The Force of Gravity(70)

“Okay, now I’m really glad I didn’t go,” I say. Over him or not, I don’t need to see that. “Well, thanks for letting me ditch. Sorry I wasn’t there.”

“I wasn’t talking about Tommy, though.”

“You weren’t? Who were you talking about?”

“Jace seemed really disappointed you weren’t there last night.”

Jace!

I smack my forehead, but keep my voice steady. “He did?” I try my best to sound surprised.

“Yeah. I think he likes you.”

My memory flashes to the kiss we shared in his office. “Please. He’s Derek’s older brother. And my boss now.”

“Says the girl who’s lying in her math teacher’s bed right now.”

We burst into laughter again. I want to ask her if any of them told Jace about Slate, but I don’t want her to suspect anything, so I leave it alone.

After Emily swears a blood oath to secrecy, I tell her the story from the beginning. From the tension that quickly built between Elijah and me, to the time Derek caught us in his Tahoe. She freaked out over that one, and I’m pretty sure Derek’s going to get an earful for keeping it from her. I continue on with the fateful study session where he kissed me for the first time and explain how we almost got caught by the custodian. I’ve never talked to anyone about him before, and it’s liberating. She’s the best audience a girl could ask for—she squeals at all the right places and refuses to let me skim over any details. But most importantly, she isn’t judging me.

My heart warms. I have my best friend back.

After we hang up, I glance at the time. We talked for almost two hours, but it felt more like ten minutes. I decide to hop in the shower and get ready. I linger in the hot water, letting the stream relax my strained muscles. As I go through the motions, my mind sweeps over everything I just told Emily about Elijah, and it all becomes clear to me. I remember thinking he was just an escape for me—an escape from my monotonous life. A life I wanted to shake up. But now I realize he was never an escape . . . he was everything I wanted all along. He’s everything I’d been searching for, but never knew existed. I loved Tommy, I did. But as a child. This is different . . . I love Elijah as a woman.

As I’m making the bed, I hear the doorbell ring and freeze into place. I sneak over to the window and peek through the shutters.

It’s Elijah.

I run to the door, opening it wide. “You scared me!”

He gives me a heartbreaking half-grin and steps inside. “Sorry, baby.” He cups my face, granting me a light kiss. “I didn’t realize I was without my key when I gave you the garage door opener this morning.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, my face still cradled in his hands.

He steps forward, backing me against the wall and leans down to kiss me. I grab his tie, pulling him closer. His lips are soft, but soon turn eager as he squats down to my level.

“I love coming home to you,” he breathes, swiftly lifting me up.

I squeal in surprise, and he carries me down the hall and into the bedroom. He sits me on the edge of the bed, loosening his tie as his lips wrestle with mine. I slip his tie over his head and begin unbuttoning his shirt. He leans into me, and I collapse back onto the mattress, sliding my hands into his designer shirt, using the access to explore his bare chest. Kissing the side of my jaw, he gently travels down my neckline. Conspicuous chills manifest on my skin as he pushes up my shirt, kissing my stomach. He makes his way past my belly button, and I tremble as he pulls back the waistband on my sweats, his lips teasing the hem of my underwear.

Then he stops.

His eyes burn into mine as he gazes up at me. Flashing a salacious grin, he pulls me into a sitting position.

“Stay with me tonight,” he says, kissing my lips.

It takes me a moment to find my voice.

“Okay,” I manage. “I have to work tomorrow. But not until three.”

He tilts his head. “Work?”

It dawns on me that I never told him. “Oh. Yeah. I got a job at Derek’s brother’s sports bar. It’s right next to ASU. Kind of perfect.”

“So you officially decided on ASU?”

“I did,” I say, smiling. “Why do I feel like we didn’t talk much yesterday?”

“Because we didn’t.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “But it sounds like we’ll have plenty of time to catch up now that I know you’re sticking around.”

“What, did you think I was going to move to Flagstaff near my dad?”

He shrugs, sitting next to me. “I wasn’t sure after this morning with your mom.”

