Chapter 5

Chapter Five

ELIJAH

"You're shittin' me."

I wished I was.

"Nope."

"Like, nothing at all?"

"Yep."

Julien tried to get me to run with him this morning, but I chose to sleep in. I had a crap night. Too much noise inside my head. As soon as he left, I texted Jessi, knowing she'd be up, getting ready for her morning shift at the coffee house.

Jessi's sleep-deprived face takes up the entire screen. Her impression of a gaping wide-mouth bass would be funny if what we were talking about had any humor in it. It doesn't.

She loops a strand of her newly dyed electric-blue hair behind her ear.

"Jesus, Elijah. That's horrible. Poor Elizabeth."

Shifting to sit up, I settle back into the pillows and wince when I accidentally whack my head on the headboard.

"You okay?"

I switch my phone to my other hand so I can soothe the soreness out.

"Yeah."

"Not that. About… you know ."

Would I be the biggest asshole on the planet if I was mostly okay about my boyfriend's-best friend-slash-first-love coming back? Short answer: yes. Liz almost died, for fuck's sake.

Instead of verbalizing, I nod. She squints narrowed eyes at me.

There's movement in the corner of the screen and then Pixie pops into view, holding a cup of coffee.

"Morning, sexy."

Jessi takes the coffee she offers as well as the kiss. "Morning."

"I was talking to Elijah." Pixie winks at me in the camera. "Sorry to bust the convo, but my girl only has twenty to haul ass."

Coffee sloshes over the lip of the mug as Jessi hands the phone to Pixie. "Shit! Got to go, babe. I'll call you tonight. Love you."

"Love you back," I say as she dashes out of view.

A pink tank top flies across the room and lands on the bed, followed shortly after by the sound of running water.

Teething her lip ring, Pixie turns her head in the direction Jessi disappeared. "I'd love to chat, but I've got a girlfriend in the shower who needs an orgasm to start her day right."

This girl has no filter.

"Don't let me stop you."

Her grin is full of mischief. "Won't stop until she screams my name. Twice. See ya later, handsome."

The screen goes black.

Opening my texts, my fingers fly across the digital qwerty keyboard as I type out a quick message to Dad. He's on eighteen-hour shift rotations this week. One day on. One day off. Life of a county sheriff.

Me: I hate to do this over text, but Elizabeth Fairchild is here. As in here at CU. We saw her yesterday. It's not good. I've got a lot to tell you. Which detective was working her case? Has he spoken to her? Have you heard anything at the station?

He'd tried to find out information on Liz. Threw out feelers to some people he knew at Fallen Brook PD and in other states. She's been a ghost the last eighteen months. I have an ominous feeling that shit is about to hit the fan when it comes to her sudden reappearance.

When Dad doesn't reply, I check the clock. Thirty minutes before sunrise. Enough time for me to make it up to our viewing spot if I run. Quicker if I drive. I choose to run. I blame Julien. In high school, you couldn't bribe me with chocolate donuts to get me to do anything faster than a slow jog. But now, morning runs with my guy, having that quiet, alone time with him every day, is one of my most favorite things.

Not caring which tee and shorts I grab off the pile in the chair, I quickly dress and lace up my cross trainers, sans socks. Tucking my phone into the side mesh zipper pocket for safekeeping, I grab my keys off the dresser, and head out—only to smack right into Jayson in the hallway.

"Sorry, man. Didn't see you."

He rolls the shoulder I slammed into and glances past me into the bedroom. "Where's Jules?"

"Where he always is at this hour."

Jayson looks about as well-rested as I do. By the drawn, forlorn look on his face, it's obvious he's not dealing well with the Liz situation, if we can call it a situation. More like a FUBAR.

Feeling compelled to ask, I inquire, "You doing okay?"

Versions of that question seem to be running rampant this morning, and I make a mental note to ban the use of okay for the rest of the day.

"No."

Should I push? Play therapist with a shoulder to vent on? Jayson tends to ‘leap before he looks' when he's upset. Not a good thing.

"My afternoon is free since Julien has practice. Want to get some time in at the pool?"

Pre-season training for Julien began the first of August. The weeks leading up to the beginning of classes are called "captain's practice." Because Julien is co-captain of the team this year, he's in charge of the morning sessions with his teammates. Weights and cardio. In the afternoon, they meet back up for field practice. That's not including the get-togethers, cook-outs, and other things they do to build rapport. Male bonding at its best.

Jayson scratches his head and yawns. "Yeah. That sounds good. Want breakfast?"

I trail behind him as he sleep-stumbles his way to the kitchen.

"I'll grab a trail bar. I'm going to try to catch up with J."

After his morning run, he comes back for a quick shower and food before leaving again to meet his team at the student athletic complex. If I don't catch him now, I won't see him until after lunch.

We find Ryder leaning against the counter island, completely focused on whatever he's doing on his phone. He doesn't even notice us until Jayson says, "Hey."

"Hey," Ryder distractedly replies.

Being nosy, Jay invades his space to see what he's doing.

"Are you texting Liz?"

Ryder twists around to block Jay's view. "Yeah. Just saying good morning."

Scowling, Jay snaps, "I thought you said we needed to give her space and not pressure her."

"Checking in to say hi is not pressuring her."

Not in the mood to listen to them argue because that's where this is heading, I snatch a water bottle from the fridge and scramble out of the condo. I'll eat something later.

A faint lightening of the sky subtly glows along the horizon, urging me to get going. I forego stretching to warm up my muscles and take off at a crisp jog.

"Good morning, Elijah!" Mrs. Landon calls from her tiny front porch, watering can in hand as she tends to her pots of zinnias.

