Page 9 of A Hot Mess
After Eloise heads to bed, I sit on the sofa and turn on a movie, hoping she’ll come out to watch it with me. An hour later, I’m still sitting alone while some chick flick I’d never normally watch plays in the background.
When my phone rings with the Walking Dead theme, Dawson’s ringtone, I’m actually a little relieved to have someone to talk to. I had no idea how accustomed I’d become to the chaos of Beckett’s house. Damn. I’ll have to keep that little tidbit to myself. “What do you need, dickhead?”
“Well, hello to you, too.” I can picture him rolling his eyes dramatically. “I was calling to check on you.” Meaning his nosy ass wants to know what’s happening between me and Eloise.
“Who put you up to calling?” I put the phone on speaker and sit back.
Big fucking mistake. “When are you gonna make a move on Eloise?” His words echo around the room as I fumble to take it off speaker.
This asshole. “I’m not gonna fucking make a move on Eloise,” I hiss, hoping the goddamn walls are more soundproof than they appear. My dumbass brother just doesn’t get it. I lower my voice even more. “I’m going to make her my wife.” His sharp intake of breath confirms he heard me.
Dawson sighs, calling me on my situation. "Pussy-whipped after two days. Both you and Ian are giving us Hot brothers a bad name."
"Fuck off," I growl, the words dripping with irritation before I abruptly hang up on my nosy ass brother.
The truth of the words hits me right between my eyes. I'm not just planning to make a move on Eloise; I'm determined to make her my wife. I want her with an intensity that burns through every thought, every breath. This isn't a fleeting impulse. It's fucking everything. She is the one, the singular focal point of my universe, and while it defies all reason, it is the most profound truth I have ever known.
I turn off the television and head to my room. I come to a dead stop in the hallway when I find Eloise standing statue-still. Her stiff posture and drawn-up shoulders tell me she overheard at least part of my conversation. "Everything okay?" I ask, trying to gauge her mood.
She glances over at me with narrowed eyes before she blinks several times and pastes a fake ass smile on her face. “Great.” Without giving me a chance to respond, she retreats into her room. "I have a headache. I’m turning in early," she mutters, the door closing with a decisive, echoing click that slams shut any hope of further connection.
Fucking hell. There’s no way I’m letting this go on. Fuck it. I knock on her bedroom door. She opens it and glares at me. “Did you need something?”
“Yes.” I step in and stand close enough for her delicate scent to wrap around me. “I want to talk to you about why you’re suddenly pissed at me.”
"Why do you care? It’s not like you’re going to make a move on me," she challenges, her eyes narrowing as she recalls my words from the conversation with Dawson but only part of them. It seems like she missed the most important part. It's time to clear up this misunderstanding.
"I'm not making a move on you. I'm wooing you. I want forever with you." I reach up and wrap my hand around her soft cheek.
Eloise's eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks like a deer caught in headlights. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she processes my words. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft and uncertain. "Forever? Are you insane?"
"I know I’m fucking crazy. Crazy for you."
A myriad of emotions flit across her face, and I can see the struggle playing out behind her eyes. Then, slowly, a smile begins to form, and she takes a step forward. "You're right, it does seem crazy," she whispers, her smile growing. "But I think I might be just as crazy for you." And with that, she smiles up at me. "But we need to take things back a few steps. You know, maybe date a little before we start planning the wedding."
“We can do that.” He smiles and slowly bends down to kiss my lips.
