side.

When he was settled, I put his snacks on his bare stomach. “Thank you.”

“Always,” I replied. Instead of snacking, I ran my fingers through his hair as he liked.

The tiny moan he let out was involuntary.

Elliot had always loved having his hair played with.

Bad snacks, gossip, and running my fingers through his hair was the best combination to pick up his mood—though I didn’t think it’d help much in this situation.

There were a lot of feelings to unravel between the two of them, and neither seemed ready to cross that bridge.

“Distract me?” Elliot asked. He popped a peach ring in his mouth while staring expectantly at me. “Tell me about you. What’s new with you and this whole poly and life thing you’re going through?”

“I made a friend, and I’m fully aware of the fact that I sound like a kid when I say that,” I said. “Katy is incredible. She helped me put together the binder I presented to Logan about polyamory.”

“ Of course, you made a binder.” He chuckled. “I want to see the binder.”

“I even have a printed vocabulary list,” I bragged. I was damn proud of that binder. “I’m going out with her this week. We’re going to one of those Magic Mike shows—firefighter-themed.”

“Oh, sure, you’ll let them show you their hoses,” he commented. “Send me pictures. I need to make sure their uniforms are on right.”

“I’m sure that’s the only reason why,” I replied, laughing. He made an enthusiastic sound of agreement. “I’m trying to come up with ways to do things with art.”

“How’s that coming along so far?”

“I’m failing miserably.”

“You mean succeeding at figuring out what doesn’t work.”

“Sure,” I scoffed. “We can think about it that way.”

“You’ll get there,” Elliot said around a handful of Cheetos. “You’re talented, short stuff. You’ll figure out how you want to use that talent at some point.”

“I’m supposed to be here comforting you, you know,” I muttered.

“Keep playing with my hair and tell me about this guy you’re dating,” he ordered. Like I’d stop.

“He has pearls in his dick,” I told him because that was the most unique thing about Rhett that I could come up with. Elliot dropped the bag of Cheetos. They rolled to the floor, spilling everywhere.

“Fuck! Wait! Short stuff said what?” He bolted upright. “Shit, that’s a mess—repeat that fucking sentence right now, woman.”

“He has pearls in his dick.”

“How the… what the… huh?” That dumbfounded expression on his face made me laugh. “ What the what ? Like… I mean, is it like… he wants you to put pearls—are we talking freshwater pearls? And where are you putting the pearls?”

“No!” I exclaimed, laughing harder. “No, I’m not putting anything anywhere! He had them surgically implanted in his dick.”

“He what ?” His voice rose a whole notch, and I lost any hope I had of talking. “Short stuff! What the fuck? He did what to his dick?”

I tried to answer, but words were impossible as I folded over the arm of the couch in a fit of laughter that had me wheezing.

“I know I told you to go kinky, but shit .” Elliot whistled, and I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or uncomfortable. “Either draw me a fucking diagram right now, short stuff, or find me an online pictur e.”

“Oh, my God!” I gasped. “Don’t look at the online pictures! Don’t do it! It’s a horrible rabbit hole.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” Elliot said. Instead of listening to me, he grabbed his phone. “This is definitely a bad idea… oh… oh… oh, no! No! No, Eva, no! What is this? Why? Why? Why? ”

He tossed the phone onto the coffee table with a full-body cringe.

“His doesn’t look like that!” I rushed to tell him. “Hence the rabbit hole! The pictures out there are terrifying.”

“No shit, short stuff.” He flopped back down, settling on my lap. “I sure as fuck hope it at least feels good because otherwise, he did that to himself for no reason. Why? Why would anyone do that to their dick?”

“It’s like he has a magic dick,” I admitted.

“Oh, well, then that makes it all better,” Elliot retorted. “Good lord… pearls in his dick. Jesus fuck, Eva. You just went all out with this one, didn’t you?”

“Just wait until you find out I stalked him.”

“You what? ” That high-pitched disbelief in his voice had me laughing all over again until I couldn’t breathe.