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Chapter no 2

Not in Love

VERY WILLING TO LET HER

CONTINUE

ELI

THE PREVIOUS NIGHT

She looked even more beautiful than in her picture.

And sheโ€™d looked pretty fucking stunning in that, too, standing in front of a painfully familiar UT Austin sign. Not a selfieโ€”a regular

old-school photo, cropped to cut out her companion. All that was left was a slender, dark-skinned arm slung lazily around a shoulder. And, of course,ย her. Smiling, but only faintly. There, but remote.

Beautiful.

Not that it mattered much. Eli had hooked up with enough people to know that a personโ€™s looks had a little less impact on the quality of casual sex than what that person was looking for. Still, when he arrived at the hotel lobby and spotted her at the bar, sitting straight on the tall stool, he stopped in his tracks. Hesitated, even though his meeting with Hark and the others had run behind, and dropping home to check on Tiny had put him a few minutes late.

She was drinking Sanpellegrinoโ€”a relief, since given their plans for the night, anything else would have given him pause. Her jeans and sweater

were simple, and her posture was a thing of beauty. Relaxed, yet regal. Spine unbent, but not on edge. She didnโ€™t look nervous, and had the easy air of someone who did this often enough to know exactly what to expect.

Eli remembered her pertinent questions and straight-to-the-point answers. Sheโ€™d messaged him the day before, and when heโ€™d asked,ย Where would you like to meet?ย her response had been,

Not my apartment.

My place doesnโ€™t work either. I can book a hotel and cover the cost.

Iโ€™m okay with splitting.

No need.

Works for me, then. FYI, Iโ€™ll share my location with a friend who has my login info to the app.

Please do. Would you like my phone number?

We can keep messaging here.

Sounds good. Whatever made her feel safest. The dating app game could be dangerous. Then again, the app they were using wasnโ€™t for dating, not by any correct meaning of the word.

Eli glanced at the woman one last time, and something resembling the anticipation he used to be capable of rose inside him.ย Good, he told himself.ย This is going to be good. He started walking again but stopped a few feet away.

When another man approached.

Some poor asshole hitting on her, Eli originally figured, but it quickly became apparent that she already knew him. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in a one-two punch. Her spine locked. She shifted back, seeking more distance.

An ex of some kind, Eli thought as the man spoke urgently. A hushed conversation began, and while the elevator music was too loud for Eli to pick up the words, the tension in her shoulder blades wasnโ€™t a good sign. She shook her head, then ran a hand through her dark, glossy curls, and when they swept to the side, he caught the line of her nape: stiff. Stiffer as the man started talking faster. Inching closer. Gesticulating harder.

Then his hand closed around her upper arm, and Eli intervened.

He was at the bar in seconds, but the woman was already trying to pry herself free. He stopped behind her stool and ordered, โ€œLet her go.โ€

The man glanced up, glassy-eyed. Drunk, maybe. โ€œThis is none of your business, bro.โ€

Eli stepped closer, bicep brushing against the womanโ€™s back. โ€œLet. Her.

Go.โ€

The man looked,ย reallyย looked. Had a brief moment of common sense, in which he estimated, correctly, that he had no chance against Eli. Reluctantly, slowly, he unhanded the woman and raised his arms in a peacekeeping gesture, knocking over her glass in the process. โ€œThereโ€™s a misunderstandingโ€”โ€

โ€œIs there?โ€ He glanced at the woman, who was rescuing her phone from a puddle of Sanpellegrino. Her silence was answer enough. โ€œNope. Get out,โ€ he ordered, at once amiable and menacing. Eliโ€™s entire professional life relied on his ability to find something that would motivate people to successfully do their jobs, and in his expert opinion, this shithead needed to be scared a little.

It worked: shithead glared, ground his jaw, glanced around as though searching for witnesses to join him in denouncing the injustice he was being subjected to. When no one stepped forward, he scuttled angrily toward the entrance of the hotel, and Eli turned toward the woman.

Electricity jolted through him. Her eyes were large and liquid, a dark blue he wasnโ€™t sure heโ€™d encountered before. Eli stared into them and briefly lost track of his question.

