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She trails off. But she doesn’t need to finish. And she’s not wrong. I just would rather not think about my parents not being here to celebrate my birthday. I already feel guilty that I haven’t thought about that in hours. Not since Eli showed up and made the night special.
“Anyway. It’s not like it matters,” I tell her. “Eli doesn’t like me. He’s just a really nice guy.”
And he’s moving back to Canada.
Unless I—or someone else, like maybe one of the women from the bar—marry him.
“Nice?” Shannon asks.
I double down. “Very nice.”
He is. Nice. Thoughtful. Fun. Funny. Hot. Sweet.
I’ve had a front row seat to so many of these qualities at the shelter. You can learn a lot about a person by the way they talk to a dog. But tonight, I’ve seen all these same qualities in another setting.
Eli paid for everything tonight. He made sure my friends felt included. He got protective when a drunk man stumbled into Jenny, knocking her glasses down her nose. Eli steppedin between them, pinning the man with a hard stare until he apologized.
It was Eli’s suggestion that we stop by Harvest Hollow’s one and only Walmart before bowling—Part of the Canadian birthday tradition, he said. And of course, he paid for the clothesandthe bowling and I bet he already picked up the tab for the sodas and copious amounts of French fries, which are somehow better at the bowling alley than any restaurant in town.
The entire night, Eli has buoyed the mood, keeping things fun and light. Though I usually hate being the center of attention almost as much as I hate birthdays, somehow Eli has made me feel special without making me feel as though I’ve been followed along by a giant spotlight. Almost like this man who barely knows me somehow knows me well enough to know what I need. Which is to enjoy my birthday without having all the unnecessary birthday attention.
So, yeah, my crush hatched, sprouted wings, and flew away hours ago. It’s an entirely new animal.
Which is why I desperately need to get my feet back on the ground. Preferably not in these bowling shoes.
I also need to stop using so many flying analogies.
With a smile and a little bit of muscle, I manage to extricate myself from Shannon’s mama-bird grip. “Really. It’s no big deal. He’s barely a friend. It’s just my birthday. Nothing more.”
As I push out of the bathroom door, the noise and flashing lights and smell of bowling alley and beer hitting me, Shannon stays put.
“You keep telling yourself that,” Shannon calls after me. The door swings shut on her voice, punctuating her words.
But I’ve already forgotten because Eli is leaning against the wall in the narrow hallway, grinning at me. My feet skid to a stop.
He couldn’t hear us … could he?
No—definitely not. There’s ’90s rock pumping through speakers overhead, plus the satisfyingthwackof pins being struck and a tangle of voices and laughter. Still, my pulse ratchets up as my heart does a little terrified shimmy in my chest.
Even dressed in a bright green muumuu covered in lemons, which is what Shannon and I picked out for Eli and Van to wear, the man is enough to make my breath catch. Or perhaps it’s because the loose house dress has slipped off one shoulder, revealing a swath of tawny golden skin. Toned. Rippling with muscles even as he just stands here, doing zero athletic activities.
As I watch, Eli tracks my gaze, which has caught on his bare shoulder. With a small smile that looks far too pleased, he slides the fabric of the lime green muumuu back up, covering the skin I was admiring.
I almost boo.
“You look like you’re about to protest.” Eli’s mouth curves in a wide smile—a pleased one.
Am Ithateasy to read? Apparently so.
“I was just looking for scars,” I say, scrambling for any kind of excuse for my rude staring.
“I’ve got plenty. Though the hallway of a bowling alley probably isn't the best place to show them off.”
“Probably not,” I agree, as though this is perfectly normal bowling alley conversation.
“Maybe later?” He arches a brow, and a thrill moves through me at what sounds like an invitation.
But an invitation to—what?Check out his scars?
