When Eli has finished his meal, he puts his knife and fork together, aligning the ends of them, too. He fiddles with them until he’s happy with them, the focus on his face deep and thoughtful.
I wonder why he does that with everything. I’m tempted to ask but don’t want to pry.
“I meant to ask you something, before I book the retreat. Can you take us?”
“You still haven’t booked it?”
“No,” I sheepishly reply. “I was sort of hoping that you would cancel.”
He bites his bottom lip, thinking before he says, “I was sort of hoping that you would cancel.”
Laughter leaves my throat. “Touché.” Well played, Eli.
Snickering to himself, he starts, “Joking aside, it might be good for us to still go, to help us get to know each other better.”
And it might teach him a thing or two about loosening his grip on his life. It can’t be good for him being that uptight all the time.
“I’ll probably hate it all, you know that, right?” he asks.
“I’m counting on it.”
“Fucking minx,” he grumbles, then takes a sip of his drink. “Where is the retreat?”
“It’s east of Napa Valley. It’s about a two-hour drive.” I’m praying the traffic is kind to us and we get there sooner.
“I’ll drive us,” he confirms.
“That’s just as well as I don’t have a car.” I should have thought about that before I suggested it.
His mouth drops open in surprised dismay. “What do you mean you don’t have a car? How do you get around?”
“With my bike, trolleybus, BART, and cabs, or I walk.” However, I would really like a chauffeur to drive me everywhere in air-conditioned comfort, with a television. I think Ghost would like that.
“But what happens if you have an emergency?” That seems to freak him out for some reason.
“Then I call a cab.” I’ve never had an emergency, but that’s what I would do. “It’s not that complicated.”
“I don’t like relying on other people. It makes me feel…”
“Out of control.”
“Something like that.” His defenses go up, and he avoids eye contact.
I believe this is what he meant when he said his mind isn’t right: he struggles with controlling it, and managing things like keeping his desk neat and aligning objects is what keeps it in check.
Or maybe I’m wrong. Whatever it is, I’ll find out eventually because I want to help whatever’s bothering him to make him act that way.
It also makes me wonder if me being in his apartment makes him nervous. If he hasn’t been with anyone for a few years then this must be new territory for him and I think I’ll be the only woman he’s invited to his apartment since he broke up with Tia.
This is huge. A massive step for him.
Hell, now I really hope Ghost doesn’t puke up a furball on his luxurious sofa.
Eli messes with his silverware once more so, noticing his discomfort, I pivot the conversation. “Did anything scandalous happen at the wedding yesterday?”
His body goes loose, his shoulders dropping a few inches with relief. “Funny you should ask.” Eli’s voice is now lighter too. “One of my mom’s friends decided I was deliciously charming and tried to grab my ass; well, she did grab my ass.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, closing his eyes as if recalling the awkward encounter, then shudders. “It was bad.”
I choke on a laugh, “Deliciously charming? You?” I poke fun at him.