Ah. Right. It was something very complex, something along the lines of โ€œAre you okay?โ€

Instead of replying, she asked, โ€œDo you often engage in vigilante bullshit to compensate for whatever your issues are?โ€ Her voice was tame, but her glare blazed. Eli noticed that her upper lip was slightly fuller than the lower. Both were dark pink. โ€œBecause maybe you could just buy an infantry tank.โ€

His eyebrow rose. โ€œAnd maybe you could choose better men to spend your time with.โ€

โ€œThatโ€™s for sure, since I came here to spend time withย you.โ€ Ah. Sheโ€™d recognized him, then. And she wasnโ€™t a fan.

Eli didnโ€™t blame her for thinking him a brash, hotheaded jerk, but the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable. She clearly didnโ€™t want

him around, andย thatย had him feeling a small tinge of disappointment. It swelled larger as he looked at her lips one last time, but he shrugged it off.

Too bad, but notย thatย bad. He gave her one last nod, turned around, and

โ€”

A hand closed around his wrist.

He looked at her over his shoulder.

โ€œIโ€™m sorry.โ€ She screwed her eyes shut tight. Then took a deep breath

and smiled the faintest smile heโ€™d ever seen, which sent a new, heated wave of interest vibrating through him.

Eli was no aesthete. He had no idea whether this woman was objectively,ย scientificallyย beautiful, or whether her face simply came together in a way that seemed to work perfectly for him. Either way, the result was the same.

A big fucking turn-on. โ€œEli, right?โ€ she asked.

He nodded. Fully turned to her.

โ€œIโ€™m sorry. I was still in fight-or-flight mode. Iโ€™m usually way less defensive about . . .โ€ She gestured vaguely. Her nails were red. Her hands graceful, but trembling. โ€œBeing helped. Thank you for what you did.โ€ Her hand dropped from his wrist to curl into her lap, and he followed every inch of that journey, mesmerized.

โ€œYou didnโ€™t mention your name,โ€ he said, instead ofย youโ€™re welcome. On the app, sheโ€™d just used one initial:ย R.

โ€œNo, I didnโ€™t.โ€ She didnโ€™t elaborate, and her uncompromising tone was a thrill all by itself.

Rachel? Rose. Rubyย turned to watch the entrance, where the man still loitered, giving them resentful glances. When her throat bobbed, Eli offered casually, โ€œI could go scare him off.โ€ His brawling days were overโ€”had been since high school, when his life had been hockey practices and detentions and lots of rage. Still, he knew how to deal with assholes.

โ€œItโ€™s okay.โ€ She shook her head. โ€œOr call the police.โ€

Another shake. Then, after a moment of reluctance, she added, โ€œBut maybe you could . . .โ€

โ€œIโ€™ll stay,โ€ he said, and her posture softened in relief. With the way the shithead was acting, Eli had planned to keep an eye on her anywayโ€”which was probably a whole other degree of creepy, but here he was. Making this random girl whose name he didnโ€™t even know his business. He leaned back

against the counter, arms crossed on his chest. A large group approached the bar and took a seat next to them, forcing him to shift a little closer to her.

R.

Rebecca.ย Rowan.

โ€œI know weโ€™re supposed to . . .โ€ She gestured vaguely upward, and a million things flashed in his brain at the flick of her index finger.

The pragmatic tone of her first message to him:ย Are you still in the Austin area? Interested in meeting up?

Theย only casualโ€”no relationships or repeat meetingsย in her bio.

Her answer to theย Kinks?ย question on the open survey.

The list of what she wasย notย willing to do. Of what sheย was.

At this point he doubted anything would happen between them tonight, but he was still going to mull over the latter. A lot.

โ€œI donโ€™t want to anymore,โ€ she continued, voice steady. He liked that she didnโ€™t sayย canโ€™t, butย donโ€™t want. The lack of apology in her tone. Her serious, quiet expression.

โ€œYou mean, you donโ€™t want to go upstairs and fuck a man you donโ€™t know minutes after a man youย doย know assaulted you?โ€ He gave her a look of mock surprise, and she nodded thoughtfully.

