The Best I Could (42 page)

The main building housed a living room. A
small, cozy couch sat against the wall covered in pillows. Gossamer
white curtains hung over the windows. The fairy lights from outside
were strewn across the ceiling. A dining table, large enough to sit
three, was off to the side, two bookshelves cattycornered opposite
it.

“There’s a bedroom across the rope bridge,”
Eli informed me. “Stairs off the deck lead to a bathroom on the
ground. The treehouse is close enough to the main house for the
extra amenities, but far enough to feel secluded.”

Barely listening, I moved to the deck and
gasped.

A creek ran past the second building, the
water rushing swiftly down a gently sloped hill. Above me, the
forest opened up to the sky. Clouds floated overhead, puffy and
full of sunshine. On the ground, green grass and foliage carpeted
the woods, a cleared path leading into a garden separating the
treehouse and its forest home from a house in the distance.

“This is unbelievable.”

“A house made for fairies,” Eli agreed. “Or
fallen angels.”

Turning, I found him leaning against the
doorway, his arms crossed, and a smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

He shrugged. “Let’s eat.”

Rather than taking the food to the table, he
placed the shopping bag on the deck, went for utensils, and
returned. Sitting, he spread the contents of the bag out in front
of him and motioned at me. “Not that I mind looking up your skirt,”
he said with a laugh.

I sat, my gaze locked on his face. When I’d
first met Eli, he reminded me of a wild animal, sleek and snarling.
Distant. Even then, he listened better than anyone I knew.

“You want the tabloid now or later?” he
asked, looking into the bag

“Later,” I answered, grinning. “There’s
plenty of time for my hang-ups when I get home.”

Pulling his leg up, he draped his arm over
it, the movement causing the neck of his shirt to fan open,
revealing more skin.

I swallowed, biting into the food he handed
me to drag out the moment, to keep me from babbling nonsensical
things. My mind worked a mile a minute, words pressing against my
lips, but I didn’t know how to say them. This … it wasn’t just the
treehouse or the way Eli listened, it was the way he stayed.

Without thinking, I popped the rubber band I
kept on my wrist.

“Does it help?” Eli asked, his gaze on my
fingers.

During one of our phone conversations, we’d
talked about my therapy session and the band Dr. Gomez gave me.

“It does. More than I thought it would. I’m
feeling a lot more grounded lately. I’m actually looking forward to
leaving, to going to school.”

He threw a grape in his mouth. “You know what
you’re going to study?”

“Environmental science.” I’d moved on to the
chocolate cake because that was the kind of girl I was.

Talking about the future was as hard as it
was exciting, and after a few bites, I put down the food. My body
felt numb, intense emotions sweeping through it, making my tongue
feel huge.

“Eli, I think we need to talk. About
things.”

He frowned. “You look serious. No
distractions or drama, remember?”

My heart pounded. “No … I mean yes, I get
that. I-I think we’re done with this. With what we’re pretending is
going on here.”

Don’t do this, Tansy,
my head begged.

You’re not your
parents,
my heart replied.

Eli’s brows furrowed, the frown on his face
turning to anger. Not at me—I saw that immediately—but at
himself.

“Wait, I’m not saying this right,” I
gasped.

He stood, and I stood with him, panic seizing
me. Over and over again, I popped the band.

I knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted
to leave, and I rushed past him, stopping inside the doorway, my
hands gripping each side of the open frame.

Eli froze when I blocked his path, his eyes
flashing.

“Wait,” I panted, taking a moment to tell my
anxious heart that what I was about to do wasn’t wrong. That it
wasn’t something to be afraid of.

“Move, Tansy.”

Eli was so used to people leaving, to women
giving up on him because they thought they needed something
better.

“No,” I answered firmly.
Grinding my teeth together, I planted my feet into the floor. “No.”
Lifting my head, my eyes locked on his. “You’d have to make me
move, Eli. I didn’t mean that
this
,” I indicated us, “was over. I
meant to say that I’m done pretending we’re friends. I think that …
I think we’re more than that.
I’d
like to be more than that. I’d like to be what you
said on the phone. Together.”

