“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.
“Chocolate, peanut butter for my wingman,” he said softly as he handed me one of the shakes.
I stood there smiling and staring at the cup like he’d just given me something so precious.
“So I only seem to have insomnia when my best friend isn’t sleeping beside me,” Eli hinted with a shameless grin.
“I have the pillows propped up just the way you hate them,” I offered, still speaking into the phone.
His blue eyes darkened, and voice dropped low. “That sounds perfect.”
“Did you want to come in?”
He simply nodded, and everything in me heated. But I knew what this meant for him, and I knew what he was doing. I knew Eli far too well for me not to know.
He was making up for last weekend, tomorrow was Sunday morning at my place, and this way he was assuring me that he would be here.
He was apologizing for tonight.
And he was letting me know I was still number one for him.
If only he knew I wanted to be number one for an entirely different reason. If only he knew that having him protect me from someone tonight had made my week. If only he knew that him showing up right now—like this—meant the world to me.
Stepping back, I waited until he was inside before ending the call, and closed and locked the door behind him. I followed him down the hall and into my bedroom before climbing onto my bed. Watching as he moved around my bedroom, I tried not to let him see how much I loved this. The simplest acts, but acts I wanted with him every night. Flipping off the light, turning on the TV to find a movie for us to watch, and pulling his shirt off before he slid into bed next to me.