โ€œThatโ€™s a good recap. I bet itโ€™s too late to get a refund on the hotel room, so if you need to make plans with someone else for tonight, feel free.โ€

He felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. โ€œIโ€™ll survive,โ€ he said dryly.

โ€œAs you prefer,โ€ she told him, indifferent. She clearly couldnโ€™t care less whether he took his phone out and booty-called half the city or swore his undying loyalty to her, and Eli bit back a smile. Her head cocked. โ€œDo you do this a lot?โ€ she asked.

โ€œDo what? Fuck?โ€

โ€œSave damsels in distress.โ€ โ€œNo.โ€

โ€œBecause you donโ€™t encounter many, or because you leave them in distress?โ€ Her voice was soft, and on anyone elseโ€™s lips the words would have sounded like flirting. Not hers, though. โ€œEither way, Iโ€™m flattered,โ€ she added.

โ€œYou should be.โ€ He glanced at the man, who was still outside, glaring. โ€œDo you live alone?โ€

Her eyebrows rose, and he noticed a faint scar bisecting the right. His index finger tapped once against the counter, itching to trace it. โ€œAre you trying to find out if Iโ€™m single?โ€

โ€œIโ€™m trying to figure out what the chances are that the dipshit will be waiting for you where you live, who could help you if he is, or whether your pet could protect you.โ€

โ€œAh.โ€ She didnโ€™t look flustered to have misunderstood him. Fascinating. โ€œI do live alone. And he shouldnโ€™t know where.โ€

โ€œShouldnโ€™t?โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not sure how he tracked me here. I can only imagine that he found out where I lived, wasnโ€™t allowed inside by my doorman, and followed my Uber when it picked me up.โ€ Sheโ€™d been shaken until a minute earlier, but now she sounded disarmingly utilitarian.ย Just like in her texts, Eli thought. Sheโ€™d messaged him with no emojis. No LOL or LMAO. Correctly placed punctuation and proper capitalization. Heโ€™d guessed it was a localized quirk, but her demeanor seemed like the embodiment of her writing.

Serious. A little impenetrable. Complicated. And Eli had never been a fan of easy.

โ€œHow are you getting home?โ€ he asked.

โ€œUber. Or Lyft. Whateverโ€™s quicker.โ€ She picked up her phone, but when she tapped on it, it refused to light up. Eli remembered the spilled water. โ€œWell, this is a new development.โ€ She sighed. โ€œIโ€™ll hail a cab.โ€

No fucking way, he almost said, but stopped with his mouth half-open. This woman was not his friend, sister, colleague. She was someone with whom heโ€™d been planning to have a sexual relationship that would last part of the night, then never see again. He had no right to tell her what to do.

Though heย couldย try to convince her.

โ€œHeโ€™s still out there,โ€ Eli said evenly, pointing at the man with his chin. He paced outside the revolving door, skin glistening with sweat. โ€œWaiting for you to step out of the bar.โ€

โ€œRight.โ€ She scratched her long neck. Eli stared far longer than he should have. โ€œCould you walk outside with me?โ€

โ€œI will. But what if heย doesย know where you live, and waits for you there? What if he follows you?โ€ He watched her ponder the situation. โ€œDo you have a neighbor you trust? A friend? A brother?โ€

She laughed once, silently, in a wistful way that Eli didnโ€™t understand. โ€œNot quite.โ€

โ€œOkay.โ€ He nodded, experiencing the opposite of annoyance at the thought of what would have to happen. โ€œIโ€™ll drive you home, then.โ€

Her look was long and even. Eli wondered why her wide, limpid eyes felt like a punch to the stomach. โ€œYouโ€™re suggesting I get in the car of a man I do not know to avoid being harassed by a man I do know?โ€

He shrugged. โ€œPretty much.โ€

She bit her lower lip. Suddenly, Eli was more physically aware of another human being than he remembered being in a long,ย longย while. โ€œThank you, but Iโ€™ll have to pass. The potential for situational irony is a bit too high, even for me.โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t think this qualifies as situational irony.โ€ โ€œIt would if you turned out to be a serial killer.โ€