All of the anger I’d seen in Eli rushed out
of him. “Tansy—”

I popped the band. “I mean,
I know you’ll be done with your community service hours before
long, and you have Michigan in the fall …” The band, my wrist, and
sharp pain. “I’m not good most of the time. I fail. I’m not
perfect. I’m wrong more than I’m right, but I’m here, and I’m
willing to try. I don’t want to hurt you … I don’t want to
hurt
me
. I just
want—”

“Shut up, Tansy,” Eli hissed, his hand
gripping my wrist, stopping me from popping the band. Backing me
into the room, he stared down at me, saying nothing.

His head rose, his gaze going to the door
leading to the rope bridge. Still silent, he tugged my wrist,
leading me outside, across the light strewn walkway, to the second
structure.

A seat rested against a large window looking
out over the creek. A bed, the posts wrapped in the same gossamer
material that hung over the windows, made up most of the room, a
sky blue comforter and white pillows strewn over the surface. Soft
and inviting.

“You’re scared,” Eli whispered.

“Aren’t you?” I whispered back.

“No,” he answered, surprising me, and by the
way his eyes narrowed, himself.

His hand dropped, lifting the hem of my
dress, his fingers skimming my thigh. “Let’s talk about what you
said earlier.” He smoothed his fingers over my skin, grazing the
healing cuts there.

I gasped. Not because the cuts hurt—they
didn’t—but because my body responded so quickly, my legs growing
heavy.

Staring into my eyes, he
said, “
I’m
not good
most of the time.
I
fail.
I’m
not
perfect.
I’m
wrong
more than I’m right, but I’m here, and I’m willing to try. I don’t
want to hurt you.”

He repeated my words, and the way he said
them, slow and deliberate, making them his, made my heart
pound.

“I decide what I do with my heart, roof girl.
You don’t have to talk me into something I’ve already decided.”

“And what have you decided?” I asked.

Letting go of my dress, he took my hands, and
lifted them to his shirt. “Take it off,” he commanded.

My fingers fumbled with the buttons.

“Slow,” he murmured. “We’re not in any hurry.
Let me love you, Tansy.”

My gaze shot to his, my heart filling with an
emotion so strong, it strangled me. “I know why he did it now,” I
breathed.

“Who?”

“My dad.”

Understanding dawned on Eli’s face, and his
hands closed over mine on his chest. “No, Tansy. You’re nothing
like him,” he murmured, bending so that his lips rested just above
mine. “You wouldn’t give up on everyone just because you cared
about someone else.”

“Love,” I corrected. “Because I love someone
else.”

Fingers closing over mine, he helped me
unbutton his shirt. One button at a time, his skin teasing me with
each one freed until the navy shirt splayed open.

“Lay down,” he told me.

Pushing myself onto the bed, I fell back, my
legs dangling off the side.

Eli’s gaze raked over me, his eyes as potent
as his hands, the affection in them startling.

Leaning over me, he slid his fingers under my
skirt, pushing the fabric up until he reached my underwear.

“I want you,” he said.

Hooking his thumbs under the hem of my
panties, he worked them down my legs slowly, his gaze locked on my
face.

Heat infused my cheeks, passion and nerves
coloring them.

When he reached my feet, he tossed the
panties to the floor, his hands working themselves back up my legs,
teasing me, stroking my skin, and leaving goosebumps in his
wake.

When his fingers met my thighs, my back
arched, breath whooshing out of me. “Eli!”

Chuckling, he brought his knee up, resting it
on the bed, his hand cupping the curve of my hip.

There was something incredibly sexy about the
way he leaned over me, his shirt open, my dress bunched up around
my waist.

My fingers found his belt, working it through
the loops before tugging it open.

His gaze dropped to my hands, his breathing
deep.

Slowly, I teased the button of his jeans
loose, the zipper loud in the still room as I tugged it down.

Eli’s eyes fell closed.

My hand slipped into his boxer-briefs,
wrapping the length of him, before squeezing him gently, working
him.

