The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(30)

“I didn’t want you to go. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Elliot—”

“I thought of you.”

I snap my mouth closed.

What did he just say?

“I thought of you while she sucked me off, Luce. I think you’ve fucked me, and I don’t know….” He runs his hand through his hair again, and I watch silently as his bicep bulges. “I guess I hadn’t shaken off what happened in the restaurant fully.”

Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Say something.” He settles again, the muscles around his shoulders relaxing. It’s as if all that was plaguing him is wiped from him with his admission.

“What if I have no idea how to respond?”

A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Have I embarrassed you? Are you turned on?”

His efforts to lighten the mood are welcomed, and I fan my face as I try to process. “You shouldn’t have lied to me. But I get it. It’s you.”

His face drops, and my heart instantly pangs with guilt.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I rush out. “I just meant—”

“You’re not wrong.” He shrugs, agreeing. “Can we start this FaceDate from scratch?”

I nod, my insides feeling a little rotten from what I insinuated. He was with someone last night; that’s not out of the ordinary. He definitely doesn’t need to feel like shit over it.

“You’re not what you think you are, Elliot.”

He turns his head to the side as if to say, “really?”

“You have your ways, but it doesn’t give people a right to label you. I shouldn’t have said that. It was wrong, and I’m sorry. You’re single, youngish—”

“Watch it,” he warns.

“You can do what you want, and you don’t have to tell me or explain yourself to anyone else.”

“I know, but it didn’t feel right lying to you.”

My brows pinch together as I process the entire conversation.

What is happening here?

This wasn’t what I was expecting tonight. I don’t know how I feel, but I don’t feel mad. Maybe sad. Knowing that Elliot was thinking about me whilst with another woman rocks me a little.

It’s unexpected.

“It’s because you’re a good man. But it’s okay, and I’m glad you told me. About the restaurant thing—”

“I shouldn’t have brought that up. I meant what I said. We should forget about it.”

Forget about it.

No matter how confusing this man is, he’s right. I’m two days away from starting my new job at Almendo, and I can’t be distracted.

There’s a reason nothing has happened between us before now, and I need to remember that.

We aren’t for each other.

We’re better as friends.

We want completely different things in life.

“I agree,” I say, not putting as much grit behind it as I should.

He watches me for a minute, and I soften. “What?”

“Nothing.” He grins, and I smile back.

It’s always this way. I can’t name a time he’s been off with me for more than five minutes. “Wanna get in bed and watch a movie with me?” I ask, knowing we need something to pull us back a little.

He tips his chin, tightening his eyes on me in curiosity. “What movie?”

“I’m thinking Cinderella, the 2015 version. I shouldn’t prefer it, but I do.”

“Absolutely not,” he sniggers.

“Ell!”

“We’ve watched it already. What about something else? The new SAS episode is up.”

I huff and roll my eyes playfully. “Fine. But only because I got to pick last time. Let me have five more in here, and I’ll call you back.”

“Alright.”

I sneak fifteen more minutes in the steamy water before I relent and climb out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I slip into my comfy pyjamas and then slide into bed.

I call Elliot back.

“Ready?” he asks, distracted and not looking at me fully. The room is now dark, and the TV lights up his face. I always appreciate these rare moments with him. It’s as if all the bullshit he fronts to the world slides off with his Oxfords and Armani suit, and what’s left is this unknown man who sits for hours watching Disney movies with me. He’s soft, caring and nothing like what everyone thinks he is.

I wish people could see it, but I also don’t want anyone else to get the Elliot I do.

“Yep, still devastated I have to watch your rubbish, though,” I tease, giving him a heavy dose of eye contact when he glances at the phone.

“Don’t do that.”

My bottom lip protrudes.

“Luce.”

“It’s fine.” I sigh, tilting my head as I fight a smile.

“Dammit! Fucking every time.”

My shoulders shake as I laugh silently. I search for Cinderella and sit back in triumph.

He flaps about with the TV, trying to act pissed off, but I know he loves it, really.

“Ell.”

“What?” He types in the movie, not looking at me.

“When will you admit you prefer my movies over yours?”