I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,204

me to blow him in the hospital. That was a fun fight, where I did actually help him a little, however I was not on board with hospital blow jobs. He threatened that if I didn’t, he’d find a nurse to give him a sponge bath.

No one in that hospital was touching his junk but me.

We enter the house, and he sits on the couch. “You okay?” he asks for the millionth time. I don’t need to even bother asking what he’s referring to.

Tomorrow, Eli will hold a press conference to announce his condition along with our relationship. His publicist pretty much demanded we take control of the situation. They took thousands of photos of me coming in and out of the hospital. The constant barrage of questions was out of control. Eli was livid and demanded Sharon get here and handle things.

“Stop asking me that. I’m fine.” For the most part. “Am I excited about this? No, but it’s what has to be done. Honestly, I’m glad we had time before people figured it out.”

Eli pulls me to his side and kisses the top of my head. “You’re going to be great. You don’t have to talk, just stand there and look pretty.”

He’s ridiculous. His publicist, Sharon, is a lunatic. I swear, she’s her own brand of energy. She talks a mile a minute, has a Bluetooth constantly attached to her ear, and can carry on at least four conversations at once. She scares me—a lot.

“Sharon said they’re going to hound me more if I refuse to speak. She practically demanded I answer questions.”

“Baby, they’re going to hound you no matter what. It’s part of their game, but the beginning will be the worst. After that, some asshole will do something stupid, and they’ll move on.”

I look at him and grin. “Basically, we should hope for a celebrity shit show?”

“Pretty much. Give them a real juicy story, and they’ll all flock to that.”

This world is a little odd. I’ve never understood the appeal of stalking celebrities. Nicole tried to explain it to me once, but it was as if she were trying to explain quantum physics to a rock. I just didn’t get it.

“Your life is bizarre,” I muse while enjoying his warmth.

“And yours isn’t?”

I sit up with my jaw open. “Umm, how is my life weird?”

He chuckles. “Let’s see, you chase after criminals. People with guns.”

“Yeah, bad people who need to be in jail.”

“Even worse!” Eli laughs as his voice raises. “You’re nuts.”

“Oh, I see, now you’re just an actor again?” I nudge him. Not so long ago, Eli was claiming he was practically a cop, I guess he forgets that.

Recognition dawns on his face, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m a man who is dying for some cake.” He winks.

Smooth.

I kiss his cheek and get to my feet. I don’t even know if the cake survived, but if I know Kristin, she wrapped it up and put it in the fridge for me.

I, on the other hand, would’ve just tossed it. I will never be the class mom or the wife who organizes some big event. It’s not my style.

“You know,” Eli yells from the living room. “I could skip the cake and go for a sponge bath.”

“I bet you could, but I’m good, thanks.” I laugh as I open the fridge.

Sure enough, the cake is wrapped in plastic wrap and aluminum foil, which is something I’m going to need to ask her about. Especially if it preserves cake for longer, that’s a good tip.

Cake is always a good thing.

“Killjoy! Did you find the cake?” he asks.

I walk out with the whole thing and two forks.

“It looks great. Is it edible?” he jokes.

I move around to the couch and sit next to him. “Ass. I’m not sure, but since it’s your birthday cake, you should totally have the first bite.”

He eyes the cake and then looks back at me. Then, he dips his finger in the icing and moves it to his mouth. His green eyes move back to mine before he smears it on my chest. I go to jump up, but he grabs my wrist, holding me down. “Stay there,” he instructs. “I want some extra sugar with my cake.”

His lips kiss a trail down to my neck, and then his tongue slides across my skin. Heat pools in my center at the feel of him on my skin. Eli takes his time, licking the frosting from my chest. I’ve missed his touch. My fingers