Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(6)

“Because you’re in next-to-nothing and sending a message that that douche was getting loud and clear. Put some pants on at least, Christ, Paisley.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked my hip and sent him a challenging glare. “Good! You know what? I’m glad he understood what this outfit was meant for.” At least somebody got it.

Eli pointed at me. “I can see your underwear, how could he not understand what it was meant for?”

I looked down and straightened my body as I pulled on the fabric. Like I’d said. TMZ should’ve been there.

“Sorry if you were excited about this guy, but it’s not about to happen, not after what I just saw.”

My moment of mortification stopped abruptly, and I slowly looked up at him. “I don’t like any of the women you pick up, but do you see me trying to stop you from taking them home? You can’t just stop me from dating these guys whenever you don’t like them, Eli! Just because you don’t like the fact that someone appreciated the way I look doesn’t give you the right to throw yourself into my life to stop me from trying to find someone.”

“No, Pay . . . never,” he crooned, and closed the distance between us. “But I won’t watch you find someone by dressing like . . . like this. And I sure as hell won’t stand back while you date someone like him. The second Jason went to find why you and Kristen were taking too long, that guy’s hand was resting on some chick’s ass, and his eyes were on another. He’s a prick, I’m not letting him near you.”

Wow. Really? Thanks, Jason. Biting down on my lip, I raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Eli laughed loudly. “Yeah, well, I never claimed to be a saint.”

“Clearly.”

Turning around, he opened up the drawer that held all my jeans, and pulled out my favorite pair. I knew what he was doing, and there was no point in arguing. He wouldn’t let me out of the room until he had his way—and I really hated being in this thing anyway.

“Take off those shoes,” he ordered, and held out his arm for me to steady myself on as I did. Once they were off, he bent down and held my jeans open.

“I can dress myself.”

“Paisley,” he warned.

Rolling my eyes, I placed my hands on the backs of his shoulders and stepped into my jeans. By the time he pulled them up over my hips, I was trying to hide a smile the size of Texas.

Swatting at his hands, I buttoned and zipped the jeans and messed with the shirt-dress so it was resting on my butt instead of over. Glancing in my mirror, I had to hand it to Eli; it looked so much better like this. Not that I would tell him.

“Now this is my Paisley.”

My breathing halted, and I looked at him in the reflection with a wide expression.

My Paisley?

“Come on, let’s get back out there.”

He called me his Paisley!

Grabbing on to my wrist, he walked me out of the room and back to the living room where everyone was still going on with their night. Jason was glaring at Eli, and Kristen was giving me a look that screamed she wanted details of what had just gone down in my bedroom. After a small shake of my head, her expression fell. And the second Sean walked toward me, Eli put his arm around my waist and pulled me close to his side—and didn’t let me go for the rest of the party.

Not that I minded.

Hours after the party was over, and my apartment was back to looking like my apartment again, I changed into my pajamas and washed off the makeup Kristen had also somehow talked me into. Just as I was propping all my pillows up, my phone rang, and a stupid, cheesy smile pulled at my lips.

“No, I won’t call a cab for you if you went and got wasted somewhere, call one yourself. If her face is orange again, just say no. The right kind of flower can get you out of any situation your dumb mouth got you in. If it’s bumpy and red, you should probably go to a hospital and get that checked, and I’ll be there soon to say, ‘I told you so.’ ”

His deep laugh filled the phone, and my body responded from that sound alone. “Appreciate all that.”

“What’d you forget?”

“Remember after every formal and prom in high school, and then after almost every party in college, we’d get milkshakes and either go chill on the beach, or go back to one of our places and watch movies?”

I smiled as I sank onto my bed. “How could I forget, it was my reward for being your wingman.” And some of my favorite memories of growing up with Eli; because it meant that night he was with me—not someone else.

“Best wingman ever. Never making me go to a dance with anyone other than my best friend so girls wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Always being there if . . . well, just always being there.”

“What’s bringing up this trip down memory lane? It’s been, what, three years since we did that?”

“Yep . . . too long.”

My doorbell rang, and I stood quickly, my brow pinching together as I took quiet steps out of my bedroom.

“Um . . . there’s—”

“Are you gonna let me in?”

My heart took off, as did my feet, and I ran down my hall to the front door. Unlocking the deadbolt, I flung open the door to find Eli standing there—phone between his ear and shoulder, two shakes in hand, and wearing an old shirt and mesh nylon shorts.