Smiling wasnโ€™t going to win him any points, but he couldnโ€™t help himself. โ€œYou were going to go upstairs to a hotel room booked under my name and spend hours alone with me.โ€

โ€œHours?โ€

The way he was feeling at the moment, more than that. โ€œHours,โ€ he repeated. She held his gaze for every letter. โ€œSeems late in the game to worry about whether Iโ€™ll murder you.โ€

โ€œA friend knew where Iโ€™d be and how to check on me,โ€ she countered. โ€œA second location is a whole different beast.โ€

โ€œIs it?โ€ He had no business being this pleased by her self-preservation. โ€œVincentโ€™s a dick. But for all I know, youโ€™re the Unabomber.โ€

Vincent. She knew the dickheadโ€™s nameโ€”and Eli still didnโ€™t knowย hers.

Fucking irritating. โ€œUnabomberโ€™s dead.โ€

โ€œThatโ€™s what the Unabomber would say to throw me off,โ€ she deadpanned, unknowable. He couldnโ€™t tell whether she was flirting, making fun of him, or dead serious.

It was exhilarating.

โ€œHe made bombs and solved math theorems. He didnโ€™t kidnap young women.โ€

โ€œYou know a lot about the Unabomber for someone who supposedly isnโ€™t him.โ€

Eli looked up at the ceiling to hide his amusement, exhaling slowly. Then he straightened. Took his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and the driverโ€™s license out of his wallet. Dropped it on the counter, right by her hand.

โ€œWhatโ€™s this?โ€

He leaned back against the counter without replying, and she nimbly picked it up. Her eyes shifted between him and the picture on the card, as though solving a Find the Difference puzzle. โ€œEli Killgore,โ€ she read. โ€œThis is not a reassuring name, Eli.โ€

He frowned. โ€œItโ€™s Scottish.โ€

โ€œIt sounds like the name of someone who trims girlsโ€™ pubes and sews them into dolls. You look younger than thirty-four. And are you reallyย thatย tall?โ€ He sighed heavily, and she returned his license, straight faced. โ€œSo weโ€™ve established that your last name is closely related to the term โ€˜blood splatter.โ€™ But I still donโ€™t know that this isnโ€™t a fake ID you made to lure women into your mothdecorated lair.โ€

โ€œI bet you think youโ€™re so funny.โ€

โ€œActually, Iย knowย Iโ€™m not. I was born without a sense of humor.โ€

He huffed out his amusement. She was fucking with him, had to be. And Eli was apparently very willing to let her continue, because he pushed his entire wallet toward her. โ€œKnock yourself out.โ€ He watched eagerly as her slim fingers opened it, wondering why her elegant movements seemed to be unlocking some kind of long-hidden fetish part of his brain. She brought it to her nose to smell the leather (an odd, inexplicably appealing move), pulled out a random credit card, then another.

โ€œEli Massmurderer,โ€ she said. โ€œNot my name.โ€

โ€œYou have a library card.โ€ She sounded bemused, and he clucked his tongue.

โ€œHere I am, trying to help you out in a difficult situation, and you repay me by being surprised that I can read.โ€

She smiled, something small and mysterious that shouldnโ€™t have sent a thrill up his spine. โ€œI thought youโ€™d be more of a Planet Fitness cardholder.โ€ โ€œNot at all condescending.โ€ He tried not to grin and failed. But it was okay, because she kept methodically rifling through his life via the wallet, stopping to peruse the more interesting pieces, once humming audibly. Eli felt it like a physical thing, a thrum through air and flesh. Like her slender

fingers were peeling out the layers of him, slowly, inexorably.

โ€œWell, you do have health insurance, which hopefully covers the necessary amount of murder-prevention therapy,โ€ she said dispassionately before folding the wallet and handing it back to him with a solemn nod. She

gave one last look at the doors, where Vincent was nervously smoking a cigarette. Still in wait.

โ€œThis is one consistent wallet. Despite the fact that your name is literally Carnagemonger.โ€

โ€œNot literally. Not figuratively, either.โ€

โ€œRegardless.โ€ Her lips curved in the shadow of a smile. Eli felt it in his marrow, wrapped around his balls. โ€œMr. Killgore, you may drive me home.โ€

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