She's a sweet elderly widow who lives two doors down. Her son only visits on the weekend, so I try to pop in to check on her a couple of times during the week. She loves to play Rummikub and got me hooked on the game.

Slowing my gait, I lift a hand hello. "Morning, Mrs. Landon."

"Running a little late?" She chuckles at her pun.

"Good one," I reply, jogging in place.

"I thought so." She smiles a toothy, dentured smile. "Going to make some Earl Grey and sit out back for a while. Today is going to be a beautiful day."

"Enjoy," I reply.

I wait for her to go inside before pounding feet to the pavement. Without Julien beside me to keep my mind occupied, it wanders to the big pronouncement he mic-dropped on me last night. Move in with me . It's a natural next step in our relationship, not to mention, we've been cohabitating for months now. So why did I freak out?

I think the timing of it is what threw me. It would have been different if he had asked me yesterday or the week before. But last night after we saw Liz? I couldn't trust that he was asking because it's what he really wants or because he's feeling guilty. If there is anything my man carries around his neck like a ball-and-chain, it's guilt.

One of the myriad of reasons I love Julien is because of his heart. He cares deeply. He's a fixer. The peacekeeper of the group. A guy with the biggest white-hat complex known to man. That kind of self-imposed responsibility can be a tremendous burden, crushing you until you suffocate. Julien was finally able to escape from under it. I got my boyfriend back. I don't want him asking me to move in to be a knee-jerk response to Liz suddenly returning.

When I pass the large magnolia tree at the corner, I take a right onto Mayfield and cut through the park. I meter out timed breaths in counts of two and three. Inhale for two beats, exhale for three. It's a diaphragmatic breathing trick Julien taught me that maximizes oxygen intake while steadying your heart rate, so you don't get winded.

Spotting the trail that leads to the overlook, I pick up the pace. Exertion strains my quads with the burn of lactic acid buildup. The wind smacks my face and exposed skin, helping to cool me down as I sprint up the hill. I haven't seen Julien on my way here. Fingers crossed that he sticks to his normal routine, and I'll find him sitting in our usual spot among the wildflowers and long grass, waiting for the sunrise.

My breaths are heavy and labored by the time I reach the crest of the hill. Like a scene from a Thomas Kinkade landscape, the college town and university campus sprawl out before me. I immediately spot Julien sitting with his knees bent and holding his phone out in front of him. The first peek of morning sunlight shimmers in the distance, illuminating his serene profile and bathing him in a dewy glow that makes him even more captivating than usual as he looks out at the panoramic view before him, lost in thought. I approach quietly, reluctant to disturb the tranquil, picturesque moment where man and nature patiently wait for a new day to begin.

Hoping I don't startle him, I sink down to the ground and fit him between my outstretched legs. Julien turns his head, a smile spreading across his face as he takes in my sweaty, disheveled appearance.

"Just in time."

He reposes back against my chest, not seeming to care about my current state of ickiness, and continues to pan the skyline with his phone.

"I was recording the sunrise for you."

I kiss the salt-dried perspiration on his neck, emotion clogging my throat. During our short-lived ‘Ross-and-Rachel' break last year—a dark time in our relationship that I don't like to think about—he would send me sunrises every morning.

SexyBoyfriend: Thinking of you. Missing you. Loving you always. Forever Yours.

When I opened the attachment, I recognized the location immediately. His special place on top of the hill. He had his camera pointed toward the sunrise. Birds chirped in the distance, welcoming the new day, and then I heard Julien.

"Wait for it."

My lips wobbled with a smile, then parted in amazement as the sun crested, big and beautiful. Its light refracted off the thin clouds stretching across the blue sky, turning them pink and yellow.

"I want to experience every sunrise with you," he said.

The phone turned, and his face came into view. He looked awful, like he'd been crying and hadn't slept. Seeing him like that sliced me open—a million stinging paper cuts that dripped out my heartache.

"I love you, Elijah Michael Barnes."

Once the sun pops up, Julien shuts off his phone and sets it to the side. He threads his fingers through mine and settles our joined hands across his stomach.

"This is a nice surprise. I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too. You may have to carry me back down. My legs feel like rubber bands."

Imagine those wacky inflatable tube things you see at car dealerships. I think I may have also pulled my right gastrocnemius racing to get here. Hopefully, a few laps in the pool later will help stretch and loosen the muscle.

Easing out of my arms, Julien swivels around. His soft cock presses into my pelvis when he straddles my thighs. Those pewter eyes I love to get lost in steadily hold my gaze.

"About last night?—"

"I'm sorry—" I cut in.

Julien covers my mouth with his hand. "Let me finish."

"Shutting up now," I mumble through his slitted fingers.

He pulls his hand away and tenderly cups my cheek. "Don't think for one second that my motives for wanting you to move in are influenced by anything other than my desire to spend the rest of my life with you."

Well, damn. Insides completely melted.

Instantly ensnared by the beauty of his declaration, I lean forward and kiss him.

Giving a voice to my fear, I admit, "I'm scared."

Since coming to CU, I found a strength inside myself that I never knew existed. A love for who I am. I know I can survive without him. I just don't want to. Forever love, soulmate love, is rare to find, so when you do, you fight like hell to keep it.

"What are you afraid of?"

Feeling that I need to put it out there, not as an ultimatum but to let him know where I stand, I reply, "I'm scared of losing you, but I'm more scared of losing myself again. I can't go through a repeat of last year."

Julien touches my chest with a slight brush of his fingers, drawing a heart over the area where the fragile yet resilient organ beats a love song for only him.

With a gentle press of his lips, he replies, "I will protect this. Love it just as fiercely as I love you. It's safe with me, Elijah."

The sincerity of his words hangs in the air, weaving invisible threads that stitch the tears that my worries created. I just hope those threads are strong enough to hold.