Page 65 of Blue Gold

“Stop it,” I said, eyes locked with his, once I reminded myself that I couldn’t be swayed. “I do not want to hear.”

His brows drew inward as he pressed his lips together and nodded in defeat. “That’s understandable.”

No. Don’t agree with me so easily.

“I guess I just wanted to apologize. What I said to you back then—” He took a deep breath. “It was horrible, Elliot. Appalling, really. And I regret it deeply.”

I believed him.

I believed that he was sorry, as his eyes always told the truth, and now was no different. I could so clearly see he was sincere. Yet it didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, it only spiked my anger because why now? Why did he wait so long to come and apologize? More importantly, why apologize at all? Would it change anything? Did he change? Had he finally decided to be less of a coward? Did he come here tonight to try and get me back, or was he here just to clear his conscience? I didn’t have the time or the patience for empty words. A summer ago, I would have waited all the time in the world just for him to kiss me. But that time had passed, and both my empathy and patience were running low.

“I do not want to talk now,” I snarled, chin raised. Disappointment crossed his face, yet before he could completely retreat, I decided to provoke him one last time. “I am staying at the Roys, room 421. You can come. We talk then.”

His eyes snapped to mine, and I took joy in the clear fear they held. So I guessed he hadn’t changed at all, if the mere thought of being alone with me filled him with dread.

“I see you are still scared, like a cat.”

With that, I took my leave and went back to the party to get a drink. Or two. Maybe giving him my room number was too much, but hopefully, it did the trick and would keep him as far away from me as possible. Why? Because I wasn’t sure I had the strength to resist him if he were to look at me that way again. Like I was the solution to all of his problems in the world. The same as he was to mine.

22

ELLIOT

Before I could even catch my breath, Jacques’s sweaty body collapsed on top of mine, his weight crushing me while his cross necklace tickled the back of my nape.

“It’s hot,” I complained, my face half shoved in the old sheet he’d spread on the wooden floor of this attic. Our attic. The place we always met to make love.

“Get off,” I half laughed, half struggled to breathe.

“Nah… I’m too comfortable right now.” He pressed harder against me at the same time as he thrust his hips forward so his flaccid cock rubbed my sensitive entrance. “And I want you to fuck me next, anyway.”

I sighed. “Could we rest first?”

Jacques rolled off me and moved to lie on his side so we were facing each other.

“Are you tired of me already, mon chaton?” he asked, his green eyes studying me as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

My chest tightened with the warmth of his gaze and the love lurking in his sweet words, and unable to resist his teasing grin, I shook my head.

“I could never,” I admitted and enjoyed his smirk that grew into a full-on smile. “But… why do we keep hiding?”

The quickness with which his expression changed made me wish I could take back my words.

“You know why.”

Tucking my hand under my cheek, I averted my eyes down his body and focused on the golden cross that rested against his naked chest. “I do… but we could always move away⁠—”

He was up before I could finish my sentence.

“Jacques, please,” I said, voice rough, as he began collecting his clothes off the dirty floor.

He paused with his fist clenching his shirt and turned to face me. “Please what, Elliot?” He tightened his grip. “Huh? Please what?”

My throat dried out as I looked at him, scared out of my mind he’d run away from me.

“You know I can’t leave this place. My family is here, my whole life.”

“But in America⁠—”