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Alec writes,Eli’s a good guy, but if you’re looking for someone great …Then he added a phone number. Presumably his.
Did Eli even read these? I’m not sure he would have included them all if so.
Then again, it’s Eli. He might have assumed his charm would outweigh anything negative his teammates said. (He would be right.) Or he knew I’d read these for what they are: his teammates lovingly giving him a hard time.
My throat gets a little tight when I read Van’s message:This guy would do anything for people he loves.Anything. Countyourself lucky if you fall into that category. And whatever you do, don’t hurt my boy.
Surprisingly tender, coming from the guy who hit on both Shannon and Jenny the other night, plus flirted with the snack bar attendant at the bowling alley, a random woman in the parking lot, and the group of older women in the lane next to us. Maybe some of that’s just for show? Or maybe Van is a ladies’ man who has some hidden depth.
Whatever the case, he’s a little misguided if he thinks I would ever be in a position to hurt Eli.Try the other way around, pal. Wasn’t my crush on Eli completely obvious to everyone around us the other night? I felt as transparent as rice paper.
If anyone’s going to get hurt in all this, it will be me. Hands down.
And yet, even knowing this, I am undeterred. If I expected to regret saying yes to this ridiculous marriage thing, I don’t. I’ve felt surprisingly calm and sure about the whole thing. Partly because of the way the ever-present tightness in my chest eases when I think about having financial help. But partly because being around Eli more won’t be a hardship.
Not until it ends.
I light that thought on fire, then read through the rest of the notes. Though they don’t share any actual details about Eli I didn’t already know from spending time with him, I do get a sense of the impact he has on people in his life.
Every hand-scrawled note shows how much the guyslikehim. It’s so clear that he’s the kind of man who is a beacon to those around him. Drawing people in. Making them feel warm and accepted.
Not that I need to be told this. But it hits different seeing it in these notes, all written in various shades from playful affection to genuine admiration.
The issue at hand isn’t whether I need a reason to trust Eli. It’s whether I can trust myself not to fall canyon-deep in love with him.
Because somehow, I don’t see Eli having the same struggle when it comes to me.
“Bailey!”
I’m not sure how I hear my name over the noise of the stadium. Maybe because it’s Eli’s voice. At this point, I’m like a sad little compass who can’t stop being magnetically attuned to him. I might as well start calling him North.
I scan the ice, where the guys are warming up. At a glance, they all look the same in their gray uniforms and helmets and gloves. I don’t get to look for long, because I’m trying to keep Maggie from being jostled in the teeming crowd of people.
“Watch the elbows, buddy,” she says, throwing her shoulder into a big man who seemed totally unaware of her presence.
He steps back, pulling his cup of beer closer to his chest and tipping his chin. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Guess Maggie doesn’t need me looking out for her after all.
Shannon grabs my elbow and shakes me with a little too much violence. “There he is!”
As though I could miss the man now skating toward us with a huge grin on his face. My heart transforms into that of a teen girl at a boy band concert. It’s a wonder I don’t pass out as he reaches the plexiglass in front of us.
“Aw, this is adorable,” Beth says with a sigh. “Young love.”
I almost choke. “It’s not?—”
Shannon pokes me in the ribs, eyes wide. Right. As far as everyone needs to know, it absolutelyislove.
Shannon and Jenny are the only ones I’ve told about this whole arrangement thing. I needed someone—okay,twosomeones—to know the real story. Jenny couldn’t come tonight, which makes Shannon my anchor. Eli said a few guys from the team know. He also muttered something about what sounded like a vow of … violence?
I wonder if they’re as on board with it as Shannon. She started calling us Bonnie and Clyde—I guess because of the illegal aspect of it—though we’re certainly not robbing any banks. Just the government?—and seems convinced we’re going to fall madly in love and stay married forever and have adorable babies.
Which … isn’t going to happen. Lovely idea, though. One I’m keeping locked up tight for about twenty-three hours and fifty-three minutes a day, allowing myself just seven minutes—an approximation since I’m not actually pulling out my stopwatch to time it—where I’m allowed to daydream about this possibility.
Then, with a show of monster self-control, I put the thought away, and pummel myself with a litany of words like arrangement, agreement, contract, fake, and—the one I hate most of all—temporary.
I mean, I’m assuming we aren’t doing this as some kind of lifelong not-real marriage thing. Another clutch of worry grips me tight at the reminder of all the things Eli and I still haven’t discussed. Between his busy schedule and my own, we just haven’t managed. It’s only been a few days, but considering the timeline, that’s maybe ten percent of the time we have left before getting married.
