My Paisley?
“Come on, let’s get back out there.”
He called me his Paisley!
Grabbing on to my wrist, he walked me out of the room and back to the living room where everyone was still going on with their night. Jason was glaring at Eli, and Kristen was giving me a look that screamed she wanted details of what had just gone down in my bedroom. After a small shake of my head, her expression fell. And the second Sean walked toward me, Eli put his arm around my waist and pulled me close to his side—and didn’t let me go for the rest of the party.
Not that I minded.
Hours after the party was over, and my apartment was back to looking like my apartment again, I changed into my pajamas and washed off the makeup Kristen had also somehow talked me into. Just as I was propping all my pillows up, my phone rang, and a stupid, cheesy smile pulled at my lips.
“No, I won’t call a cab for you if you went and got wasted somewhere, call one yourself. If her face is orange again, just say no. The right kind of flower can get you out of any situation your dumb mouth got you in. If it’s bumpy and red, you should probably go to a hospital and get that checked, and I’ll be there soon to say, ‘I told you so.’ ”
His deep laugh filled the phone, and my body responded from that sound alone. “Appreciate all that.”
“What’d you forget?”
“Remember after every formal and prom in high school, and then after almost every party in college, we’d get milkshakes and either go chill on the beach, or go back to one of our places and watch movies?”
I smiled as I sank onto my bed. “How could I forget, it was my reward for being your wingman.” And some of my favorite memories of growing up with Eli; because it meant that night he was with me—not someone else.
“Best wingman ever. Never making me go to a dance with anyone other than my best friend so girls wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Always being there if . . . well, just always being there.”
“What’s bringing up this trip down memory lane? It’s been, what, three years since we did that?”
“Yep . . . too long.”
My doorbell rang, and I stood quickly, my brow pinching together as I took quiet steps out of my bedroom.
“Um . . . there’s—”
“Are you gonna let me in?”
My heart took off, as did my feet, and I ran down my hall to the front door. Unlocking the deadbolt, I flung open the door to find Eli standing there—phone between his ear and shoulder, two shakes in hand, and wearing an old shirt and mesh nylon shorts.
“Chocolate, peanut butter for my wingman,” he said softly as he handed me one of the shakes.
I stood there smiling and staring at the cup like he’d just given me something so precious.
“So I only seem to have insomnia when my best friend isn’t sleeping beside me,” Eli hinted with a shameless grin.
“I have the pillows propped up just the way you hate them,” I offered, still speaking into the phone.
His blue eyes darkened, and voice dropped low. “That sounds perfect.”
“Did you want to come in?”
He simply nodded, and everything in me heated. But I knew what this meant for him, and I knew what he was doing. I knew Eli far too well for me not to know.
He was making up for last weekend, tomorrow was Sunday morning at my place, and this way he was assuring me that he would be here.
He was apologizing for tonight.
And he was letting me know I was still number one for him.
If only he knew I wanted to be number one for an entirely different reason. If only he knew that having him protect me from someone tonight had made my week. If only he knew that him showing up right now—like this—meant the world to me.
Stepping back, I waited until he was inside before ending the call, and closed and locked the door behind him. I followed him down the hall and into my bedroom before climbing onto my bed. Watching as he moved around my bedroom, I tried not to let him see how much I loved this. The simplest acts, but acts I wanted with him every night. Flipping off the light, turning on the TV to find a movie for us to watch, and pulling his shirt off before he slid into bed next to me.
Holding his arm out for me to curl under, he pulled me in close as he got settled up against the pillows.
“Switch.”
I handed him my cup and took his from him before taking a sip. “Chocolate, banana?” He made an affirmative noise, and once he stopped moving, I got comfortable against him and sighed. “Thanks, friend.”
“Anytime, wingman.”
August 5, 2013
Eli
JASON SWUNG INTO my office and slapped his hand on the door. “Lunch?”
“Uh . . . yeah. Just let me send this last thing . . . done. Where are we going?”
“Deli around the corner? I can’t be gone long, I’m slammed with everyone taking their vacations.”
“Sure, are the girls coming?” I asked distractedly as I loosened my tie and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt.
“Nah, you’ll just have to deal with looking at my beautiful face.”
I snorted and followed him down the stairs and out of the building.
“What’d you do the rest of the weekend?” he asked once we’d gotten our food and were sitting down.
I shrugged, buying myself some time as I tried to finish the bite I’d just taken. “Spent the night at Paisley’s after the party on Saturday, did our Sunday morning thing, went to the gym, then just chilled at my place the rest of the day. You?”
“Of course you did,” Jason mumbled.
“Of course I did what?”
“Spent the night with Paisley,” he answered with a challenging look. “You’re twenty-five, you don’t need to be having sleepovers with your best friend when there’s nothing else going on between you two. It’s weird.”
“Dude, you know I sleep better when Paisley is next to me.”
“It’s weird,” he repeated.
I shrugged. “It isn’t to us. She’s been sleeping next to me for years, and that’s how I prefer it. What’s weird is sleeping without her.
Jason rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I’m not getting into that with you today, but speaking of Paisley . . . thanks for being a twat block the other night, you dick.”
The change of subject caught me off guard for a second, but when I remembered the guy from Paisley’s party, I huffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“When was the last time she dated anyone . . . a year ago?”
Two. But I kept that to myself.
“And then Kristen and I try to set her up with someone, and you not only make her change, you won’t let her near Sean the rest of the night.”
“Okay, hold on.” I sat back in my chair and swallowed more food. “That guy was a creep. He was feeling up one girl and flirting with another at the same time when you went to get the girls.” Jason looked surprised, but I kept talking before he could. “Like I told Pay when I was making her put some goddamn clothes on—and you can let Kristen know she made her look like a hooker, by the way—I’d never try to stop Pay from dating someone as long as I thought he’d be good to her. And your pick definitely wouldn’t have been good to her. I was saving her from a douche who would’ve wanted her for all the wrong reasons, you’re welcome.”