“Oh, I’m moving out for sure. I’m going to be staying at Emily’s for the summer and work as many shifts as I can. Hopefully I can save enough to get my own place by August.” His expression is unreadable, and I hesitate. “Is that cool with you? She’s not going to say anything about us.”

“It’s fine. I just want you to be happy. I’d still like to give you a space in my closet . . . if you want.”

“I do want,” I say. I check the time and hop off the bed. “In fact, I want to get over to my house and grab some clothes right now, while my mom’s still at work.”

He stands up. “Do you need me to come with you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He takes my hand. “Are you fine?”

“I’m fine. I promise. I just need to get out of there.”

He follows me out to the garage and kisses me good-bye.

“Hurry back, so I can finish what I started,” he murmurs in my ear.

A shiver tickles down my side, and I breathe him in. “You better.”



THE HOUSE IS silent when I enter the foyer. There’s no evidence that a strange man was ever in my house, and I’m left wondering if last night wasn’t his first visit. A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down. I need to do this fast. I sprint up the stairs and pack two large duffle bags, making sure I have plenty of clothes for Emily’s and all the essentials for Elijah’s.

After packing up the rest of my toiletries, I haul my bags out to my car, cramming them into the back seat. Just as I’m climbing into the Chevelle, I remember my lavender roses that Elijah gave me. I rush back inside and swipe the large vase off the kitchen counter. I know this isn’t the last time I’ll be in this house, but as I take one last glance around, it feels bittersweet.

Heavy on the bitter, though.

It’s a challenge securing my roses into the passenger seat, but I somehow manage to buckle them in without crushing the petals too badly. When I climb into the driver’s side, I notice something white, deep in the center of the bouquet. I reach in and pull out the tiny square envelope and open it. Inside, is Elijah’s perfect handwriting:



MISS KALEY KENNEDY,

YOU ARE THE VARIABLE I NEED

TO SOLVE MY LIFE’S EQUATION.

I CAN’T LET YOU GO.

YOURS,

ELIJAH SLATE



I press the card to my chest and close my eyes. All at once, it hits me: Elijah is making a space for me in his closet—making a space for me in his life. After surviving emotional perdition these last two weeks, my first instinct is to protect myself . . . to protect my heart. And though it may take a while to completely trust him—or anyone, for that matter—I pray that one day I can give my heart to him without fear.

I ignore my disquiet and read the card again, unable to suppress a grin. I swear, he’s the only person I know who can make math sexy.



WHEN I ARRIVE back at Elijah’s, the garage door is already open, and I pull my car in. He’s at my side before I cut the engine, opening my door for me. I notice he’s wearing my favorite athletic pants, and they instantly bring back memories of the embarrassing parking lot debacle involving Derek in the back of his Tahoe, and I suppress a smile. I grab my roses, and he helps me out of my car.

“I didn’t want to leave these there,” I say, suddenly feeling bashful.

He smiles at me, then reaches into my backseat, pulling out my bags.

“Two bags, Kennedy? Hope I have enough room,” he teases.

“It’s mostly for Emily’s house,” I say, blushing. “I’ll only keep a few things here, I swear.”

He peers down at me, his biceps bulging as he holds a bag in each hand. “Bring as much as you want,” he says quietly, turning toward the door.

I follow him inside and set my roses on the kitchen island before trailing him into the bedroom. He sets my bags on the bed, then faces me.

“Make yourself at home.” He rubs the back of his neck, dropping his gaze. “I’ll take whatever you don’t want to keep here back out to your car when you’re finished . . . okay?” He glances at me before stepping aside.

“Okay,” I reply, moving toward my bags.

He leans on his dresser beside me and chews on his thumb nail.

Is it my imagination, or is he fidgeting? My nerves spring into action, insecurity prickling my insides. Suddenly, I feel like I’m intruding on his territory. Is he regretting offering me his closet?

“You don’t have to offer me this space,” I say, turning to him. “It’s cool. I’ll be living at Emily’s. She’s not exactly going to tell on me if I sleep over here.” Now I’m the one fidgeting.