I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,167

arms. I don’t waver, I move into his embrace, allowing him to hold me firm. “I’m not going to leave you.”

Being vulnerable is a scary thing. It’s hard to give anyone, let alone Eli, unfettered access to my biggest fear. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’ve learned to handle it. This, though? I have no idea how to handle. Having a taste of Eli’s affection is enough to make me an addict. The more time we spend together, the more I crave him.

“You’re leaving soon.”

It’s the elephant in the room. We can pretend all we want that Eli isn’t who he is, but there is a reality we need to face. He has to go back to New York in less than two weeks. Our time is fading before my eyes as well. I know it’s his job, I would never ask him to stay, but I’ll be without him. Three weeks ago, I could’ve said goodbye and walked away, but when my heart entangled with his, it complicated things. Why can’t I fall for a normal guy? Why do I pick the one man who literally lives every single one of my insecurities? Because I’m dumb, that’s why.

Eli’s arm tightens. “That part sucks, but it won’t be that long. We take breaks during filming, I can come here or you can come spend time in New York. I meant what I said, Heather, we’ll make this work.”

“I have work, too. And Steph.”

“I know, I’m not asking you to give up anything, just make room for me.”

When he says it like that, it seems so simple.

Chapter 17

Eli

“Nicole, Kristin, and Denise?” I ask, trying to get the names right. Heather’s best friends are her family, and I’d like not to look like a total douche in front of them.

“Danielle, or Danni for short. That’s whose house this is.” She corrects as she parks in front of a house in West Chase. It’s a modest two-story house on a cul-de-sac, complete with a picket fence and all.

I’m adaptable, but my life hasn’t ever been normal. I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking agreeing to this.

Heather watches me, and then I remember why—her. She wanted me here to meet her friends, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. “Are you okay?” she asks.

“It’s going to be great, baby. Do they know I’m coming?”

I should’ve asked this earlier.

“Umm, well, I kind of didn’t say anything.”

I’m not sure if this is because she didn’t think we’d make it to the weekend or because she didn’t want her friends to freak. Well, here goes nothing.

I take her small hand in mine and smile. “Let’s go surprise them.”

Her one friend, I remember. Nothing specific, but she was who came back stage and urged Heather to come with me, I make a mental note to thank her.

There are a few guys standing over by the front of the yard, pointing at something on the ground, and the smell of food cooking on a grill fills the air. I’m in suburbia and completely out of my element.

We exit the car and the two guys who were shooting the shit stop and look. “Heather,” guy number one calls her name.

“Hi, Peter.” She smiles and waves.

They both head over and Peter extends his hand. “Hi, I’m Peter Bergen.”

“Eli Walsh,” I say, shaking his hand.

I watch as recognition sinks in. “Right, of course.” He looks at the other guy. “Eli, this is Scott McGee.”

We shake, and Scott stares me down. What the fuck is wrong with him? “Nice to meet you both.” I try to keep my instant dislike to myself.

I wrap my arm around Heather, pulling her into my side. I don’t like these guys, well, the one at least.

“Same here. The girls are around back,” Peter says to her.

“Thanks.” She smiles, but it isn’t a real one. It seems I’m not the only one who doesn’t care for these dickheads.

“What’s their issue?” I ask once we’re out of earshot.

She laughs. “Nicole and I hate them. Scott is the worst, but Kristin just makes excuses for him. Peter isn’t that bad, he’s just a sheep and follows what the first idiot says.”

We make our way around the back of the house, and I take it all in. Kids run around in all directions, spraying each other with water guns. The women all have their backs to us, laughing and arranging the food table. It’s exactly like the parties my mom threw when Randy and I