Eli groaned, his grip on my hip
tightening.

It was a powerful moment for me, having him
in my hands, watching his brows furrow, abandoning himself to the
sensations.

“Shit, Tansy,” he gritted out, pulling
himself away long enough to yank his jeans off, his hands fumbling
for something in the pockets. A lighter and a wallet thudded to the
floor. Picking up the wallet, he flipped it open, pulled a condom
out, and threw the foil onto the bed next to my head.

When he returned to me, he wasn’t as gentle
as he was before, need feeding his actions. Seizing my dress, he
forced it over my head, his hands falling to the clasp between my
breasts. Undoing my bra, he threw it away from us, his lips closing
over my nipple, drawing it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the
tip.

Crying out, I slid my hands into his hair,
tugging at it.

He moved to the other breast, worshipping it,
his fingers finding the heat between my legs.

“Eli!” I screamed.

His head rose, his heat-filled gaze meeting
mine. “Come for me, Tansy.”

He worked my body like an instrument, his
body rocking against my side. “God, you should see your face right
now,” he breathed.

I screamed my release.

Tearing the condom packet open with his
teeth, Eli slid it on, pushed my legs up, and entered me, his hips
working, the muscles in his arms bunched where he held himself
up.

My hands grasped his face, forcing him to
look at me. “Your turn.”

He laughed, the sound cut short by a groan.
“God, Tansy.”

Skin slapped skin as he pounded into me, his
hand pushing my leg farther up, changing the angle.

Suddenly, he was deeper, his pelvis meeting
mine, and I cried out against the sudden pleasure that rocked
me.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Eli asked.

He pumped, harder and faster, and suddenly I
was coming again, my mouth open on a scream that didn’t quite make
it out of my throat.

A minute later, Eli’s face tightened, his
breath growing ragged, and I braced myself, the pleasure-waves
receding, my eyes on his face when he came.

He groaned his release, his lips capturing
mine, kissing me until I was breathless, and my body arched toward
his, keeping him with me.

“That,” he gasped, “wasn’t why I brought you
here.”

I smiled, my heart racing, his body still
joined with mine. “Liar.”

Slowly, he pulled out of me, quickly
discarding the condom before returning to pull my sated body
against his hard, muscled frame.

I caressed his face, my hand catching on the
stubble there, my fingers tracing his lips, my gaze not quite
meeting his.

“I love you,” I said, because it seemed the
right thing to say at the moment.

“I love you, too, roof girl.”

I hadn’t expected him to say it back, and I
froze, my eyes on his lips, willing him to say it again.

He stroked my back, his fingers sweeping the
curve of my buttocks before climbing up my spine again. “I really
didn’t bring you here for sex,” he repeated. “I brought you here
because this is a very Tansy-like place. The trees, the flowers,
the creek, and the garden beyond the deck. You are so much like
that garden. Wild and free when you’re not being held back.”

Dropping my head, I rested it against his
chest, listening to his heart as our bodies cooled.

“One day, you’ll have to take me out on the
sea,” I told him.

An AC clicked on in the room, creating a
steady hum, the window unit resting against the wall facing the
Buick.

Eli rose, lifted the comforter, and patted
the bed. I climbed under the sheets with him, curling into him.

He kissed the crown of my head.

“So, admit it,” he said suddenly, “either you
were having a G-spot orgasm right there at the end or there was
friction in the right place.”

I laughed. “I think that’s what I like the
most about you. No filter.”

“You’re not going to answer that, are
you?”

“And inflate your ego?” Tilting my head, I
looked up at him. “According to a science thing I was watching a
few years back, there is no G-spot.”

“And you believe it?”

“I’m leaving that one alone.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t know for sure, you’ll
keep trying to find it.” I winked at him.

He chuckled, and we grew silent, our eyes on
the trees.

Eli

Tansy was warm, her body small next to my
taller, broader frame. So petite, and yet I’d discovered that small
was a frame of mind. Small was what a person made it. Tansy looked
small, but the size of her heart lifted her up and carried her to
towering heights.