Page 15 of No One But Us

He blinks hard and the look disappears. Then he rises and goes inside without a word.

Chapter 9

JAMES

This is why I can’t drink around her. Because I relax and find myself telling her things I shouldn’t. And then she makes me relax further, and I find myself thinking things I shouldn’t. Like just now, as I watched her throwing her head back to laugh. In one breath I’m complaining about babysitting this girl, and in the next I’m thinking of all the things I’d like to do with her mouth. Just fucking outstanding.

I run on the beach, as hard as I can, trying to drive Elle from my head.

I return home to find the party dwindling. Max is the only one of my housemates who’s still awake, thank God.

He cocks a brow at me. “It’s two in the morning. Why the fuck did you go running?”

I shrug, collapsing into a chair. “Just needed to clear my head.”

“Quick question: this thing you’re trying to clear out of your head—is it blond, about 5’10”, legs for days?”

“Fuck off, Max.”

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. If you want her so much, why not just go for it?”

I look at him blankly. “I don’t know. Maybe because I have a girlfriend, or because I used to babysit her? Maybe because a year ago she was still in fucking high school?”

“You keep bringing up her age like she’s 12, when she’s only a few years younger than you. What’s really going on?”

“There’s a world of difference between 19 and 25.”

“You’re getting hung up on nothing.”

“I’m not dating a freaking college freshman. Especially not her. I told you my parents hate her family. My mom is fragile enough without bringing that into the mix.”

“I don’t get it. Elle is impossible to hate. What did her parents do to yours?”

I shrug and tell Max I have no idea, which isn’t entirely true. Because the summer my mom started hating the Graysons was also the summer my parents separated temporarily. And I can’t help but think those things are related.

I’ve been trying to avoid Elle, to not think the wrong kind of thoughts about her. Tonight, and this conversation, are a reminder: I need to try harder.

Chapter 10

ELLE

I enjoyed my internship—parts of it, anyway—but it never compelled me to leap from bed the way I do now, knowing that James sits just downstairs. The mental image of him, all lean muscle and intense stares, is better than a shot of caffeine.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, and his posture is relaxed into what I’ve already come to think of as “the James sprawl.” Too big and too long for normal-people furniture, his legs spread wide, his arms are everywhere. Max is talking smack, and James’ mouth is turned up—a smile about to morph into laughter. I remember that look. It affects me even more now than it did then.

And then he sees me and the laughter dies in his throat; the smile fades.

I tell them both good morning and watch as James’ face shifts from happiness to consternation in two seconds. What the hell happened last night? What did I do wrong?

“Good morning,” he says with a civil tone and wary eyes.

He stands to leave, making some excuse so poor he’d have been more convincing saying nothing at all, and is nearly out of the room when my phone rings. I pick it up, flinching at the unmistakable sound of my former boss’s voice.

“Hi, Edward.”

Max and James stare at me and make no attempt to pretend they’re not listening. I’d like to walk out to the deck, but that might imply I have something to hide.

“I think I’ve found you something,” Edward says. “Why don’t I come by your place tomorrow night and we’ll talk? I’ll bring dinner.”