Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(32)

Glancing at Eli, I shrugged and looked back to my friend. “We’re just us,” I said at the same time Eli declared, “She’s mine.”

Kristen and Jason both smiled. “Yours. Got it. Very official then,” Kristen said with a wink.

Eli’s knees tightened against my hips, and I leaned back into his chest. Mine. He’d been calling me that all week, and I couldn’t get enough of it. Because we’d both been slammed with work, we’d only been able to see each other once this week—which wasn’t a lot for us even before all this began.

He’d let me know earlier that he was coming to my place after O’Malley’s tonight and wouldn’t be leaving until Monday morning. There’d been so much promise of what was to come, but instead of waiting in heated anticipation for tonight . . . I had been dreading it. I’d gone and pretty much ruined any chance of enjoying or experiencing those promises on Wednesday night with Kristen. I’d been dying to know if she was sharing my unpleasant experience, but was too afraid to ask because if she hadn’t, she would never let me live that night down.

I involuntarily crossed my legs together, and had to bite back a cry of unwelcome pain at the action. I sighed and wondered how I was ever going to get out of this weekend with Eli.

Kristen elbowed me and leaned in close. “So what did he think . . . ?” She raised an eyebrow and looked down, and I laughed awkwardly.

“I haven’t seen him until we showed up here, but I really don’t think he’ll have much of an opinion,” I grumbled lamely.

“Jason cared. I’m pretty sure Eli will too.”

My eyes widened. Even though I was experiencing the most awkward pain of my life, I loved knowing that after how skeptical Kristen had been, there had been a difference. “Better or worse?”

“Better.”

“Really?” I asked excitedly before remembering that it didn’t matter for Eli and me anyway. The reminder made me so uncomfortable I didn’t even want to tell Kristen that she owed me a hundred bucks.

“Oh yeah.”

Eli pulled me back and nuzzled against my neck. “What are you two whispering about?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kristen challenged. I so did not want him to know.

“Actua—”

I stumbled back into the bar stool when Eli’s voice and body suddenly disappeared from behind me, and I turned at the same time Kristen gasped.

“Brett!” I screamed when he punched Eli in the face. “Brett, stop!”

Eli was lying on the ground, and Brett had a hand gripping the back of his shirt, his other was still in a fist as he cocked back his arm to hit him again. Eli’s hands moved quickly, one gripping Brett’s forearm that was holding on to his shirt, the other to grab his fist that was aiming for Eli’s face again.

Jason had run to pull Brett off, but stopped when Eli shoved Brett away and to the side.

Scrambling to his feet, Eli shoved his shoulder into Brett’s stomach when he charged him again, sending them both into the wall we were sitting by.

“Stop!” I screamed, but Eli was only holding him there.

“I suggest you stop before I do something I regret,” Eli warned.

“Why?” Brett growled. “After all these years, why now? You had her for years. Years, you bastard!” He tried moving out of Eli’s hold, but Eli didn’t budge. “Then I find her and she’s finally living apart from you, and you have to come and decide that you want her now? You had your chance!”

“You got your hit in, but you won’t be getting another.” Eli said calmly, but his tone was dark and threatening. “I deserved that, I know, and I’m sorry for what I put both of you through.”

Brett’s chest heaved as his eyes narrowed on Eli.

“But understand this, she always has, and always will, belong to me.”

Two security guards walked up behind Eli and he looked over his shoulder when they spoke. “Break it up or take it outside.”

“It’s over,” Eli said calmly, and pushed off Brett to come stand in front of me.

Reaching behind his back with one arm, he brushed my stomach with his fingers—as if to make sure I was still there and not leaving. I gripped his fingers with both my hands, but kept my eyes on Brett as he walked toward the doors of the bar. Just before he went through them, he turned to look at me—the pain and sadness apparent on his face. My chest ached, but even through the pain I still had no doubt I’d made the right decision. Watching him walk away and leaving him last week was nothing compared to walking away from Eli.

It was like trying to compare a tidal wave to a ripple in a pond—it couldn’t be done.

“Are you okay?” Eli asked. His palm slid across my cheek to hold my face in his hand.

Moving my eyes from the doorway to Eli’s blue stare, I balked. “Me? Of course I’m okay, are— You’re bleeding!” I reached for his face to wipe away the blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, but he gripped my hands in his, stopping them.

“I’m fine. But, Paisley—”

“What even happened? You were there and then you weren’t. By the time I turned around you were on the floor, how many times did he hit you?”

Eli pressed his forehead to mine, and immediately his calm demeanor flooded my veins. “Once, only once. He pulled me off the bar stool and I hit the floor. But I’m not worried about me right now.”